#yes i bought the tools and have them on hand on site

[13thpythagoras]

part of what i have to ask as a rogue oncologist is

do you actually want to beat cancer?

having cancer gives patients a sense of community with others, like in the Komen spaces, it gives people a sense of purpose, it makes them feel like they're fighting a good fight. Go pink team right??

I have to realize that most people who have cancer wouldn't admit it, but they'd prefer to have cancer. They like the community, the sense of danger, the sense of purpose; taking that all away with an affordable easy option is such a buzz kill for some people, and at that point, I have to save my efforts for future generations, or at least people who are truly ready to be truly done with cancer, that's maybe 5-10% of cancer patients, 20% if we stretch it.

[flyingwargle]

flufftober day 8: chopping and piling wood

akaashi isn't the biggest fan of camping, but he does appreciate the outdoors. it's because of his indifference that lets bokuto bring him camping when their schedules allow it, and the weather isn't too hot. they camp alone most of the time, but whenever their schedules align, kuroo and kenma join in for double the fun.

the campground is quiet. akaashi and kenma set up the tent, bokuto and kuroo assembling the rest of their campsite. their site comes with a campfire pit, and judging by the wood still in the trunk, they're going to have a huge fire tonight.

"ugh. i'm tired already." kenma rocks back onto his heels after hammering the last peg into the ground. akaashi reaches over to unzip the front door so he can move their backpacks inside.

"i didn't think you'd come along." the last time they camped altogether was in high school, after bokuto got his license. kenma got an allergic reaction from a bug bite and swore to never camp again, unless they were staying in a cabin.

kenma sighs, straightening up. "i didn't want to, but kuro bought equipment for me and i don't want to go to waste." camping is surprisingly expensive, which is why akaashi considers himself lucky that he can borrow from someone else.

they crawl into the tent to spread the mats and sleeping bags, listening to their partners gossip about various volleyball players, complain about new tournament rules, and gush about recent dates. "did you know that they're competing to see who'll propose first?" kenma asks.

"my bet is on kou."

"same. i don't want to get married, so if kuro ever asks, i'm going to say no."

"i can hear you, kitten!" kuroo shouts. "must you hurt me like that?"

"what about me, keiji?" bokuto yells over him. "would you say yes if i propose?"

"yes," akaashi answers. "bold of you to assume that i won't propose first."

"no, keiji! you can't propose until i propose!"

"that's not how it works, idiot!" there's a loud slap, followed by bokuto's indignant yelp and footsteps scuffing against the ground. akaashi and kenma roll their eyes.

afterwards, they sit on lawn chairs and watch kuroo and bokuto move the wood from the trunk to the small space beside the pit. bokuto has an axe in hand, kuroo with a hatchet, mirrored smirks on their faces. normally, akaashi wouldn’t trust his partner with anything larger than a vacuum cleaner, but things are different when they’re outside. he doesn’t know how either of them learned to use either tool, but it’s better than him or kenma.

“i can make shavings,” akaashi offers, taking the pocketknife out from his jacket.

“thanks, keiji! we’ll get some sticks for you soon.” bokuto hefts the axe over his shoulder, saluting with his other hand. kuroo lays a tarp on the ground, the stump used for chopping, and then they start.

let it be known that akaashi’s gay awakening started when he watched bokuto soar through the air during his third year of junior high, blinded by his brilliance. it started as admiration, and as he caught glimpses of his bare chest while changing through high school, it turned into attraction, and then panic, and then acceptance.

which is why he can’t wrench his eyes away when bokuto places a log on top of the stump, takes aim, and raises the axe over his head to swing, arm muscles on full display under the early autumn afternoon. the log splits in half, and bokuto re-positions one half, moves the other aside to chop. he does it again, the satisfying crack echoing around them.

“you’re staring.”

akaashi glances at kenma, who has his knees up, tablet balanced on his knees. “i think i should be allowed to watch my boyfriend without judgment,” he replies. another crack fills the air, but not from the axe - this time, from the hatchet.

kuroo is chopping the smaller logs into sticks. his arm muscles ripple with every swing, eyes focused so he wouldn’t chop his fingers off. kenma watches, and it’s akaashi’s turn to call him out.

“we’re spoiled, aren’t we?” akaashi comments. kenma nods in agreement.

eventually, they’re put to work, with akaashi making shavings and kenma preparing curry for dinner. as daylight fades, they cradle their bowls and sit around the fire, flames licking the wood, embers spiraling upwards. bokuto shifts his chair closer to lean on akaashi, resting his head on his shoulder. “we need to get a two-man chair,” he mumbles. “how can we cuddle like this?”

“i brought a picnic blanket so we can sit on the ground,” akaashi offers.

“they took it.” he points to the other couple, chairs abandoned, kenma on kuroo’s lap on the blanket. “plus, a two-man chair would be so much cooler. who wants to sit on the ground?”

“not us, of course.”

“we can hear you,” kuroo calls out. bokuto sticks a tongue out, and in the fading light, akaashi sees kuroo flip him the bird.

night descends, occasional conversation stirring, but they mostly sit around the fire and watch the flames. akaashi reaches for bokuto’s hand, lithe fingers wrapped in his calloused grip. “thanks for bringing us out, kou,” akaashi murmurs.

“anything to spend the night with my favorite people in the world.” bokuto leans forward to kiss him.

“maybe we should invest in a two-man sleeping bag, too.”

“please don’t,” kenma calls out. “i won’t ever come if you do.”

“aw, kitten, maybe we should get a two-man sleeping bag,” kuroo says teasingly.

“i’d rather not. i put up with you kicking me in your sleep too much already.”

“kitten!”

their laughs join the embers in the air.

[siryouarebeingmocked]

Surprising nobody, NoodleKittyRambles blocked me and ACP after we injected some inconvenient reality into her(?) stupid post.

>Yeah young kids can’t legally own firearms, but all these cases came from guns they got from their PARENTS.

You assume.

The Columbine shooters literally convinced adults to buy them guns. The straw purchasers went to jail. There’s also times when kids just straight up stole the guns from their parents’ insufficient security.

Theoretically, they could also steal it from someone else, or get it on the street.

Also, you didn’t specify. The entire point of your original post was that any shooting that fit the description would be damning. 

If you were vague, that’s on you.

I looked up the most recent shooting when I queued the post, and nobody said anything about where the kid got the gun.

And that's information OP didn't even have in the story. That's literally her whole point. 

So claiming her point was actually about kids getting access to guns is...odd. And it wouldn’t rebut my point about negligence being illegal.

I’m not sure if she’s lying, stupid, or if she mentally retconned her own point.

>And don’t even get me started on all the cases of TEENAGERS getting their hands on firearms COMPLETELY LEGALLY to shoot up their own schools.

You mean "teenagers who are legal adults bought firearms, as they are legally entitled to"?

>Making murder illegal doesn’t stop people from murdering. But restricting access to tool specifically made to kill others is better than whatever we currently have.

Except most guns are never used to shoot another person. And most of the ones that do are illegally owned already. 

And many guns are made specifically for hunting, varmint control, and range purposes. 

And they can kill people just as well as guns “specifically made to kill others”.

You’re also equating “made for self-defense” with “made for murder”. (Drink a sip.) And trying to punish a hundred million innocent gun owners for a few thousand criminals.

You can’t pretend your idea is the ongoing shooting issue, but also “guns scary, make them go away!”.

>Did you know that there are 120 guns for every 100 Americans? 

Yes, and? How often are guns used to commit violent crimes, compared to the amount of guns there are? Last time I checked, it was south of 1 in 10,000 or so, IIRC.

Have you ever tried actually persuading someone that doesn’t already agree with you?

Unless, of course, you were saying this to appeal to your followers and look like you’re winning.

>Did you know that our rate of gun related homicide is 4 times higher than every other country? If you combined all the mass shootings in the world, they still would not be able to beat the amount of shootings that have happened in America.

Speaking as someone from a country with a higher murder rate than America, who personally knew at least three murder victims, you are wrong. There are loads of countries like mine. 

That’s they the “correct” line only compares America to other “developed” countries. And ignores the overall homicide rate, of course.

I don’t have the mass shooting stat to hand, but I’d bet that’s wrong too. *

This article says otherwise, but it also says the US only had about 101 mass shootings over 20 years.

Five shootings a year.

In a country with hundreds of millions of guns.

Doesn’t seem like much of a problem. 

Especially since we have no idea how many of those shootings were with illegal guns.

Besides Columbine, of course.

I also notice that you’ve stopped talking about school shootings. Or even your original argument. Almost like you’re just spouting whatever comes to mind that’ll score points.

> #tw gun#gun control#tw shooting#I’m not gonna respond to anyone else on this post#I don’t wanna have to deal with gun loving people on this site

“I’m making posts about gun control, but I don’t want to actually talk to the people I disagree with or address their criticisms.”

Class, notice how Kitty doesn’t actually refer to a single specific incident, or provide any actual evidence. 

*EDIT: Since I drafted this post, I did get the stat. The top for per capita mass shooting deaths was actually Norway. 

When I told the guy I was arguing with, he tried to pretend his point wasn’t (explicitly) “more gun ownership = more mass shootings”, but  “a lot of guns = a lot of mass shootings”. 

Then I pointed to Switzerland, which has only slightly less guns than Norway, and much less mass shootings. Or Germany and France, which have about 1/6th the ownership of America, but much less mass shooting deaths.

He still refused to throw in the towel. He suddenly started talking about the specific gun storage laws both countries had - even though he had only talked about the ownership rate earlier - and refused to explain how those laws were “preventing” mass shootings. 

And he didn’t discuss Norway or Switzerland at all.

EDIT 2: Since I queued this post, I checked the stats for my home country. We have strict gun control, and a much higher gun murder rate than Freedomland. So Noodles is blatantly wrong about that too.

[beefrobeefcal]

I can absolutely tell you about my soaps! I'm horribly accident prone, so mine are all of the melt and pour variety, so I have the personal rule that any scent made has to be of my own personal make.

So, all of the scents used in my soaps are blends that I made myself in small batches. Everything's inspired either by my own D&D characters, or pop culture in general. I have a pair of soaps inspired by the Game Grumps, one inspired by Elden Ring, and one inspired by Moon Knight, among others.

It's hard for me to pick a favorite, since I love all of them, but my top two favorites are one called The Huntress, and the Moon Knight one called Avatar of Khonshu. They're shaped like a star and moon respectively. Huntress is dark blue and features seaweed based biodegradable glitter, and is a smoky, rosy, sweet scent. Avatar of Khonshu is a solid gold color, and is incense-y and leathery, just yummy.

I also make lip balms that are coconut free, hand knit spa washcloths, crocheted dice bags, and bath salts for soaking. (The bath salts are Avatar: The Last Airbender inspired, and the scent is called Leaves From the Vine because I'm a demon like that. It features actual organic tea leaves and biodegradable seaweed based glitter.)

In addition to the soap thing, I also make jewelry with spent bullet casings (I get them from my partner's coworker when he goes to the shooting range), I knit, I crochet, I sew, and I even bake a little. I've got hobbies on hobbies, lmao. Don't get me started on the doll collecting.

What about you?

OKAY FIRST OF ALLLLLLLL - HELL TO THE YES ON SOAP. THEN ALSO MASSIVE SHOUTOUT TO BEING ACCIDENT PRONE.

I love crafty friendos! I checked out your Etsy Shop and everything is hella cute! [I will be placing an order btw!] I also love the themes you use! The colours and the names are just presh, and then the jewelry????? You're so darn talented - thank you for sharing!

[it's pulling the Canadian Etsy site bc I am in Canada]

My hobbies? Well, I do my own nails.

It started as a way to lower my monthly maintenance costs (as Mr. Beefcal so lovingly put it), and during the pandemic, I was the only one with my nails done. I have an office with a whole nail station and depending on the week, the colour can range from neon to nude. I only do my own (I'm not certified and will only risk damaging my nail beds thank you!), but it's a weekly activity where I enjoy an hour or two on my own.

I prefer the accent nails on the ring finger and thumb (as you can probably tell!), and despite me no longer going to the nail salon, I have accumulated a vast collection of nail polish, gels, nail tools, various nail builder supplies...

As for doll collecting? Baby, you and me are the same!

Yours in sin,

Beefro👌🥩💜

[staringdownabarrel]

Anyway, I've just read Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom. There's no spoilers here; I've just put it under the cut because this post is a bit long and it's not what I normally post about.

This is something that's been sitting on my shelf for a while--a bit over a decade actually, if I'm being honest--but this is the first time I've read it. I'd read one of his other books, Have A Little Faith, in high school, but I'd never gotten around this one until tonight.

I wish I'd read this book back then, when I first bought it. I think it would have landed with me better in early 2013 than it did tonight, in late 2024.

Some of that's just because I've changed. I'm not as susceptible to inspiration porn now as I was back then for a start, and that is ultimately what Tuesdays With Morrie is. But also, I think at nineteen, I was also just in the kind of place where I would have benefited a bit more from this. A lot of the core messages of this book are ones I've come to on my own independently, and I think I probably would have saved myself a lot of trouble if only I'd learned them back then.

Plus, there are some thematic similarities to other books I was reading around that time. For example, "The most important thing in life is to give out love, and to let it come in...Let it come in. We think we don't deserve love, we think if we let it in we'll become soft" might not be a direct parallel to everyone's favourite quote from The Perks of Being A Wallflower, "We accept the love we think we deserve," but it's definitely in the same ballpark.

So I think it probably would have just landed better with me at the time. This sorta was the level I was on at the time in general, and reading something like this now feels a bit like being knocked to all the way back then.

Some of it is also just that the world has changed. It's not that Morrie was wrong to think the way he did; it's that the world has gone so much further down the path he lamented to the point that the mid '90s almost seem like paradise by comparison.

I mean, consider this quote for a minute. "People are only mean when they're threatened," he said later that day, "and that's what our culture does. Even people who have jobs in our economy are threatened, because they're worried about losing them. And when you get threatened, you start looking out only for yourself. You make money a god. It is all part of this culture."

On one hand, yes, that is true with the culture and economic model we have. This was as true when he said this as it is today, thirty years later. On the other hand, I don't think anyone's going to argue that it's gotten any better. If anything, it's only gotten worse.

So, y'know, to some extent I feel like a lot of this book has been undercut by the fact that so much of Morrie's perspective just seems quaint in the face of thirty years of things getting worse. That probably wouldn't have been as much of an issue for me when I first bought the book because at the time, I thought things were starting to get better in an economic sense.

But look, none of this is to say this is a bad book. I'm not about to go off and become some self-help guru who posts about every inspiration porn book I come across because it's probably gonna be another decade or so before I read another, but this one isn't so bad. In some ways it's a product of its time and I think a modern audience might be immune to some of the tunes on your heartstrings it's trying to play, but I think the overall messaging is on point.

I think it probably would go over well with a Tumblr-y style audience, too; or at least parts of it. There's definitely parts of this that are very critical of capitalism and its effects on society. It'd probably come off as lefty sentiment 101 to a lot of the most ardent leftists on this site much as it did to me, but I think there is an argument to be made that it can be used as a tool to ease younger people into some anticapitalist ideas.

To be clear here, I very much doubt that was what Mitch Albom wanted the takeaway to be. Based on some passages in this book and a couple of opinion pieces I found via Google that he's written in the last five years or so, my best guess is that Albom is probably a moderate, politically speaking. This is very much a book by a guy who thinks people should take a more active interest in their spiritual life, but probably sees a distinction between his spiritual and political beliefs. It's just the sort of thing I can see a Tumblr or Tumblr adjacent audience doing with it.

I could be dead wrong on that one, of course. I haven't gone and read every little thing he's ever written; that's just a general impression. Please feel free to correct me if you know better, but please provide sources so I can take a look.

The other thing I liked about this book is that it was relatively quick to get through. It only took a couple of hours. I've probably spent more time writing this post than I did reading it, to be honest.

To some extent, I do wish it'd gone on for a bit longer. I don't think it would have made too much difference to how long it took me to read it, for the most part--maybe half an hour or so, give or take. Obviously that would have rubbed up against authorial intent though because this book was intended to be what it was, but I think there probably would have been some benefit to the book going a bit more in depth about what was said in these discussions on Tuesdays.

Whether or not it's worth reading for the intended philosophical angle is, in my view, an open question. For me, obviously I think I would have benefited from it more at a particular stage in my life. There's probably still people out there who are at that stage in their lives who'd benefit from it, or maybe need to wait a few years before they're ready to fully digest it.

[jupiterminingcorporation]

56 Days of Gratitude #13

13. Every little thing she does is magic

Witchcraft is something that I did for much of my youth without realising what I was doing until I was researching a story and found the now sadly defunct Witchcraft Magazine in a newsagent back in 1996 or 1997.

Once I read through it and found out a lot more about modern witchcraft and paganism something in me was kinda like... "Oh!" and suddenly everything made sense!

When I was 13, my Dad's girlfriend (later my stepmother, who passed away earlier this year) gave me a book called London Witchcraft Occult and Around (I think, it was ~32 years ago!), which had a bunch of addresses of places to get your occult on in and around London in the 1970s, but also had a bunch of spells in the back. Of course, being 13 and hormonal, I tried out the love spell, but my crush never reciprocated!!

I wrote earlier in this challenge about my connection with nature, and this is something that plays in a lot with my craft. Looking back through my life I can see the threads woven right through. My habit of collecting bones goes back to age 10 - I even asked Mum if I could dig up our cat Fred to see what his skeleton looked like, and was quite surprised when she seemed angry that I asked. My parents usually encouraged scientific enquiry!

Even though I've been doing the magical woman thing for a long time now, being someone who does a lot of book research in other areas actually tripped me up with this aspect of my life. I bought a beginner's guide when I was a beginner, and set up an altar the way you're "supposed" to, with all the "right" tools, and set about performing the "proper" rituals. It always felt pretty stiff and unnatural to me and it took me a while to figure out why - most of the books on witchcraft assume the reader - the witch - is coming to witchcraft from some other religion, and with some sort of ritual structure already in place. So, they assume, Dear Reader will transplant the new rituals easily over the top of the rituals they've been used to doing.

I, on the other hand, went to church maybe six times in my entire life. And only because when I was in early primary school state schools still took you to the local church for the Easter service, and I think one at Christmas. And I went to one service when I stayed overnight with friends one Saturday, Never made that mistake again!

So, to me, religious rituals are completely foreign. Sacred vessels and blessings and all of those trappings of major religions kinda leave me cold.

I definitely like nice chalices and athames and definitely love me a good cauldron. But buying the nice things and putting them on my altar (loves me a nice altar, and I'm good at making them!) never quite clicked the same way as discovering the concept of modern witchcraft.

Until I stopped doing it the right way, and started doing it my own way. Until I started using things I found that resonated with me - natural objects and things from op shops along with the new pieces I bought that I really loved rather than the pieces that were what I was supposed to put on my altar.

My witchcraft work has been left in the dust this year. Yes, it would be really great for my emotional health to be connected with it, but I just have no energy for it. Also no space because my house is a bomb site.

But I did have a realisation of another reason why it was so hard for me to connect with all the objects I was trying so hard to incorporate into my practice, the altars that were supposed to be the focus of my work, the energies of the crystals and herbs that were needed for spells...

I work best when I pull energy from within myself and use that to manifest my intention. I used to do it all the time. My thoughts are my most powerful spells, they connect me to Deity, they make shit happen. The spells and rituals I work on with lots of external tools and ingredients don't work for me because they scatter and diffuse my thoughts.

So, really, it's no wonder that my working takes a dive when my life makes my chronic illnesses flare and my energy levels flatline? How can an energy witch work when the well is almost down to spongy mud??

I'm grateful that I figured all this out, though, because it's made it easier for me to focus on what my craft means to me and what is important to have around, physically for my work. It also means that I can stop being so hard on myself for not being witchy enough when my energy is low, because I know now that the energy and the witchy are inextricably linked.

[andmaybegayer]

I bought a typewriter!

Now you might be thinking many things about this like “Well that seems excessive” and “hey Kali aren’t you a Computers Dipshit” and the answer to both of those is yes.

There’s another two posts in me about this, one about why this typewriter in particular is such an interesting piece of cultural history, and another about how it works and why it’s Like This. This post is about neither of those interesting things and instead about me showing off the cool new thing I got and explaining why I wanted it.

One of the old boxes of ribbon cartridges that came with this. Manufactured 1984. Graphic design truly is my passion.

Alright breakdown of what I got:

1976 IBM Selectric II Typewriter (with Courier 12-pitch typing element)

An original Vinyl cover for the machine

Three additional typing elements (in Orator, Artisan and Diplomat)

The original manual

Two large boxes of ancient ribbon cartridges.

A bag full of correction reels

A few pads of correction film

An antique toothbrush for cleaning the elements

A box of accessories that came with the typewriter: Correction tape, typeballs, correction films, three typeballs, some fontface samples on an old envelope, and a toothbrush.

This is an old working machine, not a showpiece. In fact, it was in use right up until the day I bought it and I fully intend to keep using it for as long as I can. This thing is 44 years old, also known as twice my age, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be the one who breaks it.

I bought it for ZAR 1200 (about USD 70) from a woman who deals in imported wines, she used it to fill in shipping forms. She has several other typewriters and has been slowly selling them off so I don’t feel bad about this. She’d had it since the 80′s. USD 70 is an absolute song for a working Selectric, they usually go for at least double that without any accessories, but no one is buying typewriters around these parts.

The original manual, dated 1978.

I’ve wanted a typewriter for a little while now, because I wanted a writing tool that produces physical artifacts quickly and immediately. I’m very avidly aware that while I write more than I ever have (mostly Tumblr posts) these days, they’re all very ephemeral. They will not outlive Tumblr, and they certainly will not outlive me. Carbon black on paper is much more long lived, typewritten texts are still readable over a century later in many cases. MySpace accidentally deleted everything that happened on their site before 2013. You decide which one is more sensible.

In addition, this is a nice way for me to produce writing that is too personal for my usual habit of cracking open a Tumblr edit tab. A lot of posts are languishing in my drafts folder after I realised I didn’t actually want to post them online and just needed to get them out of my head. This is mostly intended to take the place of wandering in circles in my room talking to myself.

A sample sheet with the four font faces that came with this typewriter

Now you may say that I should just type stuff on a computer, or write out notes longhand. To that I say a) printing is the worst experience one can have on a computer and b) I hate writing by hand. I could never keep diaries as a kid because it involved writing by hand and it sucked, in fact I’m almost certain that I don’t actually know how to write and that I just figure out the shapes of letters new every time I have to do it. I can type extremely naturally, almost at my speed of thought. I will only get better at this. It is also UNBELIEVABLY loud.

I’ll have to talk more about the historical and social legacy of the IBM Selectric and, to a lesser degree, that of typewriters in general in another post, as well as the utter miracle of engineering prowess that is the IBM Selectric. Let’s just say that those were also a big part of why I chose this. It’s a really important piece of history for engineers, computer nerds, typists and secretaries, the last of which is a group to which I have no real claim but I think they’re neat.

A scan of the demo page the last owner wrote for me, showing most of the capabilities of the machine.

This thing is a battleship, it’s in basically perfect condition. The only problems are that the correction tape needs to be replaced and realigned, and the currently installed typeball is stuck on and the release lever isn’t working. These can both be solved without too much trouble, plus there’s a phone number for a repair and servicing place that the previous owner took it to stuck on the outside, so that’s good for me. Yes, there are still places that service these machines as normal business, I was very surprised.

 little bit of my own demo text. Did you know William Gibson wrote Neuromancer, that cyberpunk hyperfuturistic work of fiction, on a typewriter? He didn’t own a computer until after it was published.

1:1 pixel focus of the text from the above photo. It is a VERY smooth operator. You can see where I corrected an error in the word “channel”.

That’s about all I got for now, this is extremely cool. I’m really enjoying using it.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Kindness & Kidnapping

A JSE Fanfic

I’ve written something that’s less than 6000 words for the first time in a year, whoo! I was planning to include more plot but after a while I realized there was too much to put into one chapter so I broke it into two. And now, this chapter is short, but it has some important and...interesting developments. Let’s just say, Anti makes his move. I don’t know what to say beyond that, so just read on ;)

You can find the other stories under the pw timeline tag!

It was a bright morning outside, but Chase didn’t know that. He was inside, sitting at a hastily-done computer setup inside his closet. It was cramped and dark and honestly kind of dusty. But he hadn’t wanted to keep this setup out in the open. Because this was the computer he’d been using to access Anti’s website, and if he kept it out in any other room of the house, he knew he’d keep glancing towards the windows and doors, waiting for something to happen.

Though...nothing had happened in the past week or so since he’d first found the website. He’d told the police about it, contacting that detective, Nix, who was in charge of the search for Jackie and JJ. Nix had been really appreciative, saying that this was a helpful clue and the police would be right on it, but he’d warned Chase to not go looking at any websites like this again. “These are dangerous,” he’d said. “And many of them use trackers to gather information or worse.”

Yet here he was. First thing in the morning. Staring at a creepy hitman website while sitting in his closet.

Part of his mind was yelling at him to stop. That even though he’d waited a few days before accessing the site again, that didn’t mean anything. This was dangerous. But...he couldn’t help it. This was the first time he felt like he was doing something, like he was actually helping the search for his friends. So, he stayed there.

His study of the website mostly consisted of scrolling through the anonymous reviews and trying to find ways to look at the source code. Chase...wasn’t that good with computers. Despite the fact that recording videos and putting them on the Internet was his job. He’d basically absorbed all his knowledge from Jack and his editor and only knew how to do things like editing because of that. Anything beyond what was required for YouTube was a mystery to him. But he was trying.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he gasped, then felt silly. It was just a text notification. Sighing at his own jumpiness, he took out his phone and looked at the message on the screen. It was from Marvin. Hey do you know any quick ways to get food? Other than ordering.

Oh? Chase responded. Are you out of bed this early? Thats a 1st. And he didn’t just mean because Marvin was having trouble getting out of bed recently. Marvin never woke up before ten, even before JJ disappeared, so this was strange.

Luna was yelling at me because i forgot to fill her bowl last night and i couldnt deal with it anymore so i got up and thought i might as well get breakfast.

Thats great bro. As for food I bought you some microwave mac n cheese and noodles.

Marvin instantly replied, I’m not eating fucking noodles for breakfast. That’s weird.

Chase laughed a bit. Sorry, Marv. I know your sense of order is a big thing for you, but sometimes you need exceptions.

This time, the reply was slow. The typing bubbles appeared and disappeared a couple times before finally: i just cant. maybe another time.

Ah. Of course, even if he was out of bed, Marvin was still struggling. Chase thought for a moment, then said, Alright, Marvin. No problem. How bout toast and butter? It takes five to ten minutes depending on how much you want it burnt. That was a frequent go-to for him. I know u have bread and butter, too.

Alright. Thanks.

No problem. Chase paused, then added, Hey I was gonna go visit Jack again later today. Do u think youd be up for coming with?

Another long pause. I dunno. Ask me again when it’s closer to time.

Got it. And with that, Chase set his phone down and returned his attention to the website.

About an hour later, he gave up. He couldn’t find any clues at all, and reading this was really starting to get to him. Carefully standing up, so as to not knock over the computer setup in the tiny closet, he turned off the monitor and CPU, then edged around to the closet door. He hesitated, feeling uneasy anxiety rolling in his stomach, then slowly opened the door.

Nobody was outside. Well, of course not. He took a deep breath, and stepped out into the hallway. It was time to get ready for the day.

But still, that anxiety followed him. And he couldn’t help but remember the notice that Anti had put at the top of the website. Something about business being closed until something was “taken care of.” That just...sounded very bad. And Chase couldn’t help but think about what might be happening to Jameson and Jackie.

—————— 

Nearly a month had passed since Anti had taken JJ. For nearly a month, Jameson had been stuck in this room with Jackie. And with no means of escape that he could see. He’d looked, of course. But even with Jackie’s help, they couldn’t find a way out of the room. The closest thing he could think of was somehow unscrewing the door hinges, and he’d actually spent about a week trying to do that, but without any tools, there was no way those hinges would budge.

The only opportunity that he could see was when Anti visited, which he did often. But even that would be difficult to pull off. Jameson and Jackie might have numbers on their side, but Jackie was pretty weak after almost a year of captivity, and JJ had never been that athletic. Still, he was starting to consider it. Maybe Anti wouldn’t be expecting it, if he could just convince Jackie that they could do it, and if they could find an opportunity...

But even if they were going to try, today would not be the day. Anti had come into the room for one of his visits, which were becoming worryingly frequent, and Jackie had decided to hide in the attached bathroom. Jameson refused to look at Anti, in the vain hope that he’d go away if he didn’t engage.

“Jamie.” Anti pulled a chair away from the table, and then indicated the one across from him. “Come s...sit down.”

Jameson shook his head. He folded his arms, and stayed where he was, standing next to the bunk bed.

Anti stared at him for a while, then sat down. It didn’t ease the tension at all. For some reason, Jameson still felt like he was looming over him. “Alright. F-fine.” He paused. Waiting. Watching him with his mismatched eyes. Today, the fake one was brown, not green. Odd, but it didn’t lessen the intensity of his gaze.

After a few silent moments, Jameson couldn’t take it anymore. He slowly walked over to the table and sat down. God damn it. Why was just the silence enough to get him to respond?

“Ah, there we are.” Anti smiled. “About time. You’re always so...so tense, Jamie, when you really shouldn’t be. I won’t h-hurt you.”

What do you want this time? Jameson signed stiffly.

“Why do you keep asking that? I don’t want...anything, I just want to...talk.” Anti leaned back in the chair. “I don’t understand th-this. You’re so...different. And I’m trying, you know. Know. You know—I know, by now, that this wasn’t the best starting point. But I’m trying to...to get everything back to the way it was. You want that, don’t you?” His voice was soft, like he was talking to an easily startled animal. Or a child.

No, I don’t. Jameson said firmly. I don’t want everything to go back to how it was, because back then, you were making me help you throw bodies in the river.

“That was a mistake, okay? Oka-ay?” Anti sighed. “I shouldn’t...should never have gotten you involved in all this. So, I’m not going to, ever again.”

Jameson laughed. You’re a bit late for that! Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you kidnapped me!

“That was another mistake, and I’m sorry that you f-f-feel I was out of line. I can see what you...what you mean. But you’d never talk to me otherwise, let alone go anywhere with me.” Anti’s fingers tapped an irregular rhythm on the table. “But I can pr-promise you, no more dead bodies. Ever. Ever again. You’ll be safe.”

He sounded genuine, and JJ had to admit that at least there was still a part of him that cared about—no! Jameson stiffened and pushed away that softening feeling. It didn’t change any of this. Anti still abducted him, and he was willing to bet that ‘safe’ to Anti wasn’t the same as ‘safe’ to him. It would be more of this, most likely. Trapped inside, unable to go anywhere, always under Anti’s watchful eye. Why was he even continuing this conversation? Jameson balled up his hands and shoved them under his arms, physically preventing him from saying anything more.

Anti’s expression shifted slightly. “You’re being so difficult, my god. We’ve been doing this for a-a-a month and gotten nowhere. If you would just li-listen, we could go—past—move past this.” The tapping rhythm increased slightly, nails on wood. “But alright—okay. Fine. Yes. I-I-I have a pro—” And then the tapping stopped. Anti’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh. That’s it.”

Jameson leaned back a bit, waiting for something. Those last words sounded like a threat. But—

Out of nowhere, Anti slumped forward onto the table. JJ gasped and stood up. In an instant, he was moving automatically, rolling Anti’s head to the side and looking for anything dangerous nearby. There was nothing. Could he breathe? Was this a good position, or should he move him? He should’ve recognized it, Anti was having difficulty with his words, he knew that was a sign—Wait, the watch. The watch he was wearing around his neck, the chain it was on had tightened a bit. JJ grabbed the chain and adjusted it so it was more loose.

A few seconds later, Anti gasped, and pushed JJ away. He stepped back.

“I...fuck.” Anti blinked, eyes glancing around the room. For a moment, he was confused. JJ could see the recognition slowly fade back into his expression. “Thwshnnbad.”

JJ watched anxiously. For a moment, he glanced over towards the door. But...he just couldn’t. Not now. Maybe he was too nice, but it just felt cruel to try and leave after that.

Anti took a few deep breaths, then looked over at JJ. “You helped.”

Jameson hesitated, then nodded.

“Hmm.” Anti didn’t say anything, but there was a look on his face that made Jameson squirm a bit. Almost smug. Almost. There was a fair share of gratitude that prevented it from being fully self-satisfied. Anti reached for his pocket, and after a few tries, pulled out his phone. “That was...not that long?”

Just a few seconds. Maybe fifteen or so, JJ said. No twitching or jerking. 

Nodding, Anti tapped on his phone for a bit. “It’s...been a while,” he said quietly. “They’re not that bad anymore, you know.”

Unsure what to say, Jameson just nodded again.

A few moments later, Anti took a deep breath, and returned his phone to his pocket. “Anyway. As...I was saying. I have a proposal.”

Immediately, all Jameson’s sympathy was gone, replaced by cold fear. What is it? he asked warily.

Anti didn’t answer for a bit. Instead, he reached inside his jacket, and pulled out a small keycard. “Do you know what this is?”

A card? Like...for a hotel?

“No, not for a hotel.” Anti smiled a bit. “Though I guess...it’s sort of like it.” His eyes darted towards the bathroom door, slightly ajar. “He’s been telling you about what happened. With him and the doctor.” It wasn’t a question. So Jameson didn’t answer. But he didn’t have to. “Did you ever meet that doctor?”

Jameson started to shake his head, then reconsidered. Once, he said. He thought I was you.

“We do look similar. Even more so than all these...these doppelgangers do to each other.” Anti tried to twirl the keycard around his fingers, but failed. It fell to the table, and he quickly picked it up again. “So, you only met him once. Hmm...I expected you to interact with him more. You’re part of this...this friend group now. I thought, surely, they’d introduce you to each other. Well, I guess they tried. I’m assuming it didn’t go well.” He paused. “But still. You’re a good person, Jamie.”

What are you saying? Jameson almost didn’t want to ask.

“You wouldn’t want anything to happen to him, right?”

Anti fell silent, but Jameson didn’t dare to answer. He couldn’t. 

“This keycard happens to give me...access to the hospital where he’s staying,” Anti continued. “I’ve already been there. I know how to get him out.”

Don’t hurt him, Jameson said, all color gone from his face. Please.

“That depends on you. Well, and our friend in there.” Anti indicated the bathroom door again. “Originally, I was going to use him, but then I thought, that didn’t stop that doctor woman from leaving. But he might try to leave himself, especially with the two of you...here. Together. So I thought I’d use something that’ll affect both of you.”

He hasn’t done anything to you. Leave him alone.

“That doesn’t mean he’ll never do anything,” Anti suddenly snapped. “The cops know I exist now. It’s only a matter of time before they start to ask him questions.” The anger drained away. Now his face was still, unreadable. “Besides, that didn’t stop me before.”

Why did you even take him in the first place? Jameson asked. Why? It wasn't for your...work. All of this could’ve been avoided.

“I was...curious. He thought I was his friend Jack, you know. When I ran into him that night. And I thought to myself, this man is clearly delusional. But I figured it would be easier to play along. After he realized what happened, he explained his whole condition to me, and I wondered. I wondered how I could use that.” Anti’s smile was sharp. “It’s not every day an opportunity like that runs into you on the street.”

Jameson backed away, horrified. Too late, Anti noticed his reaction. And for a moment, he looked hurt. Then angry. Sad. And finally, determined. “Think about what I said.” He stood up, and headed towards the door. For a moment, Jameson considered following him. But he hesitated for a second too long, and Anti was gone, the door locked behind him.

The room was silent. Jameson stood there for what felt like forever. Then he moved, walking towards the bathroom. He slowly pushed open the door, peering inside. “Hmm?” he hummed.

“Down here.” Jackie was sitting on the tile floor, up against the shower in the corner of the room. The bathroom was sparse and small, containing only the necessities of a toilet, sink, and shower, along with a bonus medicine cabinet that was empty. There was nowhere to sit except the floor.

JJ stepped inside. Did you hear all of that?

Jackie nodded silently. His hands were covering his head, fingers digging into his scalp. Tears threatened to spill out of his eyes, and judging by the tracks, a few already had. “H-he can’t—Schneep is going to—he won’t be able to—”

It’s going to be fine, JJ said, kneeling next to him. We won’t let anything happen to him.

“The—the only way to make sure of that is—but you can’t—you could get away if you—but not if he’s—”

It’s going to be fine, Jameson repeated uncertainly. I’ll make sure that it’ll work out. Maybe I can get Anti to listen to me. We can find a way. The police would notice Henrik disappearing, they’ll find us.

Jackie choked on a sob. He pulled his knees up to his chest and folded his arms on top of them. “They haven’t,” he said quietly. “They’re...not going to.” And he buried his face in his arms, shoulders shaking. 

Jameson didn’t have anything to say to that. All he could do was stay close, and hold Jackie tight as he cried.

—————— 

It was a lovely day outside. For late-November-near-December, that is. Though the sun shone bright in a cloudless sky, there was still a chill to the air that forced people to wear jackets, or even coats. But Schneep didn’t mind. He hadn’t been outside in so long that anything would feel refreshing.

Silver Hills had itself a back garden where some patients could spend time. It was fenced in, for safety, but it was still quite large. Dr. Laurens had told him the news at the end of yesterday’s session: she’d gotten approval for some supervised time outside. Schneep had been hesitant at first. Some of his old paranoia and fear resurfacing. When he’d been with Anti, he hadn’t been allowed out without permission. And even when he had permission, Anti always found a way to keep an eye on him, either via cameras and GPS or by accompanying him himself. What if—what if this was another trick? A test? And if he failed the test—

No, of course not. Everything was alright here. There were other patients out and about, going on walks along the paths and stopping to look at flowers nearby. Schneep watched them from where he was sitting on one of the garden’s benches. He twirled his medical bracelet around his wrist. They’d also finally decided that he could wear clothes—besides the standard issue white shirt and pants—again. As long as they didn’t have any hard fastenings or dangly bits like strings, but that was understandable. So now the bracelet was the only sign that he was a patient here. Which was the same as everyone else. That...helped, actually. Somehow.

“Schneep? Is everything alright?”

“Hmm?” Schneep blinked, realizing he’d been gone for a while there. Oliver was nearby, as always. In this case, sitting at another bench nearby, far enough away to give Schneep his own space but close enough in case of an emergency. “Yes, I am fine. It is just a bit chilly.”

“Well...you’re not wrong there,” Oliver muttered. The orderly uniform was short-sleeved, and evidently, they weren’t allowed to wear anything over it.  His arms were covered in raised goosebumps. “Anything else?”

“No, I was just thinking.” Schneep looked down at his lap. Laurens had given him one of her notebooks and a box of markers. He’d said that he wanted to try drawing, like they’d done in one of their sessions, and she’d been encouraging. So now he was trying to draw the gardens. It was hard. He wasn’t particularly artistic, and he was pretty sure a twelve-year-old could do better than him. But it was...nice. Focusing. Grounding.

Oliver nodded, and went silent. Schneep returned to his paper. The markers were a bit annoying, since they couldn’t be erased. But it was fine. He worked around the mistakes.

Quite a bit of time passed before he was ready to go inside. A few clouds had appeared in the clear sky. Schneep stood up, closing the notebook. Oliver looked over at him again. “Ready to go?”

“Yes, I’m going back to my room.”

“Alright, then.” Oliver stood up as well. “Let’s go.”

They made their way inside, winding through the halls and then up the stairs. It was so good to have his old room back, from before that tiny, featureless room on the first floor. Apparently those rooms weren’t supposed to be lived in for that long, a fact that the lovely Dr. Newson had neglected to mention. But that was in the past. Now he had a window! And some battery-powered lamps, and a bathroom joined to the room, and more furniture than a bed and a single table. It was amazing.

“Alright, here we are.” They stopped outside Room 309 and Oliver unlocked it with a swipe of the key card. It was only ever unlocked when nobody was inside; another difference between this one and the tiny first-floor room. “You remember to push the button if you need anything?”

“Yes, yes.” There was a call button on the wall inside. Pressing it would bring an orderly to the room, hopefully within minutes. “I remember.”

“Great. I’ll be around.”

“Thank you.” Schneep opened the door, adjusting his grip on the notebook and box of markers before heading inside. “I will be seeing you, then.”

Oliver smiled a bit. “Of course. See you.” He waved a bit, then walked off, disappearing down the hallway. Schneep waved after him, pulling the room door closed shortly before he started to turn the corner.

By now, it was solidly in the afternoon, and the sun was shining its beams directly into the window. Schneep blinked in the sudden brightness, then once his eyes adjusted, he walked over to the table and put down the notebook and markers. He opened up to the page with the garden drawing and considered it. Not bad, really. For someone who wasn’t an artist. Jackie and Marvin would’ve done much better. Maybe they could have given him advice, if they were here.

It would be some time before dinner. A little over an hour, judging by the numbers on the digital clock on the table. In the meantime, he could get some reading done. The room had a shelf, and Laurens had been providing him with some books for it. He was just barely starting a new novel, but it had already sucked him in. Yes, that was a good idea. Get through a few chapters of that.

Schneep headed over to the shelf, running his fingers over the spines of the books until he reached the one he was looking for. He was just about to pull it off the shelf when there was a movement in his peripheral vision.

He stiffened instinctually. Even though he’d been seeing strange movement in his vision for years now, he’d only been uneasy about it ever since his time with Anti. But he wasn’t supposed to acknowledge it. It was better that way. Just ignore it, just ignore it, just ignore—

There were footsteps behind him. And he couldn’t help but turn around. The first thing he saw as he turned was the door to the adjoining bathroom. It was open. Hadn’t he left it closed? Could he have not closed it all the way? Then some sort of shift in the air could’ve opened it, causing the movement he saw?

No, that theory was disproved when he saw the second thing of note in the room: a man. Who hadn’t been there before. He was wearing the orderly uniform, but Schneep didn’t recognize him.

No.

No, he did recognize him.

His eyes were a different color, and his face wasn’t scarred, but there could be no mistaking him. Anti.

Schneep froze. No. No, it wasn’t real. He was just hallucinating. He’d done the same a few days ago, thought he’d seen Anti in the rec room. That couldn’t have been real. So this couldn’t be real. So it wasn’t. If he just ignored the hallucination, it couldn’t do anything to him. Slowly, he turned back around. He reached with trembling hands to take the book off the shelf.

More footstep sounds. He saw in the corner of his vision the image of Anti again. Anti was circling around him to his left, staring, watching, staring, watching—why is everyone always watching him?!—No, no, don’t let it get to him. It wasn’t real. He pulled the book off the shelf, and knocked down its two neighbors in the process, grabbing those as they fell. It was fine. Everything was fine.

He took a few deep breaths and turned away, taking the three books to an armchair near the window of the room. The image of Anti watched him, watched him with interest, curiosity. He always did that. He’d done it in the beginning, when he’d trapped Schneep in that house with him, always curious about how far he could push his limits.

“Es ist nicht real,” Schneep said to himself. Just a reminder. It couldn’t be real. How’d he get into the room? The front door hadn’t opened, and it was impossible for him to be inside beforehand. The room had been locked. Nobody could get in without unlocking it with a keycard. “Es ist nicht real. Es ist nicht real.” It was impossible.

Footstep sounds. Schneep could see the image of Anti approaching out of the corner of his vision. He didn’t turn his head, and focused on stacking the three books on the window sill. “Es ist nicht real, ist nicht real, ist nicht real, nicht real, nicht real,” he continued to whisper under his breath. “Nicht real, nicht real, nicht real.”

The image reached out and—

It grabbed his arm. 

He felt a sharp pain.

Panic flooded his system. Schneep screamed and spun around, picking up one of the books and throwing it at the man. The book connected solidly, hitting with enough force to snap the man’s head back and cause him to let go. He yelled out in pain.

No, someone was here. It wasn’t a hallucination. Someone was here and they weren’t supposed to be. Schneep ran across the room, heading for the door.

“You—!” The man recovered quickly, and ran to the door as well. He was faster, and Schneep skidded to a halt as the strange man who looked like Anti blocked the door. 

Okay, no door then. Schneep’s eyes scanned the room, and—the call button! Of course! He lunged to the side. The man saw where he was going, and pounced.

Schneep’s hand landed on the button for a split second before the man grabbed his wrist. He started to yell for help, but the man covered his mouth. “Shush,” his voice hissed as he wrapped his other arm around Schneep’s torso.

No! Schneep immediately started struggling, kicking his legs and trying to wriggle free. For a moment, his right arm pulled away, and he hit the strange man in the face. But the man was quick, and recaptured the escaped hand before it could do any damage. “Calm down, you’re going to be asleep in a few moments anyway,” the man said. “Don’t make this hard on yourself.”

That voice—it was—but it couldn’t be. It was impossible—how would he get inside? That—no. Schneep’s thoughts swirled in broken fragments, unable or unwilling to finish and come to the natural conclusion. He shook his head and continued to struggle. The man’s grip was firm. Unbreakable. It was...a familiar feeling.

There was something on his hand. Something powdery, chalky. Like...some sort of makeup. Like...something that could be used to hide blemishes. Or scars. It was on his right hand, the one he’d used to hit the man’s face.

Where Anti’s scars would be.

No...it wasn’t possible. This couldn’t be happening! It wouldn’t be—was it all a trick? All of it? Was he always planning to come back? Or maybe it was all in his head—no. He refused to believe that one.

Strangely, the longer he struggled, the slower his movement became. Sluggish...weak. And Schneep recognized these effects immediately. A sedative? But when...oh. Oh, that sharp pain he’d felt when he had grabbed him...that was a needle, wasn’t it? It was too late, wasn’t it?

Too late...yes, his vision was starting to waver. Schneep gave up on the weak escape attempts. They weren’t doing any good, anyway. Maybe he’d managed to hit the call button, and someone would be coming. Maybe...maybe they could...stop this...help him...please...please...

He looked up into the eyes of his captor and the world faded away.

[emj-tolj]

Bringing a World of Adventure Hunting in to Your Home

Not everyone is not living in a position to wander the woods, desert, beach or ruins. I had that situation at one point in my life. And yes its depressing. And when you read others doing all these things its can really get to you. However there are a huge number of things yo CAN do to counteract the depression. Lets visit a good many of these things:

1) Everyone’s first Go-to is Roleplaying. Be its table-top or online. But not all Online games bring out the true desire to adventure, as they are limited to telling a specific story. As such I suggest avoiding using game maps and make you own real maps. Right down and study any runes in the game, study the magic tech in the game, write side stories of your character that can not be done in game. Create a history to the character you made. Some games are limited what you character looks like. Draw your own character and hang it by your game station.

2) If you have adventure wear, wear it about the house/apartment. Does not have to be all of it. Boots, a shirt, a vest, tunic, wristbands, cloak 

3) If you  have the money and talent turn kitchen into a tavern or saloon, line shelfs with bottles and plates and other tavern/saloon wear. Avoid cheese props. Study movie sets and get ideas from that. 

4) Likewise turn your bedroom into an Inn room. Go ristic and simple with natural colors and materials

5) Burn in a cauldron or censor wood chips, herbs and incense, 

6) Hang posters of nature about the walls in natural wood frames. If you can obtain some old wood window frames, you that as your poster frames. If possible find images of nature on line and print them out. Try to make all the images co-inside, so its looks like you are looking out into the same view. Change the posters with the seasons if possible 

7) Place realistic life-size animals about your home: Snake, turtle, mice, birds, chipmunks, insects. If you have a ficus tree or a cluster of plants, place a birds nest with eggs in it

8) Play sound effects and ambient sounds in the house. Youtibe and other sites have a plethora of ambiance and sounds from cave to camp sites, tavern sounds, market squares, pirate ships, forests 

9) Add a fountain/s in your home. Fountain pumps can be bought anywhere these days, 

10) Terrariums! Make them and add them to your home. Even of the plants are fake 

11) Aquariums! If your adventurous aestheic love is the see or any water setting like ponds, these are fantastic to have. And do not limit yourself to just fish: Crabs, snails, turtles, frogs, lizards, snakes. Even if you are not allowed to have pes, build an aquarium anywhere. The flow of the water from the filtar moving the plants can lend to the imagination  

12) Wood, tin and copper and wrought iron objects 

13) Leather bound books. Line a shelf with them, 

14) Candles and lanterns. Some people can not have things where they live for safety mode. Even if you never burn them, have a cluster of candles anyway. Just the look of lanterns and candles plays with the mind. You can also invest in battery ones but I think they are silly looking

15) Bowls of fruit: Wood bowls and real fruits and nuts about the house. 

16) Seasonal and year round garlands and wreaths about the house. Clusters of ferns. If you do not have a green thumb, go fake if need be. Ferns and spider plans are my fave. 

17) Drift wood and moss covered wood. 

18) If you have your own Adventure clothes and gear do not bury it in a closet. Get a mannequin and display it, 

19) Fur, leather, blankets, wool, sheepskin throws and pillows.

20) Banners and tapestries 

21) Invest in a couple of mortar & pestle sets, one for the kitchen and one for the bathroom is you have the room. (Confession: I collect them) 

22) Hang herbs and dry plants in the kitchen.   

23) Clay pots and assorted pottery about the house. Try to sick with OLD looking styles. Check out some sites or books on ancient styles for an idea 

24) Antlers add a wonderful feel to ambience. Even if fake. Now they are made into door handles, draw knobs and so much more. (DO NO go hung deer and elk JUST for their racks)

25) Bowls and vases of snail shells, acorns, pine cones, 

26) Rolls and displays of maps, 

17) Glass and Ceramic bottles: Display a few or better yet, use them! fill them with shampoos, liquid soaps, drinks and what ever else you use and look at daily  

18) Old style dip pens and ink vials on your desk along with scrolls of parchment and an old leather bound journal, 

19) Color glass baubles like the ones at christmas time and “witch balls” These are great if your Aesthetic is the sea or in the Witchy profession, 

20) Wood wand display. Not talking about Harry Potter here. Do a little reserach and find or make a REAL one. Display it on your desk or mantle staff. If you have a set, even better. 

21) A Statue of an ancient god, 

22) Baskets and wicker to hold things 

23) Metal goblets and drinking horns

24) If you have one or several hand your shields on the walls, 

25) Oil hurricane lamps, 

24) Hang and display Gourds about. If you know how to carve and stain gourds, all the better, 

25) Birds houses. In the house?? Sure, why not? 

26) Feathers. Sometimes just a vase of ling feathers helps. If they are feathers you find in your walks, just as better. Each one has a story  

28) Bowls of rocks. Not only does this bring the natural world in but its said that a bowl of rocks by the door and window wards off negativity. 

29) Old wood boxes. Just do not collect them but USE them. put whatever in them as storage. Afraid you will forget what’s in it??? All the better. There is your treasure at the end of your search. 

30) Corn dollies. These folk cultural dolls and designs have their roots into the ancient world. a display of them, especially during the late summer, really invokes the harvest season 

31) Ceramic and wood bake ware in the kitchen. Ads a rustic tavern feel. This could include   bread boards and bowls, wood spoons, rolling pins,

32) Replace DVD covers with parchment or wood texture covers. Sometimes a wall of game and DVD cases can kill an ambiance you are striving for. If you can not print out all these coves, hang a tapestry over your shelf unit or add wood shutter doors  

33) Cover your library of bright color books with leather, paper of plether, No access to leather? See of someone has an old leather jacket they are ditching you can cut up

34) Wood flutes, harps, ocarinas, pan pips, lyres and rustic drums add to a great tavern-ish display.

35) A tall vase of cattails gives ambiance for this that over adventures in places like rivers and lakes, 

36) If you have a collection of crystals, sea glass and gemstones, show them off in a wood box or basket, 

37) Halloween Witch bottles add to the adventure appel. (I have a buhnch and have all my teas in them, 

38) Fancy yourself an Librarian or treasure seeker? Have a display of “artifacts” like (potters, tiles, scales, bones, glass, wood), Find some broken pottery shards and make them look like Greek pottery. If you sculpt make a remnant of a state or a bone or prehistoric tooth. Create your own artifacts and put stories to them.

39) Hang a bunch of leather sachets and small bags from a hook or sit them on a shelf, 

40) Find yourself a rustic tea set, 

41) Collect vintage clay and wood tops. Tops have been around since ancient Assyria and Babylon.

42) Display a collection of carving tools or depending on your likes, a small anvil and hammer,  

43) Hand on hoots of rack by your door or wall woven wicker hats, leather caps and witch/witch hat, head wreaths,

44) Display an old stick/straw/grass broom head wreaths, 

45) Display a helm or helmet you have in a place that speaks “I am at the ready”

46) Fold a small stack of old burlap bags and place on a shelf and use them to store things like potatoes and onions, 

47) Display and basket of wood knitting needles and wool,

48) Grow plants, flowers, herbs and small trees. Even small pots of just grass adds a sense of nature and Adventure (The ancient Greeks would grow grass for their New Years Eve celebration) I have lemon trees in my windows I grew from seeds.

49) A Fish Net works great to add an aesthetic look to your space.

50) If nothing more find an artist and have him/her draw your aesthetic self as you see yourself in different poses, gear and situations. Blow thing up power size and hang them about your space

51) If you can not do any of this, create a physical scrap book of pictures and images that’s screams your aesthetic ideals. Visit it daily and add to it.

NOTE: While all these ideas are great starts, DO NOT over do it. Less is more. Rustic and simple. Avoid cheesy plastic props and things like signs screaming “I am a Proud Viking!” Investigate films, movies and history into your aesthetic loves and the world behind it. Do not create clutter. Make you space livable and function to your NEEDS. Make you space your home, not a museum. If your space is cluttered and does not bring you a feel of your Aesthetic feelings you may need to pull back on some of your props.     

[deejadabbles]

Crimson Portrait (Seto Kaiba x Reader)

So as I said in my drabble a couple days ago, I’m wanting to write some short fics to get back into the swing of things and I wanted to gift said drabbles to some mutual I adore. Next on my list is @ohyema​ the top Vampire and Yugioh enthusiast on this site! I’m sure you’ve all seen her amazing art floating around already, but in case not please check out her stuff (and reblog the heck outta it!), the way she colors her pieces and adds dramatic flair is something I aspire to tbh <3 

For this fic I decided to spread my proverbial wings and write Seto for a change (don’t get used to this though, Kaiba fans, I’m still not a Kaiba stan lol) and I hope you enjoy our dark, mysterious blood thirsty, CEO ;)

You gulped, eyes traveling up the metal and glass of the building as though counting each towering floor would make it any less intimidating. It wasn’t just the size, of course, it was the marble path spread out in front of the entry, it was the literal red carpet on the other side of doors- it was the gold etching and suited man around said doors! You found yourself clutching the portfolio case under your arm even tighter to your chest. Subtle lights brightened the edges of the building, though you were sure they were meant to make it shine like a beacon of wealth at night, rather than give it any cheer or levity. 

This was by far the fanciest place you had ever been and the doorman casting a glance at you made you tug at your clothes for probably the seventeenth time since heading here. The outfit was fine, you reminded yourself; professional, but simple. Nothing that would impede your movements and work, all while still being close enough to your true fashion to offer you some self assurance. And you needed every ounce of self assurance possible right now.

After taking in a long, deep breath and straightening your posture, you started for the door. Despite the high chance that he was suspicious of you, the doorman pulled on the finely crafted handle and allowed you entry with a polite bow, nothing less. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to acknowledge him, but you returned the silent respect automatically. Then again, it didn’t really matter if you broke etiquette, you weren’t the high-class that lived here anyway.

The lobby was just as fancy as the outside. Your shoes clicked on more marble floors, and rich colored walls wearing frames of fine art surrounded you. There was a large wooden desk to one side, and the receptionist behind it clocked you as a non-resident, because she instantly greeted you with a “can I help you, miss?”

“Um- yes! Yes, I’m here to visit Mr. Seto Kaiba?” you followed the claim with your name and silently praying that was all you needed. The only way you were getting passed the front desk was if Kaiba (or his assistant) left your name with the attendant.

With a polite smile plastered on her face, she nodded and typed something quick on a computer obscured by the large backing of the desk. “Ah yes, Mr. Kaiba is expecting you. Please take the center elevator, he’s on floor 40.”

She waved her hand to the other side of the lobby, where three elevators with doors as clean and reflective as new mirrors stood. You gave her a quick thank you before following her instructions. The inside of the elevators were just as polished, the metallic sides reflecting your image. 

As the floors passed by, you checked to make sure the journey here hadn’t ruffled your appearance any, tucking hairs back into place, swiping your hand over the pristine portfolio briefcase, tugging at your hems yet again. You almost jumped when the elevator dinged, announcing your arrival at the top floor. You waited a few heart beats, long enough to start worrying you had the wrong floor- until it finally slid open.

The apartment was dimly lit, all the ceiling lights set to a dull, intimate glow one might see in a fancy bar. Then a different wave of nerves overcome you, hopefully this guy didn’t have the wrong idea of what service you were providing. 

“Are you going to come in, or continue wasting my time?”

You did jump that time, especially with how impatient the deep rumble of a voice sounded. With hurried steps you entered the apartment and ventured down the short hallway, following the voice. The hallway quickly opened into an expansive room, a couch, coffee table, TV, and desk on one side, and a kitchen, breakfast bar, dining table, and wet bar on the other. On the living room side, where the desk’s back sat, there was a large floor-to-ceiling window, the curtains pulled back to reveal the spiderweb of city lights and life beyond. 

Of course, what really drew your attention was the man standing in front of the window.

He hadn’t turned from the view to look at you let alone greet you, hands tucked in his pockets as he watched the pulsing city life. He wore a white suit, with a blue button-up shirt and a dark blue tie, making for nice, clean lines for your portrait. Seto Kaiba. A household name in most countries, the secretive CEO of one of the biggest companies in the world who’s fame for innovation was only matched by his notorious hermit tendencies. He appeared on magazines often enough, but many pointed out that they were likely deliberate presentations to the world. Deliberate to alleviate rumors because, besides them, neither Kaiba nor his younger brother were ever seen out in public and even rather rarely in their own corporate buildings.

You weren’t exactly someone who bought into that celebrity gossip, but it was still rather surreal seeing him in person like this.

“You can set up on the other side of the desk,” he started, still not turning from the window. “This is the background I want, I expect you to be able to handle it considering the portraits on your online portfolio.”

You tried not to gulp, “Of course, but it may take me an extra session or two to get the details.”

“As long as it’s done before I return to Domino,” he answered in a drawl, then, finally turned to face you. He placed a slender hand on the back of the leather desk chair, and you quickly made yourself busy with setting up. 

You felt that nerve-wracking, almost burning sensation of eyes watching you, and you could just imagine the icy blue of the eyes, remembering how Kaiba’s gaze always pierced through the magazine covers and into the viewer. Instead of thinking of how hawk-like he was watching you, you focused on how challenging and fun it will be to capture that quality in your painting.

Once your blank canvas was set up and your tools were spread out, ready for use, you finally locked eyes with the man. “I’m ready when you are, Mr. Kaiba, please take whatever pose you feel most comfortable with.” You had to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine, especially when he held your gaze for a moment more before finally shifting his stance.

After some verbal redirecting so his pose looked the best and got the key parts of the cityscape behind him, you actually got started on the canvas. Tokyo Tower stood like a sentinel behind him, making for nice framing, and he was a natural at posing, of course choosing one that was strong and commanding to the onlookers. 

It was quiet as you worked, he wasn’t playing any music, nor offering any chitchat. It was only then that you realized just how alone you two were in the penthouse, didn’t rich dudes like him have platoons of bodyguards?

Within the free seconds you had between maping your piece, your mind wandered back to the rumors surrounding the Kaiba family and their reclusiveness. Tales of Kaiba insisting on specially tinted windows for all his buildings and never being seen in the light of day led to some interesting ones. Mostly conspiracies about him being the secret illegitimate son of royalty, and inheriting hemophilia from said parentage. Now, noting how pale he looked against the background of vibrant city lights, you could slightly understand buying into that rumor. 

Not only that, but, the more glances you took while working, the more you noticed just how...sickly the man looked. His cheeks were a bit sunken, made worse by the dark circles under his eyes And on top of that, there was a sore redness around his eyes that was seeming to get worse every time you peered passed your canvas. None of his magazine pictures ever showcased these...unwell qualities. He must just be tired, you decided, being a CEO likely didn’t allow for much sleep, and here he was posing for a portrait late at night.   

You were just finishing up his outline when you decided attempt conversation. If he didn’t like it he would just tell you to shut up, after all.

“I was actually pretty surprised when you hired me, most people don’t bother with traditional portraits any more.”

There was awhile of silence, where Kaiba’s eyes flickered towards you before staring off to the other side of the room again. Your were just taking the mental note not to try a conversation again, when-

“It was my brother’s idea. I always look ahead, and cut out traditions and old ways that no longer serve me. But, he made the point that there are some classics still worth something. Besides, improving things like canvas portraits with modern settings was appealing.”

You found yourself smiling and nodding along, “Yeah, I really like the idea of having the city in the background, it’ll make for a really unique piece!” 

After picking your next brush, you peered over to refresh your mental image of the scene, only to find him staring at you again. His expression was rather indecipherable, and though his eyes were almost hooded the rest of his features were as blank as an empty page. Your heart was practically beating in your ears as you stayed transfixed in his gaze, which you swore were actually hued in red now, instead of solid icy blue.

A sound similar to a squeak, and you finally broke the contact to flick your gaze down to the hand resting on the back of the desk chair. His fingers were a sickly white, seeming to have no blood in them as his nails dug into the leather with a grip so strong he might be on the verge of puncturing the fabric.

Feeling that nervous heat again you quickly averted your gaze back to the canvas, even going as far as to shuffle behind it just slightly as though you could hide.

That didn’t help, much like when you were setting up, you could feel his gaze burning into you. Maybe he was offended, upset that you stared back at him, but he had no right to judge considering he was staring first! Seriously what was with this guy?

You weren’t sure how much time passed after that, it felt like an eternity but you were sure it wasn’t much longer than a half hour or so. You only stole glances at him when you absolutely felt like you had to refresh your mental image of the scene before giving another stroke of the brush. You avoided any eye contact even then and managed to skim over his face only once, during which you noted any previous color in his cheeks had vanished completely, but that was beside the point. You were just telling your brain to stop conjuring up theory’s on why he looked so sick and biting your tongue to keep from asking if he was alright when-

“We’re done for the night, you can continue tomorrow.”

If the sudden dismissal wasn’t enough to snap your attention back to him, the heavy breath within the words was. Your eyes snapped up to Kaiba and before you even registered his movement you were jumping from a harsh thud! He had removed his hand from the chair so swiftly that it spun and thudded into the desk with enough force to crack furniture of a lesser quality. 

Now Kaiba was pacing around his desk, gaunt jaw clenched so tight he might very well chip a tooth. Not wanting to argue with someone who apparently had the mood swings of an angst-ridden teen, you planned to start packing up without a word. However, just as he passed the coffee table, Kaiba took in a sharp breath and doubled over so fast he barely caught himself on the glass top.

Empathy won in a heartbeat and before you could reconsider you were by his side saying a frantic, “Are you okay? Mr. Kaiba you look sick, should I call a-?”

The concerned questions died in your throat and so too did a scream when something too red and too luminous to be eyes flashed up at you. The next moment something was wrapping around the prison that held your words and scream. The third moment your back was slammed none too gently into a wall you could have sworn was half a room away and a body colder than any you had felt before was pressing into you.

Eyes wide, body held still with fear, all you could do was take in a few shallow breaths as Kaiba’s mouth hovered over your neck. One heart thundering in your ears, two heartbeats, three-

But nothing happened. 

The hand pressing into your clavicle hadn’t tightened, and the mouth hovering dangerously close had not moved in for the kill (proverbial or otherwise), rather, Kaiba’s body seemed to be as frozen as yours.

Or at least you thought it was. A moment later you finally registered that Kaiba was shaking. Not violently by any means, hell, it was barely notable, but he was definitely shaking, as if he was trying to keep sickly shivers from wracking his body. His other hand moved up to grip your upper arm then, and his fingers were tight but not quite painful as he held you there.

“I shouldn’t have kept our appointment.”

The words were so shocking to your reeling mind that you almost didn’t register them. They were said lowly, in something akin to a growl or rumble.

“I should have told you to get out the moment I-”

Something on the other side of the condo sounded, a ding you had heard when first arriving on the floor, and not a second later footsteps were thundering.

“Seto!”

The youthful voice almost snapped you back to your sense enough to move, maybe even break free of his hold, but in that same moment  you felt something sharp graze the skin of your neck as Kaiba’s face turned to meet the newcomer.

Thankfully your recovered control wasn’t needed, as the moment Kaiba locked sites on the newcomer, he released his hold on you. In a fearful blink as you recovered your balance, you saw Kaiba make his way across the room faster than any human possible could.

That’s when you saw who had intervened; Mokuba Kaiba, the youth of the Kaiba empire. He was looking pale and worried, looking between his brother and you as Seto snatching something out of his hands. 

You caught the sight of something encasing red as Seto tore the package open, but he halted long enough to growl another command, “You need to leave, now.”

Your legs were finally able to move again, when you caught site of something that confirmed the impossible theories running though your head: sharp, pearly fangs were flashing between Seto’s lips.

[queen-scribbles]

Tell us about Vicas lightsaber!

Sure! She doesn't have any particular attachment to her lightsaber, even the one she built herself. (I, on the other hand, refuse to give up the Twisted Fang Dualsaber bc it looks amazing and has a v cool sound effect xD) She's very adaptable to new weapons, picks up the feel of them fairly quickly, so aside from a dash of sentimentality re: the one she made in the Forge on Tython, she's fine moving on to new "tools". I'm pretty sure I didn't even swap out color crystals for the first 4/5 of the Consular story; she just moved on to better lightsabers when she found/earned them.

And then I bought Yuon sent her a fuchsia color crystal just before she went to Voss, and that she won't give up. I, sadly, don't have any of my screenshots from most of her game anymore bc they were on a computer that fried(along with almost all my Silver screenshots and Jaaide with her old hairstyle, RIP), but that pink crystal is very much her aesthetic, even without it having been a gift from her former Master. (My headcanon is that Yuon found it excavating a site on Tython and it had this... calming aura to it that made her think of Vica, so she sent it to her)

That crystal has gone in every lightsaber she's wielded since. She pulls it out of the old one and integrates it to the new one. Her armor changes, the saber hilt changes, but the color stays the same. She uses it consistently for so long that it actually starts reacting to her and she forms almost a bond with this crystal(sort of like the Jedi Exile gets a Special Crystal that vibes with them in KotOR 2). So she can sense where it is with minimal effort and easily find her dualsaber when Lana busts her out in KotFE. (Look, the Consular is bonkers strong in the Force, I'm gonna give my girl a bond to her favorite crystal)

She has gotten rather comfortable with the Twisted Fang dualsaber since she got that, even though I don't have a firm headcanon for where she picked it up yet. Rescued trophy during SoV? Theron thought it looked badass and gave it to her as a wedding present? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (she got it somewhere between Echoes of Oblivion and Secrets of the Enclave, but I don't remember when 😅) I'll pick something eventually.

But, really, it's more about the color crystal than anything with her. That's what she's more attached to than the lightsaber itself. And yes, that is tied to Voss through the SoR Prelude being where she starts grappling and coming to terms with it being okay for her to want things For Her. That as long as she doesn't get obsessively attached, it's alright for her to delight in the pretty pink crystal or flirt with the handsome SIS agent /cough and want to keep it. So aside from the sentimentality of being from Yuon it's a visible reminder of her growth and I just can't make her swap it out even though I have four other colors that would look sweet sitting in her inventory right now.

[sleepingpatterns]

“Should I use InDesign to lay out my books?” - A Passionate Guide

Ok, if you are like me, you recently stumbled upon @armoredsuperheavy​‘s brilliant blog about bookbinding and fanfiction, and now you are excited to throw yourself head-first into bookbinding.

This also means that you are about to invest a fair amount of time into figuring out how exactly to lay out books. What you end up getting comfortable with will most likely be what you end up using long term, so it is worthwhile giving it some thought. The question really comes down to this: who's name will you be cursing for the foreseeable future? Adobe? Or Microsoft?

Full disclosure: I only started using InDesign because I was forced to. I worked as an editor at a newspaper, and that was what we used. The beginning was hell. I won’t sugar coat it, it sucks. In the end it was worth it. Once you figure it out, InDesign’s potential far outstrips Microsoft Word (in my opinion).

That encouragement means very little when you open this treacherous program for the first time and see THIS:

“What?! I will literally give you $100 if you guess what all the buttons on the left are for. How the fuck do I make the margins disappear!?”

So, if using InDesign means figuring out what at least one third of the tools on the left are for, lets talk pros and cons.

Let’s get the cons out of the way.

It is expensive. Adobe is not fucking around. This puppy costs 20 bucks a month (Canadian) to RENT. If this is out of your price range, do you still have options? Yes. Do they range in legality? Also yes. I think I could potentially get in trouble for telling you to find your friendly neighborhood torrenting site and steal this software. I will say, outright, that no one should steal software ever. Got it? I would be very upset if someone were to message me for specifics. As you naturally wish to be law-abiding, there is also the quasi-legal option of repeating the 14-day free trial. My friend works at a professional print studio in Russia, and this is the tactic they use: every 14 days they uninstall all of the software from all of the computers, and reinstall it with a new trial. Every 14 days! At a professional operation! My friend hates working there.

It is not initially intuitive. I’ve covered this, but it bears repeating because it is a serious hurdle. Keep in mind, that with time, InDesign becomes more helpful than other software. Now when I use Word I find myself reaching for keyboard shortcuts automatically, and feeling bereft at the lack of my favorite tools. Nonetheless, expect a time commitment up front learning how to harness this glorious and confusing computer program.

It can run kinda slowly, depending on your computer. Up until two months ago, I had the world’s most precarious laptop. I bought it for $200 in 2015. It once took half an hour to restart. Inexplicably, when it got stressed, it would switch to Spanish. It was literally and figuratively falling apart. And yet, it ran InDesign. Granted, it worked slowly. If I asked it to process too many images at once it would panic (again with the Spanish), but for the most part, it worked. If you have a slow computer and are patient, then InDesign will probably work fine on your computer. If you are not willing to suffer, stick to Word.

You will also need Photoshop (sometimes). Part of what makes InDesign glorious is that it is professional software that is designed specifically to work with print and anything text-heavy. I love that about it. It even manages to do some handy things with images! But, inevitably, you will need to learn some Photoshop to punch up your graphics. I have, admittedly, only learned the bare minimum Photoshop in order to feed my InDesign addiction. It was a pain in the butt. For example, inexplicably, Adobe has not standardized keyboard shortcuts across the suite. As with InDesign, now that I’ve learned the tricks, I adore it. But you should go into this knowing that with Adobe, the fun never ends.

Printing signatures is the WORST. Adobe, please explain to me, in front of God and everyone, why the hell you would make this software specifically for laying out books etc. and not include a method of printing signatures?! I’m livid. This is absolutely where Word wins the day. It is almost worth using Word just to print the signatures so nicely and easily. I’m not kidding. Me—a person who has used InDesign professionally—almost wanted to switch software entirely just because of this. Hands down, InDesign’s biggest goof. Despite this crime against bookbinders everywhere, you have options. You can export your design to a PDF and literally print each signature separately (I am fucking livid) or you can complain enough to your friends that they offer to buy you a lovely program called BookletCreator for your birthday. It costs $20 bucks USD and it was worth every penny. However, Adobe, FOR THE AMOUNT THAT YOU CHARGE FOR YOUR PROGRAM, I SHOULD NOT HAVE TO PURCHASE ANY ADDITIONAL SOFTWARE IN ORDER TO PRINT MY BOOK. Did I mention that I am livid?!

But InDesign must be worth something, right?! Otherwise why would I be writing a long post encouraging people to use it? Let’s talk pros:

The horsepower on this baby will blow your mind. Forget what I just said about printing signatures; imagine using software that was literally made for this. You wanna do a thing? InDesign has got you. Are you a perfectionist? This software was designed by people as pedantic and obsessive as yourself. It gets you. Dream it, google how to do it, and InDesign will deliver. This is really the main reason to use InDesign; it is the professional standard for a reason.

There are so SO many resources available to help you learn. Almost everything I’ve learned about InDesign I learned from Google or YouTube. Honestly, if you have a question, I promise that other people have already asked and answered it. The advantage is that because this software is specifically for laying out books, there is lots of information available specifically about how to do what you want to do. (This may also be true for Word, but I’ll be honest, I only used Word for a book layout once, so I can’t say for certain either way.)

Once you figure it out, InDesign will give you back hours of your life. Things like master page spreads, clipping paths, tint, the eyedropper tool, and the one-hundred-percent adjustable text are just... lifesavers. My experience with Word is limited, so my frustration using it was probably due to my own ineptitude, but honestly, when putting together my thesis, the tears I cried trying to get page numbers to format correctly were some of the most bitter text-related tears I have ever shed. I can take care of the whole operation in InDesign in a matter of minutes. Hours. Of. My. Life. Saved.

This is an actual marketable skill. Ok, bear with me here. I have used InDesign for every single job I have had since I worked at the newspaper. That includes working as a bookkeeper and a kindergarten teacher. Hell, I even made my resume to get those jobs in InDesign. There is no job that I forsee in my future that doesn’t include some form of text-based design. Even when my work has absolutely nothing to do with layout (see: kindergarten teacher) I still found some way to use it. My previous boss was actually so thrilled about my InDesign skills that she had me run a 101 seminar for the other employees. (Did any of them end up using it? I suspect not. Did they look at me strangely for being so enthusiastic about design software? Absolutely.) I’ve even managed to use InDesign to branch out from freelance editing to take on design projects as well. In short: if you learn how to use InDesign, put in on your resume. You will be surprised at how much mileage you get out of it.

With Adobe, the fun never ends. I know I joked about it before, but really, I love seeing what this program has in store for me next. For example, thanks to bookbinding, I discovered that InDesign will do a lot of things that I had previously assumed were the domain of Word, such as spell check. I literally stumbled onto a measuring tool today that I wish existed irl to help me glue my covers together. Part of the beauty of this software being so intricate is that there is always something new you can do. I love learning how to harness a new feature, and then watch my design improve over time. Using this program you really get the feeling that the sky is the limit. Look, just the fact that I’ve now resorted to saccharine platitudes about computer software tells you that InDesign is remarkable. Considering that this program has made me suffer so significantly, I have either seen the face of God, or I have Stockholm syndrome. Take your pick.

TL;DR, at long last:

How complicated would you like to go? Either way, for bookbinding you’ve got to learn to use software in a new way.

Do you just want to get your book laid out reliably with little fuss? Word is for you! Are you interested in delving into the details? Do you have the patience of a saint? Try InDesign!

Both work. Both are good. But you can pry InDesign from my cold dead hands because I adore it.

[guigz1-coldwar]

'Joint Operation': New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out!

"Joint Operation"

"I'm proud to be who I am..."

Chapter Summary: After making plans about their next moves against Perseus in London, Yirina & Park are now awaiting for John Price to arrive in Century House to get it started...

Link of the Picrew here!

To read it on AO3, click here!

Words : +3500

Taglist : @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

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Once that we have agreed on what to do in the parking lot, it was time for us four to get back to our respective offices, now having to not talk of any things that could help the CIA to stop Perseus before us, it was our hard work and we ain't going to let the Americans get the upper hand and stop Perseus we could. Maybe that we're on the same side of the war but here, it's different. It's just going to be us, the MI6...and now, adding to that, the Special Air Service...Captain John Price and his men.

When we came back to our office, the first thing that Park did was to get on the line with Hereford and reach out to Price, asking for his help, and thankfully, we didn't even have to tell any important details to him that he was already agreeing to come with his men but because of some things on his side, he would be only able to come near the end of the afternoon, causing us to get along with it and wait for him and the SAS to arrive in London, Park having to precise that they needed 'the necessary tools for work'.

Now, it was the beginning of a 'normal day' for us: back to our offices and going to work, knowing that now, people were listening to us. We didn't work for the first part of the day until noon as we start to search for every bug that the CIA got, finding some in the lamps, on some drawers, and of course, inside our phones and all of this search by faking a discussion or staying silent, a feeling fo disgust when a hidden bug was found, knowing that we weren't secure in here.

The rest of the day went pretty well: having lunch with Zasha & Portnova in their office and after that, analyzing what's the MI6 got from Peter's apartment and what we saw made our day: Peter had suspicions of the location of where the Perseus members are hiding and it as all pointing out to Canary's Wharf...Lukas Ritter's tracker managing to give us the benefit of the doubt and that's what we were seeing in that detail when the estimated time for Price to arrive was here.

"Should be here soon for me," I said, checking up my watch on my left wrist as I was with Park at her desk, focusing actually on the construction site map of Canary's Wharf. "What do you think about it?" I asked her, who was sitting on her chair with me just behind her.

"I don't know, he said that there were some problems to deal with before getting here," She replied, telling me the same thing she did when she hang out after that phone call.

"At least, we know that he's coming," I muttered, putting my hands on the desk at a few centimeters from the map and the few pen that we were using to write things that we couldn't say loudly.

"Of course," Park alleged as her right hand moves towards one of the pens and a piece of paper to write on it. "How much do you think they could be?" She wrote that pretty quick on that paper, tapping with her pen two times below the sentence.

"Uhm..." I mumbled, grabbing her pen in her hand to write. "Estimated for me? At least 20 to 30," I replied with my writing just right under her sentence. "How many men Price has?" I added to it.

"Enough," Park responded by talking, using a low tone to say it. "Don't worry, we're maybe lower in numbers but the SAS knows how to make the job done," She continued, turning her head towards me. "You know that well," She smiled at me, meaning it.

"Of course," I breathed before I moved softly for a little kiss on her lips but I couldn't know if it was something like that or because I wanted it since our last kiss in the car. "Thanks," I whispered after the kiss, seeing her lips going for a smile, and then, two knocks at our door...

"Who is this?" Park asked, putting herself well on her seat to face the door but the only response we see was the door opening to reveal Portnova with behind them, a man with a dark blue beanie and a large vest on the same color...him, Price.

"Oh, Portnova, good to see you," I exclaimed, happy to see her here and talking a bit loud to make myself heard by the CIA through the bugs.

"Hey, there's John Price from the SAS behind me, he came to see us first," Portnova spoke up, pointing behind her with her left thumb, Price making a sign with his head to say hello, Park doing the same with me to him. "You told us that you wanted to see him so here he is," He said, moving aside to let Price walk in front to enter the room, taking off his beanie.

"Good to see you, Helen," Price grinned at Park, moving next to the chairs in front of her desk and putting his hands on the backrest of one of them.

"Me too, John," She muttered in a low voice, her eyes looking at her right eye with her thumb touching the ring finger.

"Well, I'm leaving you three for now on," Portnova said but then, she moves to my desk to grab a piece of paper & a pen to write something, me going closer to see what she was going to write on it. "Zed is already in the underground parking with Price's men, you'll join us soon," That's what I could see on it after she finished writing, winking at me before she left the office, closing the door behind her.

"So, you know why I ask you to come?" Park started, having her both hands joined together as I got back next to her with the piece of paper in my hands. "Thanks," She said when I gave her the paper, taking a look at quickly.

"Yes, you said that Stone was back and that Perseus was in town," Price replied, staying up behind that chair, maybe thinking that our presence in here will be short. "That you needed support,"

"I do, we do," Park clarified, putting aside the paper before looking back at him. "We both know that we have to work again together for that case and we need you & your men," She clarified, quickly followed by a nod from Price.

"Helen, the SAS is always going to have your back, count on that," He affirmed with a sure tone in his voice, meaning it by a lot as his eyes drifted towards the map that was on the desk, just in front of Park.

"If you want, we can talk about how we can proceed," I told him, scratching the left side of my jaw with my right hand.

"Of course, well..." Price started to say as Park immediately got her hands back on the same pen and another piece of paper to write something else. "My men are waiting for us in the underground parking," He pointed out behind him before looking at the paper Park was showing him.

"CIA listening, tell that you're here to install a temporary HQ in here," Park's writing was looking rather quick but still good looking, showing the note pretty clear to Price

"We're been thinking of installing an HQ in Century House for our ops in town," Price bought it instantly, knowing that she was saying the truth along with me and our gestures. "Maybe that you want to give instructions to them," He advised.

"That's a good idea, John," Park approved of it, her voice sounding like it was going to be better to talk in the parking than talking about here. "Let's go then," She ordered with enthusiasm as she got up from her seat and grab her jacket on its backrest.

I followed the same procedure as her by going back to my desk and grab what I needed: my jacket & my M1911 while Park took with her, the map of the construction site in Canary's Wharf, and of course, her pistol, and then, we were ready to go out of the office, me & Park taking the lead and gesturing to Price that we couldn't talk in here and the hallways before we arrived inside the elevator, the only place with the underground parking that we could talk freely without been heard but instead, we stayed quiet.

Our mouths were kept shut inside the elevator while it was going down to the parking and when we stepped out, the first thing that caught up my eyes was two vans parked near the same car that I & Park used earlier this day with some men around them, talking to each other and hearing the little sound of the elevator's doors opening up caused every looks to be put on us, giving me a sort of little pressure to be observed by those people even if I know that those guys are friendly.

"Finally, we can talk freely, I think," I sighed as we all three start walking towards the car that was having Zasha & Portnova near it, staying on their side alone and away for the moment from Price's men.

"Why the CIA's listening to you?" Price asked by curiosity behind us.

"Because they don't like us, John," Park replied in a clear voice, already taking out the wrapped map from her jacket, making a sign with her at Zasha & Portnova. "For them, we're useful to have what they need...we don't want that, not after what they're doing with us," She added as we arrived near the car, Park unwrapping the map over the car's hood.

"So, this is their hideout?" Zasha demanded as they didn't know about the actual layout of the construction site, we only saw that minutes before Price arrives here.

"Two entrances, multiples covers, and for them, an exit in the Tube," I explained, looking at everything that was put around circles and seemed important by me & Park. "A perfect place to hide for Perseus," I added.

"What about the tracker that you put on Lukas?" Portnova questioned me, crossing her arms.

"Unfortunately, it stopped emitting 30 minutes ago," Park answered at my place to her, not even letting move my lips to speak. "Either they found out about it or they have something blocking it to emit," She theorized as I was in charge of keeping an eye on the tracking device that got off as she said 30 minutes ago.

"A jammer?" Price mumbled, his left hand below his chin and adopting a thinking attitude. "It could be possible but now, they're going to think that's something off," He presumed, me & Park nodding at him about that. "And that's where we all coming,"  He added as he got his hands over the map. "What's your plan, Helen?" He demanded, looking at her.

"To start, I think that we should get two teams striking the entrances," She started, moving her fingers on the map to point to the two entrances she mentioned. "The one at that warehouse should be the first one to go on with discretion," She suggested as she looks at everyone to see our reaction to that. "And then, we launch the attack, stealth isn't and can't be used during a large part of the operation,"

"Two teams, two entrances, it should work perfectly," Price speculated, his eyes looking at the map as if he was analyzing it for a better opinion on it. "The only problem is that we have to react quickly to eliminate that group before they could use the Tube," He said, his fingers over the side of the map that was getting inside a part of the metro.

"I'm sure that we can do it," I proclaimed like that, getting a bit enthusiastic to get Perseus out of London.

"I'm sure too," Zasha joined in with me in my statement. "Your men, sir, are very good elements, we can do it quickly," They complimented, their eyes drifting to look at the group of people in SAS uniforms near the first van that was near us.

"Thank you, Smirnov," Price thanked them, giving them a nod to that compliment. "Now, we should organize to see who is doing what," He declared, crossing his arms as Portnova suddenly decide to go away from us without any words, walking to get leaned on a pole that was almost 10 meters from us.

"Well...Uhm...I think that I want to volunteer to be with the group going first," I said, raising my left hand to that, wondering inside of me why I did this.

"I'm in too," Zasha joined me in raising their hand, making my eyes go wide for a bit. "What about you, Park?" They demanded towards her who was thinking by looking at the map.

"I'll choose, don't worry," She simply replied, not moving her head away from the map. "If you wish, I'll talk about the details with Price alone," She stated.

"As you wish, Park," I told her, making a lovely tap over her left shoulder before we decide along with Zasha to leave Park & Price alone but Zasha quickly left me to join the group they were looking at before as for me, I needed to see Portnova.

She was all alone, leaned on that pole, arms crossed and looking away from everyone. When she first walk away from the group, no one wondering why she left except me, I wanted to know why she was like that...was she thinking about something bad? Perseus was now aware that she was alive following the assassination attempt at the University of London and since, I was sometimes able to see that she wasn't looking well & secure to be around, surely because we were having a big target on our backs...something that needed to be erased...

"Portnova?" I called out with a low voice as I approach her in a slow walk.

"Yes?" She muttered, her eyes looking down at her feet.

"Are you alright?" I demanded, arriving right next to her at least 1 meter from her. "I saw you leaving the group seconds ago and...I'm worried," I clarified myself in case, even joining my hands together, looking like a shy girl.

"I wish I could say yes and I don't want to say no," She responded, turning softly her head at me, her face seeming neutral for me. "I know that I shouldn't be like that but it's hard to believe that...even with every try, Perseus is always here," He sniffed.

"I know, it's hard," I joined her on that thought.

"I want to live a perfect life with Zasha, having them with me while the two of us are working at our respective workplace: me as a teacher, them...I'm not sure if they want to stay a cryptographer but..." She stopped herself for a few seconds to take a deep breath. "Not having a feeling to been watched, listened and threatened by someone," She resumed in a lower voice, sounding neutral for me.

"That's what you told me...three years ago," I exclaimed, crossing my arms as I had flashes in my head showing me my memory with her near the Moskova. "You were scared, I had a memory with you last night...a meeting near the Moskova, away from the city," I explained

"So, you remember that day..." She whispered with a little grin at me. "I'm still scared about this...since that day," She said, her voice sounding broken as she pass her hands below her eyes. "No, I'm not crying here...not at all," She defended herself despite that tears were visible on her face, hiding them with her hands.

"It's okay, you can cry, we all do that one day," I confided with the truth on that subject, everyone can be having a bad moment...crying is normal. "Listen, I'm still sorry about...the three years that passed with....you alone, I'll make sure...we'll make sure that Perseus will be destroyed," I commented, giving my apologies about that situation she faced alone...even if I already told them.

"I know, thank you," She grinned at me

"No...thank you for...being a great friend, Portnova," I thanked her back as she was meaning a lot as a friend for me, along with Zasha, adding a friendly tap over her right shoulder to fully mean it entirely.

"Well, thanks," She whispered, still smiling at me while I did it too as her eyes suddenly got focused behind me. "Seems that Zed is talking to their friends," She stated, making me turn around to look and see Zasha talking with three people: someone with a sort of mohawk haircut...like Freya, a man with a black hood on and a white skull as a decal, and then, a man with a helmet and a black hood too.

"I didn't know that they were friends with them," I confessed as Portnova move away from the pole she was leaned on to join me at my side.

"They told me that after Price showed up," She explained, crossing her arms as we were looking at the group. "I think they are Soap, Ghost &...Roach," She revealed to me, her voice getting a bit sounding confused at the end. "What the hell kind of a name is Roach?" She asked me.

"Don't know but...why don't we join Zasha to talk with them?" I proposed to her and it's without any hesitation from me & her that we decide to join the group, observing that Zasha was the one to talk mainly in it.

"Hi, miss Grigoriev," The mohawk guy spoke first with a Scottish accent as he was sitting on the back of the van, the back doors widely as the inside was looking like an armory...he's Soap. "And...you must be Zasha's wife, I presume?" He demanded, pointing out at Portnova.

"That's correct," Portnova replied with a smile as Soap offered his hand to her.

"John 'Soap' Mactavish, call me simply Soap," He presented himself as he & Portnova shook hands before they withdraw from each other. "Here's our Ghost," He pointed at the man with a black hood and a white skull decal.

"Pleasure to meet you both," The man said, surprising me with the voice he used, feeling it very deeper and...unusual.

"And here's Roach," Soap finished, his hand pointing towards the man with a helmet and the hood, leaned against one of the backdoors of the van.

"Hi, misses..." The man waved at us, sounding rather shy in his voice and we waved back at him.

"They are my friends," Zasha told me, their hands joining together and they were sounding a bit unsure to tell it actually, their gestures looking like a shy person. "We...I met and talk with them during & after our mission in Cuba,"

"A pretty good sniper, they told us that you're the woman that formed them in it," Soap exclaimed, addressing himself towards me.

"The kid has a good heart, same for you as I heard," Ghost added, crossing his arms as he looked at me through his black hood.

"Well, Zasha is my best friend for years...almost 9 years to be honest," I admitted as Zasha was looking at me with a smile, giving me some hope as I was like opening myself to those guys. "I'm doing my best as I can,"

"You...you did good," Roach implored, getting Soap & Ghost eyes on him.

"Of course, that's good, we're doing the same thing with you," Soap told him as he joined his hands together over his legs.

"Everyone," Then, we all heard Price's voice calling us out and getting our attention on him & Park who was standing next to him. "As you could know, we're fighting Perseus again and today, we have a chance to bring them down in London and maybe in England if we can," He started, his hands around his waist.

"Perseus' agents are hiding in a construction site in Canary's Wharf and we think that they could leave tonight, we're striking them today," Park spoke up, making her voice loud & clear for everyone who was now gathered to see them as for us, we didn't move at all from our spot.

"There will be two teams: one led by me & Park while the other will be led by Grigoriev," He announced, making my eyes goes wide at this. "Soap, Ghost, Roach, Griffin & Wallcroft, you'll be with her, the others, with me & Park," He continued as my jaw was dropped discreetly at this but not because I was going to led a SAS team. "Prepare your equipment, we'll be leaving soon," He ordered clearly, causing everyone to split up.

"Park," I called her as I walk towards her. "You...you're not coming in the same team with me?" I demanded, wondering why...just why...

"Don't worry, Yiri," She started with a little smile at me. "It's just for the beginning, the attack will get us back, don't worry about it, and like the SAS say..." She advised me, stopping in her words before pulling me in for a quick kiss on the lips before she looked back at me, a face that wanted to me stay calm and not worry about this...

"Stay frosty!"

[readyplayerhobi]

Let’s Put On A Show

; Camboy!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Smut, fluff

; Word Count: 21.5k

; Warnings: Dom!Hoseok, male masturbation, voyeurism, camming, dirty talk, sub!Hoseok, dom!reader, sex toys, male anal, oral sex (male and female), penetrative sex, handjob, fingering,

; Synopsis: Welcome to HopeWorld! Lay back and enjoy a show with BehindTheScene’s number one dominant camboy, Hope! Are you looking for a Master to make you whine? A Sir to make you beg? Or a Daddy to treat you right? Hope’s got something for everyone...

; A/N: This is the first true ‘smutty’ fic I’ve done in a long time...so please be gentle and love it. It got longer than expected...there’s more fluff than you may expect...I hope you all enjoy and love! Please comment, give feedback, send asks and reblog if you like! It helps to encourage me to write and I’m always interested in your thoughts, questions and headcanons!

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HopeWorld has gone live!

Almost immediately, you’re clicking on the link on your phone while you lay back on the mound of pillows that sit on your bed. Chewing your lip lazily, you wait while the screen goes black before loading, flipping into landscape position and leaving you with the visage of a double bed with dark, ruby red silk covers, and dark wood bed posts rising on all four corners while a pile of pillows rests against the intricately carved headboard.

The title of today’s show is simply ‘Choose Your Pleasure’ and you wriggle slightly against your own soft sheets, thighs clenching as you already imagine the mental and auditory stimulation you’re going to be provided with.

Sure enough, there’s a quiet shuffling noise through the speaker of your phone before a guy steps into view and sits down lightly at the end of the bed. He’s wearing black slacks that leave just enough to the imagination yet still grip his toned thighs deliciously while a white button up shirt strains against his physique as he leans back on his hands, the top two buttons undone and leaving a delicious expanse of golden skin visible, a silver chain with a lock pendant lying against the gap between his collar bones.

There’s pure silence for a moment before he lets out a small huff of laughter, the breath leaving him almost silently before he leans forward again, elbows resting against his knees and giving you a delightful view of his shoulders.

He’s slim, yet with enough muscle to make the definition obvious with his tight yet perfectly acceptable clothing. This close to the camera, you can see the way the deep brown of his eyes reflect the light of his screen while he reads the messages that show on his computer with a slight tilt to his mouth.

You sigh softly as you bring your phone closer to your own eyes, greedily drinking in the sight of his sculpted jawline and the straight slope of his nose that meets two strong, dark brows. Blonde hair that’s almost platinum at the ends sits styled elegantly on his head, a generous helping of forehead revealed while the strands blend into a deep honey blonde before evolving into the dark black of his natural hair colour.

It’s been a while since he dyed his hair, and you wonder idly if he’ll keep the blonde or maybe go a different colour. Last year, he’d spent the whole summer with vivid, scarlet hair before dying it all black again in what had apparently been a fit of boredom.

But his loving and loyal fans had adored the light hair he’d had two years ago and begged him to consider going back, which had led to his drastic change two months ago. You certainly weren’t going to complain; the man looked hot in anything.

The man you were watching, and who was in turn reading the comments that flew past on his screen, was one of the most popular camboy’s on BehindTheScenes; a website that catered to all manner of sexual interests. There were pretty girls who would put on a show and rugged guys who would follow your every order and all manner of other delights to be found.

But unlike some other seedy sites, it was all perfectly legitimate and only verified people where allowed to begin creating shows on the site. That means that they had to be aged 18 and over, along with the viewers. Everyone had to provide valid proof of identity to be allowed on, and you knew that the benefits of being one of the camboys or camgirls were exceptional.

80% of the money they made went to them, with the remaining 20% going to the site in order to keep it going; paying its own staff and keeping the maintenance going. Viewers could simply watch for free, but they were only allowed three free shows a month before they had to pay for at least one show or they could pay a yearly fee of $69 to view as many as they liked.

It worked out better that way, considering each show was $5 to view. There was also an extensive tipping system using coins, which could be bought individually or in packs, video game style. These coins were used to ‘tip’ those making the shows, which often meant that they were incorporated into the shows themselves.

Those who tipped a certain amount could request something or have their message read aloud, some used them as a way to allow users access to a poll that would dictate what the show giver would do. But the coins weren’t cheap. 100 coins was $10, with each hundred costing a further $10 until you reached the 1000 coins. Then it was $5 per hundred.

Before you’d gone onto the site, you would have never thought that camshows would have earnt much, but then you’d watched a few and discovered the almost obscene amounts of coins that viewers would buy and tip in an attempt to be noticed or get their host to do something. It was not unreasonable for the top shows to earn thousands of dollars per show if they were good.

And HopeWorld was very good.

He’d been on the site for 7 years now, so his profile said when you clicked on his username. His real name wasn’t given, just a pseudonym of Hope and the country he was from along with his age, 28. Oh, and his sexuality which was clearly listed as ‘Bisexual’.

His archived shows were also available via his profile, purchasable for 250 coins each or free for the premium members who paid an even higher fee to get even more privileges. There was also a range of photographs available to view for free; from selfies of him smiling sweetly to seductive poses that haunted your dreams.

Some of the cam-stars on BehindTheScene were versatile in what they did, never going for a specific genre. They would have sex with other men and women, or do solo shows to please people. Have their shows in the privacy of their room, or do risqué public shows that upped the ante.

Some of them chose to specialise in what they did, gaining a niche audience who lived for the shows that were put online. Girls who did solo masturbation shows with an array of colourful and unusual dildos, guys who jerked themselves off and submitted to their viewers through the use of coins to tell them what to do.

HopeWorld specialised in solo masturbation shows, only he used domination as his tool of pleasure for his viewers. You hadn’t understood how that could even work through a camshow until you’d seen his for the first time, and then you’d seen why he was so good.

He had a command of his voice and body that meant every subtle gesture, every tiny rise and fall in his voice was perfectly engineered to produce an answering response from his viewers. A slight narrowing of his eyes when one of his viewers became a little bratty or spent obscene amounts of money demanding him to do something let it be known that a punishment would follow.

Hope would get himself off on camera sure, but at his pace. He rarely followed orders from people who spent money to ask him to do stuff and he would be quite cutting and cruel sometimes to his viewers. Not in a way that crossed any lines, but more in a way that showed he would refuse to do what they asked simply because they paid.

It had boggled your mind when you first saw it, wondering why on earth people watched someone who refused to do what they were being paid money to do. Particularly given he encouraged people to pay, and on an entire system that relied on the patronage of viewers.

And yet...he was one of the most popular camboys on the whole site. Viewers went wild for his uncaring persona, for the sheer dominance in his voice when he sneered at the people who begged and pleaded for him to do what they wanted while simultaneously following his every order on the other end of their screen.

When he demanded they play with themselves, they would. When he told them to stop, even if they were at the very edge of their orgasm, they did so. And oh, would they beg him to let them orgasm, to find that sweet release at the end of their fingertips that was entirely controlled by his deep and seductive voice.

You had never considered that someone like him would do well, and yet he had his subscribers and viewers wrapped around him as well as those pretty fingers of his wrapped around his cock.

Yes, Hope was extraordinary and you’d been a loyal follower for years now.

There was something about the dominant persona of HopeWorld, the way he refused to bow to the pressures that buckled so many other cam-host’s over the years. He would take things under advisement sure, changing his shows up enough to keep interest but he had no interest in being at the mercy of his viewers.

And you loved it.

Which meant you were already beyond wet when he let out a low chuckle of amusement, the sound rough and almost grating in his throat as he lets his wet, pink tongue flick across the rich buds of his lips.

“So...how are we all today? I hope you've all been good while I was gone.” His voice is deep, rumbling from his chest with a slight rasp. It's something he obviously puts on because when he forgets himself during shows, it'll go a little higher with a tone more casual. It's still pleasing though and you’d happily listen to him read the phonebook if they still existed.

Unsurprisingly, silence meets him but his beautiful eyes are relaxed into happiness as they scan over the hundreds of comments that fly in the chatroom. A reverberating chuckle rumbles from his chest as he runs a finger along his lips, the corner worked up before he glances at the camera.

“How have I been? Oh...I don't know, just waiting for the next chance I had to see all of you.” Smooth, if a little cheesy. But it's a camshow and these people live for that stuff.

“Would I ever agree to the threesome over with GoldenBoy and ChrisChim? Well, they did ask me personally but I don't know...don't you think I'd be too much for them? And I thought we had a good thing going here? Or are you wanting me to expand?” He hums lightly, musing to himself.

The comments explode and Hope lets out a breath of a laugh as he reads them.

“You think it'd be hot? Wow, there's a lot of you who want to watch me have sex with someone hmm?” This is how his shows always begin, a little bit of teasing talk between him and his viewers while he waits for them to come in. It makes him feel a little more reachable; not just a bunch of pixels on your screen.

Lately, he's been getting more requests to mix up his shows. You'd have thought that he would be annoyed about it all. His speciality is solo, yet everyone seems desperate to watch him fuck someone on screen.

Not only that, but there seems to be a vocal minority that's growing to see him submit. Which is wild, as you've never seen a show with a single hint of that.

But it's what the viewers are increasingly wanting, and the unfortunate fact is that hosts are sometimes beholden to their viewers. He might one day do it if it would please them and increase his views.

His lips purse for a moment as he reads and considers, forming a tiny triangle and you coo softly at the screen. Normally you’re moaning or panting at him, but sometimes he acts cute without realising it and you can see the want to have him on his knees for the camera.

“Wow...so there’s a lot of you huh? Maybe...maybe I’ll think about it in the future. Keep an eye out if you all really want that...but for today I think we all need to get back to business, yes?” He leans back on the bed, revealing the long, slim line of his body and you instantly go hot, a spear of pleasure hitting your centre as you squeeze your thighs in response to the blatantly sexual way he holds himself.

His legs have dropped open, leaving a wide gap of space between them and giving the overwhelming aura of power and domination. It’s a classic move, and yet it works so well as he puts his weight on his hands on the bed, letting the viewers gaze up and down his body.

It works well because he’s showing everything he has, everything that you can look at but not touch. Your fingers ache to reach through the screen and unbutton his shirt, letting the soft material slip from his shoulders to pool around his wrists before they would dart to the waistband of his slacks.

You’d tug at them, letting the waistband shift him forward slightly before undoing them slowly, keeping eye contact with him the whole time until the zip is fully down and his cock presents itself to you through the opening created.

Yes, you’d love to undress him where he sits. Slowly, seductively until he’s trembling with anticipation and gasping with need.

Blinking rapidly, your brow raises at those thoughts and you can suddenly see why everyone wants to see him submit live on camera. He’d be glorious moaning under your fingertips, and your inner muscles convulse on nothing at the very idea of fucking him till he’s a writhing mess.

Lord, the idea of watching that would be hot as fuck.

In reality though, he’s still sat in the same position as he watches his screen, white teeth prevalent as he bites his lip while a brow quirks up. There’s already a slight tent forming in his pants, the tight material constricting what’s beneath and contorting them even further. It’s a basic human reaction, and you so desperately want him to reveal himself already.

"So what do we want today boys and girls?" He brings up one hand and holds three fingers up, the corner of his mouth tilting in a seductive smirk while his brow quirks. "Do we want daddy to make an appearance? Or are you feeling like Sir needs to come out? Or is it a Master kind of session again? Remember, as usual it's 100 coins to vote...500 to give me a specific request that I'll consider."

He’d already set the poll up while everyone had been discussing wanting to see him have sex on camera or submit, and it was running with votes coming in fast. This was how he made his money...people desperate to get their fantasy come to life today and some people desperate enough to spend even more to get a specific request in.

You’d felt sorry for them at first, and a little resentful of him for being manipulative. Until you’d realised that these people voluntarily wanted to part with their money in this way on people like him. And if they didn’t do it with him, then they’d just go to another show and do it there.

At the end of the day, he was the one getting naked and orgasming on camera for everyone else’s pleasure constantly. While he obviously enjoyed the voyeurism aspect of it, it would likely take a lot out of a person to do that. Some people were ostracised by their family, friends and work for doing stuff like this.

The money was a bonus for some camstars, but for others it was a lifeline.

Either way, the amount he always made sometimes made you contemplate whether you’d make a good camgirl or not. But then you’d immediately shy away from the thought. You were far too shy to be a solo camgirl. You’d need someone there to buoy you, give you the confidence that you struggled to gain yourself.

Hope shifts forward once again, rolling his neck and your breath stutters at the arousing sight of the long, elegant sweep of his throat. It’s perfectly smooth with not an inch marred, and you so desperately would love to suck a deep bruise into the sensitive skin there till he’s grunting in your ear.

“I’ll give it a few more minutes and then we’ll get this show started yeah?” He grins, the smile lighting his face up. It makes him look more boyish, yet at the same time the intensity in his eyes tells you that there’s nothing boy about him.

His whole backstory is a complete enigma to his viewers, given how little he says on his profile and the complete lack of information he gives in his shows. Literally the only thing viewers get to know about him is his age and the country he lives in, not his name, nor his normal profession. It seems to simultaneously appeal and frustrate his viewers.

The time he spends reading over comments and making conversations is also spent teasing his ever watchful crowd, a wandering hand roaming along his body slowly in all the areas you so desperately would love to touch.

A slight hitch in his breath gives away his actions and you note the way he’s pressing his palm to the crotch of his pants, lower lip teasingly bitten as those elegant eyes scan over the screen. Smirking, he finally leans back slightly before giving a soft laugh.

“Alright boys, girls and anyone else who’s here to enjoy. Let’s get this show on the road yeah? I’m afraid it’s not going to be a long one. I’ve had a tiring day.” He whispers before shifting on the bed, legs spreading once again while his hand trails down his body slowly.

“Have you all been good for Sir?” The obvious winner of the poll slips off his tongue with ease, and you watch as he slides into the persona just as easily. Each persona is slightly different to the next, and the Sir has always been one that doesn’t waste time.

Apt, given that he’s already stated that he won’t be doing a long show today.

He begins to roll up his sleeves, taking his time as the white material rolls back on itself until both forearms are visible. The skin is smooth and honeyed, the muscles beneath working as he clasps both hands back together to read some more comments.

His set up means the laptop is pretty close to him, but the camera is a little farther away to get the full effect. But he can still read his comments with ease.

“Now...I see lots of people saying that they’ve been very good but how do I know for a fact? Tell me what you’ve done, and for each comment I like...I’ll undo a button for you.” One eyebrow lifts up while he sucks his lower lip into his teeth, eyes dark for the camera.

The temptation to send your own comment in is overwhelming, but you stay away from the chat this time. Instead, you take in every tiny detail that you can see of him on the screen and simply admire the way he teases and plays with his audience.

Each viewer that gives him a satisfactory answer, such as someone getting a positive score on a college test or someone getting a new job, results in a button on his white shirt being loosened until soon enough...he’s got none left.

Instead, you’re graced with the beautiful image of his bare torso and you let out a soft whine to yourself at the sight of it. He’s a pretty lean guy, but the defined abdominal muscles lets you, and everyone else, know that he obviously works out and takes care of himself.

His chest is free of any hair, but there’s a tantalising trail that leads down to the waistband of his black pants and you want to desperately lick along there until you find his happy place. Because it would be his happy place if you got your mouth on him.

Hope knows this is what people want though, and he lets everyone have a few minutes to simply admire him as he slowly runs his hand along his stomach, tutting at a few unruly viewers who demand him to go faster.

“Demands make for sad viewers. Keep it up...and I’ll punish you.” His voice is ridiculously low as he murmurs out the threat. You know he’ll do it too, and it makes you clench your thighs at the rumbling bass that rolls through your speakers.

There’s one persistent viewer that doesn’t seem to be getting the rules, or maybe they’re just doing it on purpose. But either way, the demands for him to take off his pants become insistent to the point his eyes narrow in annoyance.

Slowly, and with his eyes focused on the camera, he begins to button up his shirt once again. Automatically you let out an expletive, annoyed at the viewer, and sure enough the others watching simultaneously beg him not to do it while berating the one causing him to put his foot down.

“Now, now. Don’t be mean everyone. Some people just need to learn the rules right? You get two minutes of nothing from me now. Do it again, and I’ll button up another and you get five of nothing. I said this wasn’t a long show...do you not want anything to happen?” He muses quietly, rubbing at his lower lip.

Sure enough, the chat explodes in begging and pleading. But he holds firm and there’s two whole minutes of nothing but him simply staring at the camera. After that’s up, he lets out a deep sigh before unbuttoning the final button once more.

“Now...are we going to play good?” You’re nodding your head in response, despite the fact he evidently can’t hear you. “Okay. Now...I got some good responses from you all. If you want me to take off these pants...then I need to hear why. Tell Sir why he should do that. What are you going to give him?”

A trick question obviously, because in reality they can give him nothing. But it’s not about that, you can guess that. It’s about giving him the allusion of power over his viewers. About them believing that he’ll do what they want if they ask him nicely enough.

“Oooh...some interesting answers here. But I think I like this one. Simple, but it gets me excited.” He grins, a heart shaped smile that’s so beautiful you can feel your heart swooping already. “I’d give Sir the prettiest moans. Not much to it, but you can’t deny there’s nothing sweeter than hearing a desperate moan sometimes.”

Sure enough, he follows through with his promise and slowly peels off his belt before unbuttoning the black pants. They drop to the floor almost silently and you can practically hear the stunned silence from the audience at the sight of him.

He’s not wearing any underwear, leaving his hard cock to bounce in the air slightly from being released. Hope isn’t hung like some of the guys on the site, nor is he as thick as some of them. But you’d certainly never complain.

Thick enough for his fingers to only just meet when he wraps them around the base, you feel yourself clenching as he gives himself an experimental stroke. It’s long and slow, and the prolonged eye contact he maintains with the camera makes it feel weirdly personal.

But that’s his specialty. Making every viewer feel like they’re the only one he’s entertaining.

“Like what you see?” He asks huskily, licking at his lip as he watches while his hand moves along his length. You’re nodding without even realising it, your own hand sliding down your body until it slips beneath your own clothing and your fingers find the hood of your clit with ease.

Slickness meets your fingers as you spread it over the engorged bundle of nerves, a soft gasp leaving your mouth as you touch yourself in the way that you enjoy most. You’re not even really paying attention to what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way he sits back on the bed and continues to jerk himself in such delightful movements that have him gasping between words.

For a few minutes, you try to only circle your clit in time to his own strokes but you find yourself getting impatient and wanting to reach your ending sooner rather than later. He has far more patience than you have though, and he’s only just started to caress his cock at a faster rate while he purrs out pure filth to his audience.

A few comments are begging him for release already, no doubt riled up to the point of orgasm like you are and you find yourself hoping that he’ll have mercy today and let you all come. You’ve already begrudgingly removed your fingers from yourself twice in an effort to hold out your pleasure for even longer, edging yourself until it’s almost painful to pull away.

“Why should I let you all come? You were all begging me to last longer earlier. Are you wanting to come for yourselves? Are you almost there? All tight and desperate? Fingers aching? Hands clenching? Are you dying to be filled, or fill someone else? Are you imagining me fucking you? My cock driving into you, hips slamming into yours? Are you wet? Lubed up? Would it be loud? Messy? Would you whine for me?” His words come fast in a staccato manner, his own voice tense with strain as his hand works at himself faster.

People comment in droves, confirming his suspicions with some writing rather elaborate scenarios that you’re impressed at. They can’t be working themselves too hard if they can write that much.

Hope must think so too, reading a few with amusement before he lets out a deep groan at the pleasure he’s giving himself.

“I like your answers. I think you’ve been good for me today. So...I’ll be nice. You can cum. Cum for me. And I want you to moan my name while you do. Imaging cumming around my cock, tightening around me until all I can think about is you.” As he does so, your fingers work at yourself even harder and the ball of pleasure that’s ballooned in your stomach expands even more until you finally fall over that precipice.

A long moan leaves you as your hips circle desperately, fingers dancing over your clit to elongate out the intense orgasm until you can’t handle it anymore and you simply lay there, spent. Your legs fall to the side slightly, tingling from the sensation while your hearing goes a little fuzzy for a few seconds.

The phone lies on your chest; Hope’s moans and deep groans escaping from the small speakers and filling the room with lust and pleasure.

Despite the fact that you’ve just brought yourself to orgasm, your pussy tingling delightfully even if you feel horribly empty, you grasp the phone and look at the screen again. It’s just in time to see Hope’s head fall back, the beautiful line of his defined throat taking centre stage as his chest heaves, abdominal muscles prominent as he sucks in desperate breathes.

A final moan leaves him before his thighs clench and his hips jerk up into his hand. Thick, white cum paints his stomach as he orgasms finally, cock twitching in his hand as he works himself through his own orgasm. It’s so hot that you’re almost tempted to let your fingers play with your clit some more, but you feel far too tired and content for that.

Instead you just watch lazily as he finally finishes, his last few ejaculations simply leaking down the shaft of his cock and coating his hand as he squeezes out every last drop. Finally done, he looks back at the camera with a heady gaze before smirking tiredly, reading the comments.

“You all did good today. I’m sorry it was short, and it wasn’t very interesting. I’ll make it up to you next time. I want you all to do some good aftercare okay? Get a drink, take a shower, go to bed if it’s bedtime. Take care of yourself, however you like to. You’ll do that for me right?” His brow rises expectantly, only falling when he nods in satisfaction at the responses he gets.

“Good. Now...I’ll be saying goodbye. You were all wonderful and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Until next time.” And the screen goes black.

-

The silence in your room is deafening once he signs off, leaving you to lay on the bed and regain your breath as you stare up at the white ceiling. White sheets with cute star patterns cover your comforter and you stand up lazily, dropping your phone to the night stand before stretching out any kinks you may have caused from your attempts to gain your own pleasure.

Tugging your shirt off, you deposit it, your leggings and your soaked underwear into the clothing bin before rooting through your underwear drawer. A pair of comfortable boy shorts with a Hogwarts design are picked out carefully before you head into the bathroom, cleaning yourself up and coming back out in only the underwear.

At this point, your boyfriend has made his way into the bedroom and has pulled back the covers, wearing a plain black shirt combined with grey sweatpants. He looks up at you, a brow raised as he looks over your mostly naked body with a smirk, the sight causing your nipples to peak already.

Rolling your eyes at him, you go into the closet and pull out a Star Wars shirt of his, letting it drop around your body and land just below the curve of your ass. Moving over to the bed, you climb in next to him as he sighs heavily, eyes closing.

“That was a good show.” You say quietly, tiredness lacing every word and he lets out a soft laugh. The bed jolts as he shifts onto his side, shuffling closer to you until he has you pressed against his front and his arm wraps around your waist.

“Yeah? You watch it?” Nodding slowly, your nose is pressed to the smooth skin of his collarbone and you inhale his scent deeply. He smells like the peach of his shower gel and the clean scent of his shampoo, an underlying smell that’s entirely him making your body relax and feel at peace.

He presses his own nose into your hair, his lips curving into a smile that you feel against your forehead before he’s pushing them into a kiss against your skin. It’s soft and filled with love and gratitude for you supporting him.

What his viewers don’t know, is that HopeWorld is one Jung Hoseok. Your boyfriend of six years. You’d both started dating in your last year of college, having known each other since the beginning when your mutual friend, Jimin, had introduced you both.

That acquaintance has turned into a warm friendship, filled with underlying admiration which turned into desire and lust over the years. A one night stand after a few drinks had resulted in you both waking up one morning in his bed, wide eyed at the fact your circumstances had changed so abruptly.

You would have been willing to take on the mantle of Hoseok’s girlfriend eagerly at that point, but he’d been slightly reluctant. Not because he didn’t like you, he’d assured you plenty that he was pretty sure that he was in love with you actually, but because of something else.

Something he wasn’t sure you would approve of, or want in a boyfriend.

And that was when he’d introduced you to BehindTheScene, carefully explaining what he did and the fact that it was not only helpful to his funds but that he actually enjoyed it. His love for you had overridden it though, and after showing you what he did he’d given you the option of asking him to stop.

He would’ve done it too. Put his camboy career out to pasture at your request, choosing you over his love of performing for a willing crowd.

You’d gone home with thoughts whirring in your head, an instinctual part of you influenced by society telling you that you were disgusted with the idea. But an overwhelming part of you was curious.

He’d told you as you left, decision unmade, that he would be doing a show tonight and you could watch if you’d wanted. Carefully, shyly, you’d made an account and clicked on his name when he’d gone live.

What you’d seen had you embarrassed at first, cheeks heating but your body heated even further with something more. Something primal that told you that you wanted this man more than you had before.

You’d gone to his the next morning and told him that he could keep doing the shows, as long as he never did a sex show with someone else. Solo shows were fine, a fantasy that you could indulge in as you listened to his words and imagined him fucking you with each luxurious and rich word that dripped from his mouth.

But shows with other people? No way. That was not acceptable.

He’d accepted your terms eagerly, happily. The happiness in his face at not having to give up something he so obviously enjoyed and loved had made you realise that you’d made the right decision regarding this. You may not have understood it fully, but you understood his happiness.

The few friends of yours that had found out about his shows over the years had been confused as to why you were so accepting of them. How could you let your boyfriend jerk himself off on camera for the pleasures of thousands of people? How could you let him say those kinds of things to faceless people, the kinds of things he should only whisper to you in the heat of the moment?

Every time though, you’d simply said that it was what he wanted. It didn’t impact on your life, because he wasn’t doing anything physically with anyone else. He wasn’t messaging other girls or guys, he wasn’t sleeping with them or any of that kind of stuff. He was sat in a room in your house, getting himself off to a camera. There just happened to be people watching.

You would rather he do that openly with you than feel the need to do something secret, feeling pressured or unhappy. Hoseok’s camshows made him happy in a way you couldn’t, providing him with confidence and satisfaction that benefited you greatly. It didn’t make your sex life bad, if anything your sex life was phenomenal.

Hoseok would often get so turned on during his shows, the thoughts running through his mind about things he’d like to do to you, that by the time his show had finished, he’d be hard again and coming to you for seconds. You were the one who got to experience all the things he whispered to his viewers, you were the one who got to feel him inside you as he chased his orgasm, skin soaked with sweat while whines left his throat as he pushed through the oversensitivity.

Not only that, you enjoyed watching his shows too. And he knew that you watched them sometimes, providing an extra turn on for him. He’d told you once that he imagined you were watching them everytime, and that he would say things specifically with the aim of getting you off or turning you on.

If you orgasmed, it was a bonus for him.

And besides all of this, Hoseok’s camshows brought in a ridiculous amount of money. His normal dayjob was as a freelance web and graphic designer, often going to his friends workplaces to work but also spending a large amount of time in his home office.

It was reasonably well paid work, but it didn’t matter at all. He brought in so much money from his shows over the years that he’d been able to contribute towards your house easily with a huge savings account in turn. He had no student debt, he’d bought his car outright and the money he’d put towards the house had meant the mortgage was much smaller than it would have been.

Quite frankly, Hoseok was loaded from careful saving and even more careful planning with his shows. Your salary was nothing in comparison, a meagre amount from your generic office job that was used to pay half of the bills.

But the most important thing to you, was that he finished his shows and came to you with his bright smile and a happy, relaxed demeanor. Just as he supported you with your gaming habits, even if he had no idea what the hell you rambled on about, you supported him with his.

It just meant his ended up with his dick in his hand and cum everywhere.

“Your viewers seem to be becoming more insistent about a sex show.” You muse quietly in his arms, taking solace in the feel of him in the quietness of the room. Six years together, five of them physically living together, had produced a relationship that was solid in its silence, relaxed in its love.

Hoseok lets out a hum of contemplation, shifting slightly to push a knee between your own legs before pushing his face into the pillow more. “Hmm, I know. I don’t really know how to go about it because I obviously can’t do it. But if they keep getting insistent, then there’s a chance they’ll leave if they don’t get what they want.”

He sighs heavily at this, his chest expanding and deflating against your own. Bringing a hand up, you rub at his chest reassuringly, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone in a comforting move.

“You don’t have to do what they want, you know that. It’s your show, not theirs. And you’ve been there a while now. You’ve got loyal viewers who won’t abandon you.” Hoseok sighs in response, not saying anything and you know that it’s bothering him.

The comments have become more frequent lately, his viewer base becoming more frustrated. It didn’t help when Jungkook and Jimin, the little shits, kept offering to have him on one of their shows or a threesome if he wanted it.

The two had begun doing their own shows after finding out Hoseok did it, fascinated with a whole world they hadn’t known about. They were even more popular than Hoseok, with their innocent faces and dirty words.

Both did solo shows, but they also had sex shows with each other that appealed to a wide range of people. Taehyung, Jungkook’s boyfriend, was apparently okay with the whole thing and you were more than a little mind boggled at that. Which made you feel hypocritical, because obviously some people’s relationships were just like that.

If Taehyung was okay with his boyfriend having sex with his best friend live on camera, then that was his prerogative. But the very idea of Hoseok doing that made you intensely unhappy.

Unsurprisingly, Hoseok had turned down every invitation they’d given him. They’d promised not to do it anymore after they’d offered again on their show last week, the invitation casually spoken as they’d read the comments once they’d finished, skin glowing with sweat.

Hoseok had got angry at them, shouting at them for once and terrifying everyone. He didn’t get angry. He didn’t even get annoyed half the time. But it had set him off, everything just merging together at the wrong moment until he’d blown up on them both.

His show hadn’t gone well that day as his viewers had constantly been asking about the invitation, leading to him being a little more intense and biting than usual. It had made for a wonderful show watching him, as he’d held off his orgasm longer and longer through edging as a punishment for all the questions and his viewers had to suffer for longer too.

He had a whole game with them at this point, where they would push themselves to orgasm only when he did. It meant that he would edge them for a whole hour sometimes, his own cock leaking profusely by the end, his tip red and angry from the wait.

That day, he’d gotten so pissed off that he’d ended the show abruptly. His orgasm had come in a flood, a moan escaping his mouth as his head fell back and he came far earlier than he would’ve. He’d only been going for fifteen minutes, and his viewers had been shocked by the suddenness.

“I wish they wouldn’t. How do I tell them ‘oh hey, I don’t do sex shows because I have a girlfriend that I love very much and I have zero interest in ruining that just for you all to get off’?” He queried, tiredness in him. You wondered if he was getting tired of this whole thing by now, his viewers becoming more unruly as time passed.

Love blossomed in your stomach at his words though, appreciating his steadfast refusal to give in to them because it would mean cheating on you. A thought you’d had while watching him earlier appears back in your mind and you muse on it quietly.

It’s something you’d thought about more and more recently, and you wondered what his thoughts on it would be. Finally, you decide to just put it out there in the open and see what his thoughts actually are. You could have got him completely wrong.

“What about if you do a sex show?” The words are quiet, yet in the silence of the room they’re astoundingly loud. Hoseok doesn’t do anything for a moment before pulling back, looking at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“What? What do you mean? I’m not cheating on you! I don’t want to have sex with someone else.” His protest is outspoken, genuine panic and unhappiness in his voice as his eyes scan you over.

It makes you feel good, bizarrely, at the way he protests against the idea of having sex with someone else. Combined with his sincere emotions at it, you smile and shift your head to press your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

He kisses back automatically, but when you pull away, you spot the way his lips turn down. The idea of that is genuinely upsetting to him, and you frown as your hand strokes along his side gently.

“I don’t mean have sex with someone else.” The words are out now, and he takes a moment for them to process before his eyes widen once more. Only now they’re in a different kind of shock, a hint of interest in them letting you know that maybe he’ll agree.

“What? Wait...what? You? You’d do a show with me? But I thought you didn’t want to do anything like that?” The words fall from his lips quickly, but you feel the way his fingers tighten around you.

No doubt there are images running through his mind right now; you on top of him, riding him to completion. Him kneeling before you, thrusting into your pussy with confident, hard strokes that have you whimpering and quivering before him till he has you crying out his name. All the while, a camera records every movement, every sound from you both and sends it out to thousands of viewers worldwide.

Your breath hitches at that thought, hips squirming against the mattress and his eyebrow rises slowly as your thigh squeeze around his own involuntarily. Slowly, an incredulous smile spreads over his face as he looks at you with intrigue.

“Holy shit. You’re turned on at the thought of that huh? Would you really be okay with that? I mean...you’ve never shown interest in it before?” He’s certainly interested though, and you let out a huff of laughter at the sudden semi he’s sporting against your stomach. 28 years old and yet the refractory time of a teenager on occasion.

“Well...I’m so used to seeing you do it now. And I know how much you enjoy it. I don’t know, the idea of it is...attractive I guess? Just...having you and knowing that there are thousands of people watching who would die to be in my place.” Hoseok laughs at that, pushing slightly until he’s rolling on top of you and your back hits the bed.

He kisses along your neck slowly, sweet kisses that speak of love and trust even as he slowly grinds his hips into yours. “You already have me. Many times. In many ways. In ways they’ve never seen.”

“That’s another thing. I think I’d want you to submit to me.” Hoseok pauses at that, pulling back once more to stare at you with a carefully blank face. His lips are wet from the assault he’d begun on your neck, and you reach up to trace along his lower lip slowly before pressing down on it until he opens his mouth for you.

Slipping your finger inside, you bite your own lip at the feel of his heated, wet tongue as you play with him before stroking along his cheek, letting his own saliva cause a trail that shines along his golden skin in the soft light of the lamp.

“You want me to submit to you?” His words are careful, slow and full of consideration as his eyes narrow slightly, looking over every micro-expression on your face. A coy look takes over your own as you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers trailing lovingly while you move your legs.

There’s a moment for realisation in his eyes before you’re pushing hard at him, causing him to rock backwards and end up on his own back. He lets you obviously; something you’d long ago learnt was that you can’t move him unless he wants to move. But he’s too intrigued by this idea to start any arguments right now, and instead his hands move to rest against your hips.

“Yeah. You’re used to it. And I’ve seen all the comments. People want to see what the mighty HopeWorld would look like on his knees. Who better to do that than your own girlfriend? You trust me, you know that I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you and you wouldn’t sleep with anyone else on camera.” Fingers get brought down on your hand as you reason with him, the slightest rocking of your hips causing your core to brush against his hard on.

Each touch has his hands twitching while his breath hitches, but his eyes remain focused solely on you. HopeWorld is a master of seduction, a dominating persona that doesn’t take any crap from anyone.

Jung Hoseok, on the other hand, is a switch who leans more to the dominant side. The two of you usually just have normal, pretty vanilla sex but you both enjoy engaging in the kinkier aspects every now and again. And while Hoseok enjoys dominating you, he also likes being dominated in turn on occasion.

Which is probably why his pupils expand in lust at the thought of you making him submit on camera, allowing himself to be vulnerable in the capable hands of the person he trusts most.

Running your hands down his clothed chest slowly, you reach his waistband and run your fingers along the inside slowly. He swallows thickly, tongue wetting his lips as he lets out a pant before his eyes eyes glance down to where your hands are.

“Really? You’d really want that?”

Smiling, you lean down and kiss him deeply, tongues exploring each other before pulling away and gripping his blonde hair tightly at the dark roots, keeping his head firmly against the pillow as he tries to follow your mouth. Grinning, you nod.

“I mean...we need to work stuff out obviously. And we need to check that your audience actually wants that. But...it gets me hot thinking about it. It’s obviously getting you horny.” You whisper against his lips, grinding your hips harder against his erect cock and causing him to whimper gently. Your fresh underwear is soaked through again, but you don’t care as you enjoy the relief the friction against him gives you.

“Okay. Okay, we’ll think about it further later and all that. Please fuck me.” He gasps out, eyes clenched closed while his jaw tenses, revealing the delightful line of his throat and his sculpted jawline.

Smiling, you move down to suck an open kiss into his throat harshly, marring his skin just how you’d wanted to while watching his show while letting out an approving noise. “With pleasure.”

-

A few weeks pass by since your suggestion to him, the time creeping past in its usual ways. Your own job was not exactly the most mentally stimulating, but you were steadily working your way up the career ladder with a clear goal in sight. It may not be amazing, but it was providing you with the experience you needed for what you really wanted to do.

Hoseok had been busy with an influx of projects, spending a lot of his waking time glued to his laptop and computer screen as he designed graphics for companies and created beautiful websites for others. His speciality tended to reside mostly in working with smaller companies, tending to their every needs and providing a lot of after completion support that involved tinkering with their sites if necessary.

While he loved what he did, you knew that it was tiring for him. The last two weeks had involved you having to practically pull him away from his computer in order to get him to eat and sleep. Needless to say, his shows had unfortunately taken a backseat and he’d had to put a notice out on his channel that they may be sporadic for the next month or so.

Which was you’d taken the day off today and begged him to take a day off too. You knew that his work didn’t run like yours did, but the dark circles under his eyes and his increasingly paler skin made worry run rampant in you. He was running himself into the ground in his attempt to get everything finished within his deadlines and you wished desperately that he would take your advice and hire Jungkook as an assistant.

Of course, he would point out that he couldn’t afford an assistant but you were sure he could work something out. There was too much work for one person, and you knew he’d always harboured a hope of creating his own creative agency that specialised in web based design.

But Hoseok was stubborn, and he often had to be run to the point of collapse before accepting change or something new. And while you didn’t appreciate his method of coping with things, you knew that you had to make everything else in his life as comfortable as you could.

He did it for you after all. When you had your nervous breakdown in your old job from too much stress and anxiety, Hoseok had been there for you. He’d been the one shouldering your pain and tears, rubbing your back and kissing your head. Being a pillar of strength for you. So of course, you did the same back.

And you knew that Hoseok knew what you were doing today. He wouldn’t have agreed to it if he didn’t, and you were happy that he was letting you coddle him today. It was time to just be you and him, no jobs or work involved.

As such, you were currently driving to the coast for what you were hoping was going to be a day of fun for the two of you. The skies were blue and the breeze was warm, giving you a good feeling for what the beach was going to be like.

Looking over at Hoseok, you smile softly as you note him sleeping with his head against the window. How he’s managing that when you have no doubt his head is vibrating furiously against the glass, you don’t know. But then again, you do know. He’s just been that tired.

He sleeps the whole way there and by the time you park up, facing the crystal blue sea, you can even hear the soft snores that escape him. Hoseok isn’t normally someone who snores, but you guess the position he’s in is making it more obvious.

Pulling the keys out of the ignition, you shift over to look at him. His newly dyed dark hair gleams in the light that makes its way through the window, his skin a shade paler than it normally is. He hasn’t spent a whole lot of time outside, and you desperately hope that it makes him a little happier and stress free.

A white t-shirt sits on his torso, slightly baggy while denim shorts let his toned legs be seen to the world. Which is a good thing, because he has damn good looking legs. He shifts slightly in his sleep, arms crossed over and shoulders hunching a little closer while his tongue licks at his lips, a quiet murmur leaving him and you laugh lightly.

Reaching over, you stroke through his hair repeatedly and enjoy the softness of it against your fingers. Hoseok likes having his hair played with and it’s always one of the quickest ways to relax him and get him to sleep. It’s also one of the best ways to wake him gently, bizarrely.

Sure enough, a quiet rumbling from his chest lets you know that he’s waking up before he’s blinking slowly, squinting in the light. Yawning loudly, he stretches out as far as he can in the car seat before looking at you quietly, lips pouted ever so slightly.

His face is swollen with sleep, eyes puffy and cheeks rounded. Everyone told you that as time passed, the excitement of your relationship with him would disappear and you’d just be left a quiet and serene love.

They lied, because as you watch your sleepy boyfriend come back to consciousness properly, you feel a fizz of excitement and happiness bubble in your stomach. Six years together, and he still makes you feel young.

“Are we here?” He asks, voice crackling before he coughs to clear his throat. Laughing lightly, you open your door and get out, dipping back down to look at him with a brow raised.

“I hope so. Otherwise I’ve found a really large expanse of previously unseen water.” You tease, closing the door before pulling out the blanket and food you’d prepared this morning. Hoseok grumbles quietly as he gets out of the car too, standing with his arms resting against the warm roof.

“Ha ha, funny. I see why I started dating you now, a real comedian.” He says, reaching into the glove box to pull out a pair of sunglasses and sliding them on. Walking around to the front of the car, he takes the food and bag from you before clasping your hand in his own, fingers twining together.

“You’re always so grumpy when you wake up, you know that?” Hoseok lets out a grunt before quickly leaning down and kissing your lips, pulling away before you can do anything. A noise of protest leaves your mouth as you reach the sandy shoreline, kicking your shoes off while Hoseok just strides out onto the hot sand, tugging you along.

“At least use some chewing gum after you’ve slept for an hour! I don’t want to taste sleep breath.” Looking up and down the beach, Hoseok decides the spot you’re at is perfect and lets go of your hand to lay the blanket out.

It’s only once he’s knelt down on the soft material, kicking his own shoes off that he looks back up at you with a brow raised above his shades. “You never mind when I kiss you in the morning before we’re about to fuck.”

“Hoseok!” You whisper shout, looking around in embarrassment even though there’s no one near you. He chuckles and pulls you down with him, wrapping an arm around your waist before kissing your cheek sweetly.

“What? There’s no one here and you know I don’t mind an audience.” Leaning away from him, you scan over his face and feel a small sense of relief run through you as you can already see the stress and strain practically vanishing from his face.

“I thought I said we weren’t talking about work today?” You ask, reaching into the bag and pulling out some sandwiches you’d made. Handing him the ham, cheese, bacon and salad that you’d prepared especially for him, the two of you eat in silence for a moment as you simply enjoy the gentle, cool breeze rolling off the ocean and the sound of the waves crashing on the white beach.

“That’s not work. You know that.” He says quietly, playing with the crust of his sandwich. From the concentrated look on his face, you’re pretty sure he has something on his mind and you wonder what it is.

Reaching out, you run your thumb along his cheek gently and smile when he closes his eyes and leans into your touch, his brows creasing together slightly. “Hey...what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, just enjoying the feel of your hand on his face and you don’t feel the need to pressure him. You know Hoseok will tell you when he’s ready, and you’ll be here when he is.

Thankfully though, it doesn’t take too long for him to open up again. It had been a struggle to get him to be open with you in the first few years of your relationship. You’d joked that the US Federal Reserve had a vault that was weaker than Hoseok, because he just didn’t let people into the deepest areas of him.

Until he’d finally trusted you enough to crack open his walls and let you slip inside.

“You know that you said you’d do a show with me?” His voice is quiet, deeper than it usually is due to his lower tone. You actually feel a little unnerved, frowning slightly as you acknowledge his question quietly.

Hoseok tears the crust into tiny pieces before swallowing and letting the handful fall onto the blue patterned blanket. “I wanna do it. I’ve already done polls and...people want it. So...I want to do it if you’re comfortable with it.”

“If you’re okay with me being on your show then...yeah. I mean...I want a mask because I don’t want my face seen and I don’t know if I want to be naked because I don’t know if I can handle those negative remarks but...yeah. It’ll be an experience.” You laugh softly, pressing yourself into his side and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Hey! You’re beautiful, there’s nothing wrong with your body and everyone should feel privileged to see it.” The defense in his voice for you has you smiling brightly, pushing at him until he rocks to the side. His arm lifts and pulls you into him closer, wrapping it around your shoulders.

“You’re still tense though. So what else are you thinking?”

He lets out a soft breathy laugh, head falling forward. “Can’t hide anything huh? I think...I want that to be my last show. Go out with a bang.”

His words fall into silence, shocked from your side and waiting in anticipation on his. Pulling away from him, you scan over his face with wide and shocked eyes. Hoseok just watches you back quietly, his sunglasses pushed up and keeping his hair away from his face. He looks slightly unsure of himself, like he doesn’t know if he’s said the right thing.

“Really? You...want to quit that?” He chews on his lip for a little bit before nodding, taking your hand and playing with your fingers silently.

“Yeah. I...yeah I do. I’ve enjoyed it over the years, and it makes me feel good but...I think it’s time. I’ve done it for seven years and I have no reason to keep doing it anymore. I’ve saved plenty of money from it and I just feel like this is the right time to end it all.” You’re not sure what to think, as this sounds like it’s come from nowhere and yet he sounds like he’s thought it through.

“But why? You love doing it. It’s not because of me or anything right? You know that I’m not bothered about it. And your fans will stay with you, even if you have a sex show.” He smiles endearingly at you, moving forward till he’s kissing you. It’s short and sweet, pulling away before you can even do anything more.

“I know that. I know all that. But...I want to quit. For me. I started doing it as a way to earn some money and gain some confidence. I have that confidence now and I have more than enough money. You keep saying that I should hire Jungkook as an assistant and...you’re right. I have too much work...which is why I’m going to finally do it. Start the company. I can’t do that and still be a camboy.” It all sounds logical to you, and you can see now why he’s been reducing the number of shows he’s been doing over the last few months.

Slowly pulling away from people so they’re less shocked when he leaves finally.

“You’re going to do it then? Finally start the Jung Company?” You’re grinning brightly at him, lips pulled in a smile so wide in dual excitement and pride for him. His degree had been a dual business management and web design course, so he hopefully had everything he needed.

“Well first of all, it’s not the Jung Company. Hope Design, or something like that. I dunno, marketing is not my strongest area. Despite it technically being my area,” He contradicts himself, frowning slightly as it registers before he nods. “Anyway. Yeah. I’m gonna do it. Web and graphic design...full time. Take on more clients, make it a full time job. Hire people when necessary. It means I get to do what I always wanted...and I get to spend more time with you. And you have me to yourself.”

“Hey, I was never bothered about that.” You say, resting your hand on his stomach as you kiss his cheek. He smiles and kisses you again, a little longer than before.

“I know. But that’s another thing. I want to spend more time with you. I want to...be more with you and I don’t feel comfortable doing sex shows with what I want. If...you agree with me then I don’t think it would be fair of me to take time out to do them, nor would I feel comfortable.” You’re frowning now, wondering what he’s on about here. You’ve always made it clear that he was doing them before he started dating you, and you’d given him implicit permission to continue.

Taking in your confused face, he lets out a quiet laugh and runs a hand over his own. A quiet groan leaves him. “Ah Hoseok, you’re fucking this up.”

Turning, he lets go of your hand and reaches into his pocket before pulling out a small box. Almost immediately your eyes widen as he hands it to you with a tentative smile, hands shaking the whole time.

“Hoseok...is this…” Your voice trails off as you open it and see the beautiful ring inside. It’s silver, probably platinum, and has one beautiful diamond in the centre with two smaller pink diamonds on either side and two even smaller, clear diamonds on either side of those. For an engagement ring, it is neither ostentatious nor simple and you love it.

Almost immediately you’re looking at him through watery eyes, throat closing in on itself as he smiles through his obvious nerves. “Will you marry me?”

You can’t even get the words out a you nod repeatedly, tears slipping down your cheeks as he lets out a loud laugh before slipping the ring onto your finger. Almost immediately, you’re engulfed in his arms as he hugs you so tightly, pressing his face into your neck as you both rock from side to side.

“That’s the other reason I want to quit. Because I swore to myself that I’d stop when I got married. I want to marry you, and then I want to have babies with you and all that good stuff. And when I imagine that life, I don’t see those shows in it. That’s our life, not anyone else’s.” You sniff almost pathetically as you look down at the ring before looking back at him. He looks sincere, his eyes filled with love for you and you swallow thickly.

“You know I wouldn’t stop you doing it if you still wanted to. You know that right?” You ask quietly, imploring him to know that you really would be okay with it. For now at least, but you understand where he’s coming from.

“I know. I know you’d support almost any decision I made. But this is what I want. It always had to end at some time. So I want to do one last show where I show the world you for the first and last time, before stopping it. And then I want to make a company we can be proud of, and a family that we can love. I’m tired of jacking off on camera babe. Call me old at 28 but, I want the only person to see me like be you. So are you okay with that? Marrying me? Having sex with me on camera once?” He wiggles his brows at that and you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck before kissing him deeply.

When you pull away, you’re both breathing a little quicker and heavier than before but it doesn’t stop you from kissing the tip of his nose. “I was already willing to have sex with you on camera. Marrying you is just the icing on the cake.”

He smirks at that. “You can have your cake and eat it. Though not right now, because right now I want to throw you in the sea.”

And with that, he heaves you both up before running down the beach with you in his arms, ignoring the ear-splitting shrieks that come from you and he deposits you both into the salty ocean.

-

It’s a week later that Hoseok finally decides to end it, announcing via his Twitter that the show he’ll be performing tonight will be his last ever. Understandably, there are many of his fans who are angry and shocked that he’s ending his camming career, but there’s plenty who give him support and encouragement.

He’d announced it via an open letter to all his fans and loyal viewers, one that he’d written carefully over the week before decreeing it perfect and deciding that it was the perfect way to end it. There was no explicit reasoning for his decision, only that his personal life had become so important to him that he didn’t feel comfortable carrying on with his camshow persona any longer.

And so HopeWorld would be officially closing tonight. His final show would not be saved, and all his previous shows would be deleted along with his profile. Only those who had bought and downloaded them would be able to continue enjoying them.

Hoseok had decided that he was done with the camshow world, and that meant he didn’t want his material out there unless it had already been downloaded. A clean slate for him, and for you too.

Despite how accepting you had been of his request to join him on his last show, perhaps understandably you’d ended up with some pre-show jitters. Whereas Hoseok had gained in confidence throughout his camshow career, the idea of putting your body on show was suddenly nerve wracking.

There were different expectations placed on women, and you’d slowly gotten to the point that you were half of a mind to back out. Which was why Hoseok had paused in his preparations for the stream to sit you down on the bed and console you.

He was dressed to impress as usual, black jeans that clung to his legs and ensured nothing stayed hidden while he had a white button up shirt on. Hoseok liked those as it meant he got to tease the viewers for longer unbuttoning it all, but you just liked it because it emphasised everything hot about him.

From his slim shoulders to his firm waist, his golden skin to the delightful sculpted hollows of his collarbones. Honestly, it’s a wonder you’ve never come in here and jumped him halfway through a show before.

But today you’d had some input on his wardrobe, particularly given that it was going to be your show. As such, he had a leather collar wrapped around his neck that contrasted beautifully against the movements of his throat. He’d worn them on occasion before on his shows, just to entice people with the possibility of something they weren’t getting.

This time though, you were actually going to use it and just the sight of it on your delightfully attractive fiancé was enough to make you shiver. There was always something hot about seeing him submit to you, and despite your misgivings you were excited to let his viewers see that for their final view.

Despite your eagerness for that, and also for him to rearrange your guts live on camera, the crippling insecurities that came with stuff like this were dampening your mood. And Hoseok had noticed, given how carefully he paid attention to you.

“Are you okay? You don’t have to do this, it’s up to you. You know that right? I’d never make you do anything that you don’t want to.” His voice is low and calming, expression concerned while the back of his knuckles runs along your arm in slow movements. It’s not a lot, but it’s surprising how comforting it feels to you.

For a second, you go to lie to him before deciding to be honest and shrugging slightly. “What if they don’t like me? Or like...think I’m fat or that I look funny down…” The words trail off in your embarrassment and worry.

“Woah woah, okay firstly. I don’t care if they don’t like you, and neither should you because they’re never going to see you again after this one show. You’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, you know that right? And I’m not saying that just because I’m marrying you, you really are. Secondly, you’re not fat and you look perfectly fine. I swear. Please don’t worry about things like this because if you start now, then it’ll fester and get worse in your head. You are perfect as you are. If you think you can’t do this then just let me know and we don’t, I don’t mind. I’d rather not have you in the show than have you end up with crippling insecurities, okay?” Hoseok states insistently, moving his arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close to him.

You let him practically baby you for a few minutes, letting him soothe over any of your worries because it feels good to have him reassure you. A little selfish perhaps, but you were about to get naked on a livestream with him. You needed the assurance from him that all was going to be well, even if he couldn’t actually promise that.

Hoseok had your implicit trust and love, so you had to trust and love that he would keep an eye on things.

“Do you still want to?” He asks quietly, pressing his lips to your temple and letting them rest there for a moment, warm breath tickling the finer hairs along your skin. It’s intimate and comforting, the scent of him so close and his presence so calming. There’s little wonder you fell for him all those years ago, his sweet smile drawing you in and everything else just solidifying him as the perfect man for you.

A myriad of emotions runs through you though as you think through his words, your hands self-consciously coming to cover up the bits of you that you always feel a bit more wobbly than they should be. The areas that make you feel a little anxious when you think of thousands of people getting to see them in HD glory.

Hoseok’s hands move down to where yours are, and it’s only when he slips his underneath your own to stroke at the soft, vulnerable skin there that you realise you’d been clawing at it. Subconsciously unhappy.

“I don’t want you to do this if it’s going to be negative on your health. I love you, I love everything about you but I don’t want you to push yourself to do something for me if you’re not happy.” His words are quiet against your skin, murmured almost but you feel them to your very core as his fingers gently move against the parts of you that you’ve struggled with, with not an ounce of disgust on his face or in his words.

“I want to. I want to still do this. I just...it’s scary.” The words a little more soft than you’d have liked them to be, almost whimpered out like a child. It makes Hoseok chuckle quietly, not laughing at you but the way you’d said it, before he wraps his arms around you completely.

“I know, I still get a little nervous. But you’ll be great. We’ve prepped for everything, and I am beyond excited to introduce everyone to the woman who owns my body, heart and soul.” He says seriously, squishing you to him.

You can’t help but snort at his words. “You can keep that cheesiness though, that’s solely yours. And you’re just excited to get laid, you’re already hard.”

The thick erection currently pressed to your stomach means Hoseok can’t argue back, so instead he just pushes it further against you. A quiet gasped moan leaves his mouth as he does so, the friction from the action pleasurable against his sensitive member.

You’d both prepared earlier for the show to make sure it was seamless and easy. Which meant that you were both in your outfits, a matching dark green and black lace lingerie set for you with suspenders holding up some delightfully sexy stockings that had made Hoseok whimper to himself when he’d seen the whole outfit.

Green was his favourite colour after all.

It had also extended to prepping each other sexually, with enough foreplay to get him raring to go while you were pretty positive he could slide straight in if he wanted to. The toy that you were going to be using, along with a bottle of lube, were hidden out of sight so as not to give anything away to the intrigued audience.

Everything was ready to go...all Hoseok had to do was start filming.

Pushing him down till he’s sitting back on the bed, you bite your lip and run your fingers through his hair slowly before rearranging back into the style he’d managed to get it into earlier on. Your new fiancé was incredibly attractive and you knew that you’d really won the life lottery with him.

“Okay...let’s do this. Bring out Hope.” Hoseok doesn’t say anything for a moment, just watching you closely with those beautiful dark eyes of his. It felt like he was looking deeply into you, trying to assess whether you were truly comfortable with this.

Slowly, he nods before his hands squeeze on your hips, pulling you a little closer to him before he presses a soft kiss to the skin between your breasts. It’s surprisingly non-sexual for the area, but instead it just feels like he’s comforting you.

And as you stand back, moving into the corner away from the glare of the camera, you acknowledge that he probably was. If you give him any signal tonight that you’re not happy, then he’ll stop. Even if it is his last show.

The next ten minutes are spent with Hoseok setting everything up properly with the camera and making sure everything’s working before the light is red and he’s sat back in his usual position on the bed. A brow is raised almost arrogantly as he waits for the viewers to come in.

From your position, you’ve got access to your own laptop and you can watch his page as they rush in. His shows normally bring in a good few thousand viewers at their peak, sometimes hitting 10k. But the news about this being his last show must have spread like wildfire because he’s only been live for a few minutes and he already has half that.

Yes, HopeWorld was certainly going to go out with a bang.

After 10 minutes of waiting around and idle chatter between Hoseok and his loyal viewers, he finally decides to get it going. A quick glance over to you gets your approval before he’s shifting forward, elbows resting on his knees before he smirks at the camera.

“So...I’m going to get straight to the point here. From the large viewer count, which I think has beaten my all-time record, I’m guessing that everyone knows this is my last show before HopeWorld closes its doors for the last time,” He pauses for a moment, eyes flickering over the comments before grinning brightly. “Aaaawwwww.”

The sound is teasing and not even slightly sympathetic, his every moment over exaggerated before he’s smiling back at the screen, tongue running along his white teeth slowly. “Yep, last one. And this is going to be different. Not just because of it being the last. But there’s always been something that people wanted from me and it just didn’t fit at the time. Given it’s my last show...I thought I’d do something different for you all. Go out with a bang.”

His grin turns mischievous as his brow wiggles enticingly, eyes darting over to you once more. “Tonight...Hope is going to retire. But I’m not going to be your Hope for most of the show.”

At that, you take a deep and fortifying breath before clenching your fists to try and calm your racing nerves. This is everything you’d fantasised about whenever you’d watched his shows, and yet now you’re so nervous and worried.

But the tiniest tilt of his head towards you gives you the courage to paint a mysterious smile on your face before you saunter into view. Along with your delightfully sexy lingerie, you also have a pair of sky high heels that cause you to tower over Hoseok for once.

He looks at you slowly, his pupils blown out already as his wet lips part, breath coming faster already in anticipation of your touch. Smiling, you run your fingers through his hair before gripping the back of his collar and tugging at it.

It jerks his head back until his eyes lock onto yours at an awkward angle, a look of pure and utter submission on his face as every inch of his body relaxes into your grip. “He’s going to be mine, aren’t you?”

You’ve lowered the tone of your voice until it’s low and smooth like butter with enough of a hint of husk to make Hoseok shiver. He doesn’t respond for a moment and your fingers tightened on his hair until he lets out the softest whimper.

It’s nothing impressive as a sound, barely heard in the room despite the quiet, but you know damn well that his viewers likely just almost brought themselves to orgasm just from that one syllable.

Because Hope has never once whimpered in submission, nor has he ever looked like this. So powerless under your hands.

Honestly, as much as you love being dominated and sobbing out his name, you don’t think he’s ever looked better than right then.

Smiling at him, you let the finger of your free hand trail along his jaw slowly, taking in the feel of his skin and the hardness of bone underneath before dragging your fingernails down his throat until they slip beneath the leather collar.

“Be a good boy and unbutton that shirt.” Hoseok lets out a moan in response, his nose pressed to your bare stomach from how you’ve pulled him forward. He doesn’t make any further move there though, despite the heat of his breath as it caresses you.

Instead, he does exactly as you demanded from him. Long and elegant fingers, fingers that you’ve drooled over many times on your screen as he gripped his cock or screamed over as they abused your pussy, are working each button from its position to reveal more and more golden, toned skin.

The whole time he does this, Hoseok keeps his eyes firmly on yours until you’re not entirely sure if he’s submitting like he should be. A hand flutters up to touch the black lace mask that’s wrapped around your eyes, hiding your feature from view. Pointless if anyone you know watches this, because there’s no way on earth Hoseok would ever cheat on you. Nevermind doing it live.

But still, it provided a layer of protection that comforted you. Even if it was flimsy.

Plus Hoseok had practically drooled when you’d put it on so that was a win.

Once the shirt was unbuttoned, it lays against his torso prettily and you lean back to admire the delightful lines of his musculature that you’ve kissed and licked so many times before. He’s beautiful, and you fully intend on making sure that he knows that.

“So pretty. Take off those pants for me.” He nods his head slowly, fingers pushing the button through before unzipping them. Standing, he lets them pool at his feet before stepping out of them and you’re left to admire his physique.

He’s lean, yet the toned muscles let the viewers know that he works out enough. But what you’re focused on is his cock, standing proudly from his body as it bobs in the air. As you’ve stated before, he’s not a huge man, but while he may not be the longest he’s certainly got a delightful amount of girth that has you moaning out his name more often than not.

“Doesn’t he have the most delightful dick?” You ask the camera, reaching forward to let your fingers clasp around the silk covered steel of his erection, stroking gently and making him shudder as his head falls back. “Lay back on the bed and stroke yourself for me Hope.”

“Yes Ma’am.” Hoseok responds, sitting back on the bed. He shifts until he’s horizontal to the camera, allowing his whole body to get in the shot before he grasps his dick in his hand and begins to stroke. Talented and experienced hands that know exactly how hard to pull and how to twist until he’s groaning out and painting his stomach white.

“Don’t cum, but keep stroking.” You command firmly, resting a hand on his thigh. “I’ve got a surprise for the viewers.”

With that, you disappear off camera before coming back. The whole time, Hoseok watches you intently while his hand works at himself slowly, his cheeks ever so slightly flushed. But that does nothing to disguise the look of lustful interest in his eyes, nor the way he grips himself tighter with anticipation.

Moving until you’re just in view of the camera, you bend over to give Hoseok the best view of your ass and clothed pussy. The pained groan he lets out tells you that he obviously appreciates it, but you focus on the camera instead as you paint a pretty smile on your face.

“Now...I’ve heard from Hope that you’ve asked him to do a lot of things over the years. And he’s been a very naughty boy by teasing you all hasn’t he? It’s taken this long for him to be the one on the receiving end, and I know you’ve just been desperate to see that.” You pout slightly before winking. “But don’t worry, I’ll make him beg for you all.”

A turn of your head lets you see that Hoseok has slowed down, his hand not moving where it grips his cock firmly and your brow raises slowly. He catches your eye and flushes, mumbling out an apology to you before he’s stroking himself once more.

“I’ve also heard that you’ve asked if he’d be more willing to do things that other camboys do. I know that a lot of the solo guy shows don’t only jerk themselves off but use sex toys on themselves.” Leaning in, you read the comments as they move past on the screen before making a contemplative noise.

“I know he uses sex toys...but it’s always like...a cock ring or a fleshlight. I was thinking that we could have something else this time.” With that, you wink before producing the sex toy from your back.

The dildo is a glittering green, a joke that you’d bought him years ago when you first brought up the idea of pegging him. At the time, he’d just rolled his eyes in amusement but eventually he’d let you actually use it on him. As such, this was very much his toy.

And he definitely enjoyed it.

When you’d both been discussing how this show would go, the idea of using sex toys had come up and you’d then brought up the idea of using a dildo on him. It was something you both enjoyed in your private sex life from time to time and he’d casually mentioned sometimes that his viewers had often suggested it to him for the camera.

It was a popular form of entertainment for other camboys, but Hoseok had never done it. That wasn’t his style of show and he didn’t particularly enjoy doing that solo.

No, that was your thing to do with him and he’d been receptive to the idea of doing it on camera.

Which was why you’d both prepped so intensely earlier, because neither of you wanted to spend half an hour on camera just prepping him. Despite what porn and fiction said, anal sex was not something to just rush into and you had no desire to hurt your fiancé by going too fast.

Sure enough though, the comments are going crazy as everyone can guess where this is going. Hope being submissive was exciting enough for them all, but finally getting to see him being the one to writhe and whine as his ass was fucked was pushing them into overdrive.

It was with amusement that you watched the viewership spike suddenly, and you wondered if there were people who were spreading the news. You knew for a fact that Jimin was watching intently, which made you only slightly nervous. But if he couldn’t be fucked by, or fuck, Hoseok then he’d said he was damn well watching you do it.

“Yeah, I thought you’d all enjoy that. Would you like that Hope? Have your ass be fucked by me while all your viewers watch?” The question is light and inquisitive, double checking with him that he really was okay with this.

His response comes in a low, rasping voice that betrays the desire he’s feeling for what you’re going to do with him. “Yes Ma’am. I’d love that.”

“Hmmm...I did say that I would have you begging for your lovely audience. Maybe we should start now.” Moving over to the bed, you crawl on top of it until you’re between his legs, pushing them apart enough for you to kneel comfortably there and enjoying the sight of him stroking himself slowly.

Just slow enough that you can’t complain at him, but not fast enough to get him going. Though that doesn’t stop the bead of pre-cum that drips onto his toned stomach.

Uncapping the bottle of lube you’d dropped on the bed next to him, you drip it onto the dildo before stroking it slowly to coat it entirely. The sight of you jerking off a fake cock and not his own has Hoseok whining quietly, a tiny pout forming on his lips and causing you to laugh.

“Look at that. Where’s the Master or the Sir now? I’m only seeing a whiny baby. Are you being a whiny baby Hope?” You tease, voice light as you let your lubricated fingers trail along the soft, vulnerable flesh of his inner thigh.

“Yes Ma’am.” He responds dutifully, playing it up by pushing his lower lip out even more. His muscles twitch as you near his cock, testicles drawn up tight but you bypass that entirely.

Instead, you shift till you’re hovering over him before leaning down and catching that pouty lip between your teeth, tugging slightly before letting go. His breath, minty fresh from brushing just before going live, pants against your mouth before you kiss him.

It’s not a sweet kiss, nor is it soft. Instead, it’s rough and forceful with you taking control of his mouth and forcing him into submission. His natural dominant instinct makes him fight back for a few seconds before he remembers his character, sinking back into the silk sheets and letting you have your way with him.

While he’s completely distracted, you take the chance to grab his swollen cock and pump it a few times with a tight grip. He’d let go during the kiss, too concerned with your mouth on him to care about stroking himself off but your touch has him gasping into you.

You take that opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth, exploring him thoroughly in a kiss that quickly turns loud and sloppy. It’s probably not hugely attractive to watch, but you have no doubt that it’s a turn on for the audience when combined with your hand stroking at his stiff cock.

Pulling away suddenly, his kiss swollen lips cause you to smile as you note the wetness of them while your eyes trace down his slim frame till you reach his pride and joy. Any motion has stopped on your side, but his hips are moving in small, minute movements almost of their own accord as he tries to fuck into your hand.

“Do you want this cock?” You ask, lifting up the dildo that has been held firmly in your free hand. It shimmers in the light, wobbling slightly but Hoseok’s eyes darkened at the sight as he nods. Tutting, you grip his cock firmer. “I said, do you want this cock?”

“Yes Ma’am. I want that cock.” Hoseok is quick to respond, his words laced with a whimper and you smile triumphantly before letting go of his own cock. It bounces against his stomach for a moment, so stiff and needy that it rises back up.

“Good boy.” With that, you let lube trickle from the bottle down onto his balls before running the tip along it, collecting it before pushing it against his puckered ass. With the head pressed firmly in place, you pause to glance up at Hoseok and only when he gives the tiniest nod do you begin to push it further.

There’s resistance but it’s much easier than it would have been thanks to the prep you’d done and the copious amount of lube. He hisses slightly as the tip finally slips inside, his body tensing at the sensation but you made soft noises of encouragement, a hand running along his thigh reassuringly.

The hard bit is over now. Hoseok’s always found the first penetration hardest, but you know he’ll be okay now that’s over with. And if he’s not, then he’ll tell you. If he’s really unhappy, he’ll use his safe word.

His comfort is the priority here for you, despite what the viewers may think.

But the preparation he’d undergone earlier makes it easy on him, and he makes no noise of complaint or visible flinch by the time the length of the dildo is firmly inserted inside him. His cock is still hard, but you take hold of it and jerk him in a few quick movements to keep him interested there.

As you do so, you pull and watch as the length slides out of him slowly and easily before pushing it back in. Hoseok clenches slightly at the feeling before relaxing once again, letting out a long and slow breath.

It takes a few minutes for him to be fully okay with the sensation of the dildo, but the combination of time and the pleasure he gets from your hand job soon has him panting out loud.

Sure enough, it’s not long until he’s whining out loud as you increase the speed with which you thrust into him in small increments. A slight angling has his entire body stiffening up; not from pain but from pleasure as a long groan leaves him.

Experience has taught you that this angle is what seems to really stimulate his prostate and the way his thighs begin to shake tells you that he’s more than happy with the situation. Smiling to yourself, you lean down until you bite at the muscle of his thigh lightly, tracing your teeth along the sensitive skin there as he gasps out loud.

“Does that feel good?” You ask, nose running along his leg given you have no free hand in which to reassure him. A glance up tells you that he’s nodding in response, mouth open and eyes closed as his hips rock slowly.

Grinning, you stop suddenly and push the dildo in as far as you can get it. Tapping at his thigh with your now freehand, you look down at him imperiously. “Keep that in you. I’m sure you can do that right?”

He nods immediately and when you let go of the dildo, it doesn’t move at all. A pleased smile makes it way onto your face, causing you to lean down and kiss his forehead. “Good boy.”

You don’t need to look at his face again to know that he’s blushing a pretty pink under the praise, instead you just run your fingers through his dark hair before moving to look at the laptop. The chat is going wild with what they’ve just seen, even if they angle means that they can’t quite see the dildo in him.

Taking pity on them, you take hold of the camera and bring it around so that they can get the perfect view of him. “He looks so pretty doesn’t he? And he takes it so well. Jimin and Jungkook have really missed out. Don’t you think his cock looks so nice though?”

A few comments make you chuckle in amusement as you read them, eyes hidden behind the mask yet gleaming with anticipation.

Horny4Hope: Hope looks so nice fucked out.

CumToMe: That cock would look better with your juices on it

DVA256: Fuck him Ma’am! Make him beg!

“Should I fuck him? Do you think he deserves to put his cock in my pussy? Has he been good enough?” The comments flood in with viewers desperately screaming at you to fuck him, or be fucked. Some want to see the Hope they know and love appear and make you sob his name whereas others demand that you ruin him till he’s gasping.

“How should I fuck him?” That question gets hundreds of answers flooding in, but the overriding theme appears to be riding him. Keeping him in his submissive position and not allowing him the chance to gain any dominance.

Eyeing him as he lays there patiently, white shirt splayed open and carefully muscled torso just waiting for your touch, you agree with them. Being on top isn’t your favourite position, that would be when he’s jack hammering into you from behind, but it does give that beautiful sense of power. Plus, Hoseok goes wild for the view.

“Let’s ride him then shall we? I think we’ve tamed him enough.” You slowly take your underwear off, as seductively as you can for the camera before moving back to the bed. Once there, you move until you’re on top of him with your soaked core hovering over his stomach. His breath is coming faster already, sweat on his face and chest and you can’t wait till he’s drenched.

But you don’t slip onto him yet. Instead, you widen your stance a little until your clit brushes against his toned stomach, the sensation causing you to gasp out. Eyes fluttering shut, you rest one hand on his chest and rock your hips back and forth, the friction sending shocks of pleasure through your system while your wetness coats his skin.

“You feel good already Hope. Will you make me feel good with your cock?” You ask, breath strained slightly as your hips buck a little more. Hoseok’s eyes are glued to the area between your legs, focused with laser intensity on your engorged clit as it rubs against his abdomen.

“Yes Ma’am. I’ll make you feel good with my cock. You’ll feel better with my cock than with my stomach, I guarantee it.” His eyes flick up then to catch yours, a slight look of defiance in them as if he’s telling you to test his theory.

Your eyebrows shift upwards slightly and you smile, reaching to grab his swollen cock before you inch backwards until the tip of him is rubbing against your entrance. Rolling your hips in a circular manner, you tease him by sliding only the slightest of him inside before lifting off him again.

This is repeated a few times until he lets out a quiet whine of impatience, laced with desire and need. Tutting, you take pity on him and slide down on him suddenly, his cock penetrating you with ease given how obscenely wet and aroused you are for him.

Every inch of him fills you immediately, your sensitive walls clenching instinctively as you let out a long moan of pleasure. Hoseok’s cock has always felt good, and the knowledge of being watched makes it even more arousing and therefore pleasurable as you tighten once more.

His hands flex against the sheets, not touching you given that you haven’t given him the permission to do so. But you know he’s desperate for his hands to sink into the soft flesh of your hips, push you down as he drives upwards.

Instead, he lays there with clenched teeth as you slowly begin to ride him. He looks so attractive that you can’t help but lean down and bite along his neck once more, reaching any skin that you can manage around his collar and sucking deeply until you can feel the vibrations of his noises through his throat.

“He’s doing so good for me, aren’t you? His cock feels just as good as you think it might, I hope you all know that. Just imagine him inside you, filling you up until all you can focus on is the thickness between your thighs. Each ridge of him pressing against your sensitive areas, the friction of him so overwhelming. Imagine him fucking up into you, or you riding him like this. He’ll be whatever you want him to be, right Hope?” You end the teasing by running your hand along his chest, nails scraping slightly as he shudders and moans under you.

“Yes Ma’am. Anything you want.” He’ll probably say whatever you want right now, the combination of his cock in your wet, tight warmth and the dildo pressing against his prostate with every clench of his muscles and movement of his hips overriding any coherent thoughts he may have.

“That’s my good boy.” Purring to him, you begin to ride him with wild abandon.

Each roll of your hips had his thick length sliding in and out of you with a practised ease, the blunt head of him rubbing against the sensitive nerves inside you with each precise movement until you let out a soft cry of pleasure. Looking down at him, you groaned quietly at the sight of him so unbelievably fucked out beneath you.

It was a common sight for you, but not one for his viewers who were used to the restrained and controlled persona who inhabited HopeWorld, ruling it with darkened words and silken hands that touched only himself. Now though, they were being introduced to a whole new persona of Hope; one who enjoyed losing himself to the sensations and feelings that came with letting go.

Hoseok was tense beneath you, the toned planes of his chest shuddering as his lungs worked to force life giving oxygen into his starved body while the tendons of his neck tensed delightfully beneath the black leather of the collar that wrapped around him. Bruised rosettes were blossoming already from your earlier, insistent, ministrations and you smirked at the sight of them as he bit down on his lip, reddened from the constant chewing he'd been doing.

His abdominal muscles flex beneath you with each rock of your hips, a sign that he's fighting the instinctual urge he has to surge forward and fuck you till you're weeping his name. Only the knowledge of punishment, a refused orgasm once more, keeps him from giving in.

Inky hair clings to his sweat soaked forehead as his eyes scrunched closed, whimpers of almost pain leaving his throat but you know it's the opposite. He's experiencing too much pleasure, the precipice to bliss just within his reach and you purr softly.

“Does my Hope want to come? Do you want to come inside me until you're leaking out of me with each thrust? Till I'm coated in white?” He nods immediately, a choked grunt escaping him as you twist your hips a certain way while clamping your inner muscles down.

Reaching behind you, twisting your body till the camera has a great shot of you riding him,you grasp the end of the dildo still firmly wedged in him and pull on it slowly before sliding it back into place. It's awkward in this position, and you can't pull it out far enough but his reaction makes it worth it.

A high pitched whine leaves him before tagged gasps tear from his lungs, body jerking like he's been electrocuted beneath you from the dual pleasure of your slick, tight pussy around his cock and the thick, long intrusion pressing against his prostate in his ass.

Looking at the camera, you smirk before using your other hand to play with your clit slowly. Deft, experienced fingers rub at the bundle of nerves till you're fluttering around him and he's letting out random noises as you let out a deep sigh and shake your head.

“I don't think our Hope deserves to come in me, do you?” You ask his viewers directly, pausing your movements to lean in and read the flurry of comments that are flying along the screen. There are over 70,000 people watching you ruin him right now and the sheer thrill sends a tingle down your spine.

“Looks like they agree Hope, no pussy for you.” You murmur, grinning for the camera before turning back and leaning forward. Hoseok's eyes are almost black with lust and passion and he acquiesces to you with zero complaints as you kiss him messily, tongue playing with his in a loud show before you pull away to admire his wry lips.

Lifting your hips up, he slips out of you before his length bounces on his stomach and rising back up to press insistently at your clit. Sighing quietly, you grind against him and simply enjoy the way his slick flesh feels against you.

“How should I use him to get off hmm? Should I ride him? Get myself off while he watches? Or ride his face?” You throw out the suggestions casually, feeling the way Hoseok shudders beneath you in anticipation of whatever you’re going to do for him.

Crawling over to the laptop, your eyes glance towards the camera and you take note of yourself in the screen as you do so. Your breasts are still held tightly in your lace bra, the hints of green noticeable even at a glance and your teeth bite at your lip seductively as you run a hand over the soft mounds of them.

Unsurprisingly, the comments are going wild and you laugh lightly as you sit against the edge of the bed, likely leaving a patch of darkened wetness on the delightful silk sheets. Smirking, you let your tongue run along your lower lip slowly while looking into the camera.

“Shall we do a little poll? 100 coins to vote.” You murmur, grinning as your fingers tap over the keyboard as you set up the poll how Hoseok had shown you once. The hitch in his breathing from behind you let’s you know he’s probably turned his head away to let out a laugh at your blatant commercialisation of ruining your fiancé.

He’d be proud.

Shifting, you look at him with a raised brow as the poll begins to run. Hoseok’s face is carefully blank, the sweat on his brow shining in the light as he works to calm down his breathing now that he’s been given a respite. There’s something delightful about edging him along to an orgasm before letting him whine as it falls away from him and you understand exactly why he loves doing it to you so much.

Running your fingertips lightly alone his chest, letting the slightest touch of his skin ghost against your own. The sensation has him shivering, the fine hairs on his arms rising as you lean over and press an open mouthed, wet kiss to him. A stilted breath escapes him at your touch and you smile, your tongue darting out to lick the lightest line of wetness along his stomach.

You follow the natural lines of his muscles, dipping into the crevices and enjoying the slight tang of his sweat as it hits your tongue. It almost immediately makes a flare of heat burst into life between your legs, causing you to squeeze. The slight relief caused has you sighing against him, warm breath hitting the cooling trail on his skin and making him shiver again.

“You’re being very good for me, aren’t you? Such a good boy.” The words purr from you, low and teasing as you bite at his hip bone and cause him to jerk in response. He doesn’t respond until you look back up at him, brow raising while your eyes harden slightly.

Hoseok bites at his own lip, looking a little like he wants to be petulant and you mentally encourage him. Because there’s nothing like reprimanding him and making him whine for you, and the power trip the camera is giving you is like nothing else. You don’t even need to feel between your legs to know damn well that not only is your pussy wet, but your thighs too.

But he evidently decides to deny you that thrill because he nods slowly.

Still, you decide it’s not quite enough for you and you reach for his collar, pulling him up slightly until his shoulders leave the bed. “What was that? Are you being a good boy?”

Hoseok hisses lightly, his muscles in his torso flexing as he keeps himself up to ease the pressure on him before he nods once more. “Yes Ma’am. I’m being a good boy for you.”

You almost end up moaning at that, jaw clenching slightly to keep it all together at his sex roughened voice, the tone scraping against all the pleasurable bits inside you and letting you know that he’s beyond turned on. Though his cock was enough evidence of that.

Instead, you just smirk and let go before turning back to the laptop as he falls back to the bed with a soft ‘ooph’. The comments have been going wild again, with some people complaining about the lack of normal HopeWorld content but the vast majority going crazy over seeing their Hope being so utterly dominated after years of controlling his crowd so easily.

It would appear his fans are very approving of this change of pace, and you can’t help but break character and smile as you see the love that’s being sent your way. Any reservations or insecurities you may have had are swept away at the sight of them and instead you feel oddly empowered.

You understand why Hoseok has done this for so long now.

“Hmm...it would seem that the people want me to use your mouth to get myself off. What do you think about that Hope? Are you willing to put that naughty tongue to good use? You’re certainly willing to let it run on these shows...shall we show the audience that it’s good for more than just reprimanding?” Smirking, you take hold of the camera carefully and walked back over to the bed, carefully making sure that you’re in focus and everything is still working.

Hoseok’s watching you with those sex darkened eyes, lashes creating soft shadows on his statuesque face and you’re desperate for everyone to see how he looks even more beautiful with his mouth wet from you. You don’t let him have a chance to move, and instead straddle his waist once more before slowly crawling up his body.

The camera gets placed down just above his head, your eyes on the laptop screen to make sure you’ve got the perfect view while you try to avoid whimpering at the feel of his heated breath against your sopping core. This isn’t a position you do all too often, but your thighs literally tremble with desire at the idea of it right now and a quick glance down has you internally sighing.

Hoseok’s eyes are focused with quiet intensity on the soft flesh between your legs, his breath coming a little faster and his hands gripping the silk bedsheets tighter as he restrains himself from doing what he so obviously wants to. Which is attack you with so much fury and lust that you can’t stop your moans.

“Now then Hope...I’m going to need you to stick out that dirty tongue of yours. I’ve seen the filth that you’ve said with it over the years, and I think it’s time that we put it to good use.” There’s not even an ounce of resistance in Hoseok as he sticks his tongue out, stiffening the pink muscle into a point that has you shuddering on nothing.

Christ, he was going to be the death of you.

“Good boy.” You whisper before lowering yourself the final few inches until you feel the wet tip press against the engorged bundle of nerves, so sensitive that you can’t keep the deep groan inside. He’s warm against you, his tongue firm yet slippery as it slides along your folds with ease.

Hoseok doesn’t try to do anything for the moment, though you can tell by his closed eyes that he’s having to control himself pretty well. You don’t want him to get jaw, or tongue, ache though so you stroke your fingers through his hair slowly while you rock against him before finally letting him free.

“Use your mouth on me Hope. Show me that tongue is useful for more than just being dirty.” It’s all the confirmation Hoseok needed and he immediately relaxes his tongue from its stiff position, the loss of sensation almost causing you to whine.

Instead though, it’s replaced with his hot lips and an intense pressure as he wraps them around your clit before letting go. He continues with this motion in an almost teasing manner; suck and release, suck and release. It doesn’t help when he suddenly includes his tongue, flicking the tender flesh until you shudder above him.

Opening your eyes, you focus on the camera before glancing to the laptop to make sure it’s getting the best shot. From here, you can see the night sky blackness of his hair as it gleams in the light, his elegant nose visible before his wet, pink tongue darts out to lick a long, flat strip along your pussy.

It’s a ridiculously arousing shot, and combined with his movements has you moaning out loud while you fist at his hair. Your hips are moving of their own accord now, short little grinding motions that press yourself further into him and he lets out a deep hum of approval, the vibrations sending shivers along you.

“That’s it, oh god yes that’s it. Keep going, make me cum. Use your fingers.” You command of him, your voice wavering slightly as your eyes flutter shut from the pleasure that sizzles along your veins. It’s been over forty-five minutes now, and you’re more than ready to finally fall into the embrace of the orgasm that you’ve been teasing yourself with.

And Hoseok is more than ready to give it to you, with his long and elegant fingers running along the supple skin of your thigh lightly before reaching your drenched core. Two of them slide along you, coating themselves in your excitement before they’re slipping inside.

Almost immediately you clench tightly around him, the sensation of something penetrating you overwhelming and enticing. Hoseok doesn’t let you go easy though, and you almost get the sense that he’s getting his own back on you.

It doesn’t surprise you. You’ve always claimed that he was dominant even when being submissive, he just let you do what you want. But you certainly don’t complain this time, not when he starts to finger you at a fast tempo that matches the insistent flicking of his tongue on your clit.

Each stroke has his fingers bending, curling against your g-spot and sending an overwhelming amount of pleasure through your body every time until you were making the tiniest moans. The sounds are lewd and loud, overwhelmingly wet and you have no doubt that Hoseok’s chin is likely getting covered.

He makes no complaint however, instead just focusing on your pussy with a laser focus. A glance at the camera in front of you makes you quiver, thighs tensing before you’re moaning out in one long, low syllable that sounds like it’s been drawn from the bottom of your stomach. Your internal muscles clamp down on his fingers, twitching around him as your entire body convulses while his tongue still working at your poor clit.

Hoseok’s hand doesn’t relent either, continuing to push through your tightness and elongating your orgasm until the over sensitivity of it all has you panting and pushing at his head until those beautiful brown eyes of his are visible once more. They’re creased slightly, amusement evident in every inch of his gorgeous face but you don’t let the camera see that.

Instead, you shift until you’re kneeling on one leg, the other pushed outwards so the camera can see the slick, wet evidence of Hoseok’s ministrations on you. Even from here, you can see how turned on you look and the lust in Hoseok’s eyes tells you that the viewers are probably loving it too.

Humming to yourself, you shift until you’re sitting closer to the laptop and lean in to read the comments while positioning the camera to focus on your torso. The silk brushes against your clit momentarily and you let out a tiny gasp before focusing once more.

“Oh, it seemed they liked that Hope. You were being a very good boy, they approve. Do you think we should let him get his treat now? Good boys deserve a reward right?” Your voice is huskier than it would normally be, but you’ve just been given a phenomenal orgasm so there’s no surprise.

Sure enough, the comments come rolling in like a wave of unrestrained lust and desire. People demanding that Hoseok be ridden till he’s whining, fucked in the ass till he’s pleading or sucked till he’s gasping. One thing was for certain; everyone wanted to see their favourite Hope brought to an orgasm that was so shattering, it would shift the axis of his world.

“Okay everyone, I see. We all want our beloved Hope to get his happy ending yeah? A true goodbye to the camming world? What do you say I make him moan for you, the way he’s made all of you moan over the years? Would you like that?” Hoseok lets out a soft gasp from behind you, his hand moving until it’s resting against the small of your back in a reassuring way.

The camera doesn’t pick this up and it warms you from the inside at his touch. He was ready for whatever you gave him.

His viewers are desperate to watch him truly fall apart, to witness him brought to orgasm by someone else. Smiling, you shift to look at him before smirking, running your finger along his swollen lips. He keeps firm eye contact with you as his tongue flicks out, playing with your finger before you’re looking back at the screen.

“Is everyone ready? You’re going to get to see the one and only Hope, truly fucked out for the first and only time.” The chat goes wild with excitement and lust, causing you to laugh as you move out of the way before shifting the camera until it’s focused on Hoseok perfectly.

He’s still wearing his shirt, the white that covers his arms contrasting against his warm, golden skin that’s covered in the lightest sheen of sweat. His hard cock, swollen and stiff against his stomach, is leaking pre-cum and you grin as it twitches as you watch it while his balls are tight, desperate for release.

“Let’s go then Hope, can you handle it?” You turn towards him, crawling on your hands and knees down the bed until you’re at his thighs. His lip is pulled into his mouth, white teeth apparent for a moment before they’re gone.

“I can handle it Ma’am.” His voice is quiet and respectful, but you can hear the slight pushback in it. He’s being cocky, which is a dangerous thing to be when you have his actual cock right there. Instead of saying anything though, you just grin before taking hold of the dildo that’s been sitting prettily inside him the whole time.

You know that it’s been affecting him, as occasional movements that had nothing to do with you would make him gasp and shiver. And you know exactly where his prostate is from previous experience. Not only that, but you have zero qualms in making him cry with pleasure again.

He tenses up for a quick moment before relaxing, his thighs tightening once more as you pull at the thick intrusion penetrating him until it’s almost out. Pushing slowly, you slip it back inside and grin at the deep grunt that leaves his mouth.

The next stroke is angled slightly, your wrist working to find the right angle until his entire body shudders and his hands claw at the sheets. Bingo.

“Do you like that? Does it feel good?” You murmur, tone low as you bend down to kiss along his toned thigh wetly. A few of your kisses turn into you sucking at the skin harshly, leaving pretty red spots that blossom, while others you bite at the muscle there.

It’s undeniably hot and arousing, the way he writhes on the bed at your insistent touch and how his hips circle desperately. Much like how yours must when he’s hammering into you, trying to find the perfect angle that makes your body sing.

But you’ve already found that with Hoseok, because each breath that escapes his heaving chest is laced with the beautiful sound of his moans and whines. Each noise painting a beautiful picture of heady lust for the camera.

“Did you know that he can orgasm from prostate stimulation alone?” You look at the camera, brow raised in amusement. From this distance, you can’t read the comments but from the way Hoseok’s cock jumps, you know that he’s remembering the experience as well. “It takes a long time though, so today we’ll just have to help him along.”

Smiling at him, you grab the bottle of lube and add a little more to make sure he’s extra comfortable before working at him harder. Hoseok hisses out slowly, his chest lowering as his breath leaves him and you decide that now is the time.

His cock is resting on his stomach still, a pool of pre-cum leaking profusely from his tip with the more you stimulate him. Reaching for it, you grasp the base of him firmly before moving up in one, long stroke. The downward stroke has him gasping and you continue the motion on, starting to move faster until the sounds in the room reach lewd levels once more.

Leaning forward, you tongue at his balls slowly, tracing along the skin and sucking one into your mouth playfully while his body wriggles on the bed desperately. His hands continually clench at the sheets and you wonder if he might tear straight through them.

“Oh god, oh god please. Please.” He starts to pant, the words high pitched despite his deeper voice and painted with desperation. Poor baby needed to come.

Letting go of his testicles, you run the flat of your tongue up his shaft slowly, letting it play along him before you flick your tongue at the spot just below his tip. Salty liquid greets you, the evidence of his desire and pleasure and you suckle on the head of him for a few moments, enjoying the way his hips jerk up to try and find more of the warm embrace of your mouth.

You don’t let his movements dictate you however, and instead your tongue dances around his tip for a minute or so, dipping into his slit before tracing along the edges of the head. Finally, your lips wrap around him, only this time...you don’t let go of him. Instead, you let your head lower until he’s firmly in your throat, your nose pressing against the hair at his base.

The suddenness of being deep throated has Hoseok choking, his hips jerking up and almost gagging you as you force your throat muscles to relax around him. “Oh fuck, oh god, oh fuck, oh shit.”

He’s not making any sense with his words and you get the feeling that any form of coherent thought has officially left him as your throat contracts around his sensitive tip. Each pull of your mouth on his cock is reciprocated with a stroke of the dildo inside him, creating a dual sensation of pleasure that has him speaking in pure gibberish as his face screws up.

There’s no warning of his next move, no pat on your head or verbal cue. Instead, his hips jerk savagely under you before his entire body convulses in a wave of pleasure as streams of thick cum coat the walls of your throat. Hoseok is normally pretty loud when he orgasms, his groans deep and intoxicatingly arousing, but this time he’s almost silent except for a soft, high pitched whine.

You help him through it, continuing to bob up and down on his cock as he cums while your arm continuous to pump the dildo in him. As usual when he’s getting prostate stimulation, the orgasm is longer than usual and it feels like he cums for minutes, your mouth salty with his taste.

Finally though, he starts to whine and pant as the pleasure turns to overstimulation. “Oh god, please stop. Please stop Ma’am.” He gasps out, hands twitching as he struggles to avoid pressing against your head.

You take pity on him, releasing him with a slick sound and watching as his sensitive member falls back on his stomach with a slap. Humming lightly, you gently tug the dildo out of him and place it on the towel you’d prepared earlier, ready for it to be cleaned later while your hand runs along his stomach lightly.

Pressing a kiss to his chest, you move up to then kiss his lips while you scan over his face quickly to check that he’s okay. He watches you with tired eyes, the half moon crescents wrinkling as he smiles at you.

“Are you okay?” You ask quietly after a few minutes, keeping your voice soft and quiet as your hand strokes along his chest comfortingly. He nods, lips pursing into a slight pout and you can’t help but chuckle at him before kissing him again. “Come say bye to your viewers.”

Hoseok groans slightly, knowing that you’ll give him the aftercare he needs and wants once the camera has finished. You have every intention of bundling him into the shower, cleaning him up, giving him a warm drink before cuddling up with him under the covers. But he has to finish his camshow career now.

He shifts forward, his movements slow and lazy and you let him lean against you. His head flops onto your shoulder, black hair covering his forehead and you make soft, unintelligible noises as you move it away so the camera can see his beautiful face. Maybe the shift in demeanour might be jarring to the viewers, but neither of you care.

Leaning forward, Hoseok pulls the laptop closer to you both while you drape his discarded jeans over both of your laps. Odd, to want this privacy after what you’d just done yet you felt the need given the topic. He makes a soft hum of acknowledgement before shrugging off his shirt and wrapping it around your shoulders.

“Did everyone enjoy that?” He asks, the corner of his mouth twisting up as a hint of his usual Hope persona comes through. Your hand slips behind him to rest against his back, providing comfort for you both.

The comments are running along the screen and you read a few with a smile, enjoying people screaming unintelligibly in the comments over how beautiful Hope looked being ruined or how nicely he came for you. From what you can read, the general consensus is positive to it and you feel proud that you’d done what he wanted.

“Yeah? You think she’s hot? She is, isn’t she? Pretty good at this too.” He goes quiet again before laughing. “Actually no, I don’t do this often. But tonight was special for you all, right? A treat to say thank you for loving me over the years.”

You want to hug him at that; the love and affection in his voice is so strong. He’ll miss this, you know he will. But Hoseok is also stubborn, and you know that he won’t change his mind.

“Does she have her own shows? No, she doesn’t,” He pauses and looks at you with a bright smile, the familiar heart shape warming your own heart. “I should stop talking like you’re not here. But seriously...thank you for all your love and support over the years. It’s meant a lot, and I’m glad that you’ve loved me in turn. I’ll miss you all.”

Hoseok waves at the camera, smiling brightly and laughing at the comments as they fly past. “I love you all! I hope all you dirty folk find someone new to keep you in your place. But for now, HopeWorld is officially closed.”

And with that, he turns off live stream.

It’s silent for a few seconds before he looks at you and presses a kiss to your forehead. He doesn’t move, just lets his lips rest there before he’s nosing at your hairline while his arms wrap around you.

“You did really good. A natural on camera. And you looked beautiful. And I’m not entirely sure I’m feeling my legs yet.” Snorting, you lean back slightly to look him in the eyes.

“Are you okay?” You’re asking both about his physical and mental state after what happened but also about closing down his camshow career. His lips purse before he nods.

“Yep. I’m good. I love you.” He whispers before kissing you slowly. A rumble of pleasure leaves his chest and you smile into it.

“Love you too. And now I believe I owe you some aftercare, so shower it is Mr Jung.”

“Yes future-Mrs Jung. Your fiancé needs his cuddles.”

“And he’ll get them. Once he’s clean.”

[forever-more-never-again]

Thaw (A Request)

Requested: Anonymous

Word Count: 2375

Pairing: Natasha X Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood, murder, fighting

Request: Could you do a Natasha x mutant reader where the reader has frost powers and she can control ice/snow/temperature? Maybe the reader starts off as a villain and gets arrested, then the avengers find out about her powers and send Natasha to recruit her? Thx luv

A/n: Didn’t specify a happy ending so ahahahaha....I may have made this a little angsty....  hahaha don’t hurt me, enjoy

Masterlist

Time seemed to stand still as you ran through the siberian forest.

The snow was pristine and the lack of any animals made it seem like you were running through molasses.

The scenery never changing.

Of course you didn’t feel the biting cold, you couldn’t feel the freezing snow under your bare feet, or the ice cold air drawn into your lungs.

Perks of being a mutant with ice abilities. You never got cold. Never felt cold. It was like you were immune to the one thing that made you a freak to normal people.

The reason you were currently on the run.

“Find them! Now! We can't let those documents fall into the wrong hands!”

The stern, bellowing voice broke through your reverie and you picked up your pace. The files in your hands tucked against your chest.

You had been paid top dollar to steal confidential files from an Avenger sanctioned Blacksite.

You didn’t know what was in the files, you didn’t need to know. 

To survive in a world that had only looked down on you, had been cruel and unjust, you did what you had to to survive. Which was how you found a group of mutants in America that used their abilities to be sold to the highest bidder to survive.

It didn’t matter who bought your service. Be it government, villains, civilians, as long as they followed the guidelines used by the group.

No real names. No contact except through a secure site. Payment up front. And complete discretion from both sides.

You had survived breaking a prisoner of war out from camps in the middle east, stealing a priceless artifact from high security museums. You had even gathered evidence on the occasional cheating spouse.

This was the first, and you thought grimly, last time you would take a request to steal something from the Avengers or SHIELD. 

When you dropped off the files, you would make sure to pass the info to any customers. 

Because being chased by Captain America and Iron Man was not something you ever wanted to experience again.

“Got visuals on them...Holy Shit Cap’ it’s the Mercenary FrostBite!”

You growled low in your throat. Shit.

“Turn yourself in FrostBite! This doesn’t have to get messy!” Iron Man’s electronic voice boomed through the sky.

Turning quickly, without losing momentum, running backwards, you smirked up at the suit flying after you.

“How about no!” You shouted up at him before gulping in a breath of air and releasing it in a slow stream.

Before he could dodge, Iron Man’s entire suit was coated in ice and he fell like a brick out of the sky.

“Tony!”

Looking down, you saw Captain America sprinting towards me, gaze burning with determination.

You winked at him and blew a kiss, which brought up a huge wall of thick ice. And caused a flurry of snowflakes to block his line of sight.

Giving you just enough time to jump into the portal of one of the other Mutants and disappear back to the base in New Jersey.

“Woah. [Y/n], you look like hell. What happened?” The portal wielder, some young guy named Amuk, asked before shaking his head, “Never mind. I don’t care. Just get to the drop off site so you can go on your next mission.”

You huffed. You had just gotten chased by some of the Avengers. But that was the way it was around here. Everyone for themselves. No one was friends. If you died, no one cared. It was just a way to get money and survive.

You had a day before you had to drop the file off at the designated drop off site. And now you were curious.

What was so important in these files that someone paid for you to get them out of a blacksite used by the Avengers?

You tried to never look into what you were paid to steal, but this had your attention now, and the more you tried not to think about it, the more it called to you.

Finally you couldn’t take it anymore, and in the safety of your room, which was really just a hollowed out hole in the side of the abandoned subway station where the group lived, you flipped open the file.

A picture was the first thing to meet your curious gaze.

It showed a cell with the walls covered in plans and diagrams.

You were interested in them as they seemed to depict doomsday devices like bombs, pathogens, and different ways to take out high powered world leaders and officials.

The next page showed a picture of the guy who you believed was responsible for the frantic words scribbled along the diagrams.

A disgraced Hydra scientist. Adal Herscher. Seems like SHIELD had captured him during a raid on a Hydra bunker several years back and now Hydra wanted him back.

Your skin crawled. The money that sat innocently in your backpack now seemed menacing. Blood money.

Inner Ward you were wondering why this bothered you now. You never cared who bought your services before.

Then another side of you piped up saying you never knew who bought your services before so you never had to worry but now that you knew it was Hydra…

Now though, you wanted to destroy this file and get rid of the money you had from the organization.

You knew all about Hydra and you knew what they did to Mutants. How could you be sure that they wouldn’t come after you? 

Even though you were anonymous, everyone who used the group knew that it was run and provided by Mutants. Particularly, mutants that had nowhere else to go. No one to miss them if they went missing.

And then you got to the page that showed who caught him. Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow.

You were embarrassed to admit you felt your cheeks warm as you stared at her picture.

She was so strong and beautiful and deadly. 

“Oi! [Y/n]! Just received a transmission. Whoever asked for that item you acquired wants it at the drop site today instead. Top Priority, they’re willing to give another five hundred grand for it.”

Startled, you slam the file shut and look up at Amuk. He just raised a disinterested eyebrow and waved a hand, opening a portal to where the drop site was.

For the first time in the five years since you had joined this group, you hesitated.

Drawing a deep breath, you stepped through the portal. And immediately regretted it. The sun blazed down on you. Causing you to drop your temperature to stay cool, but also taking a lot more energy from you to do so in the presence of such intense heat.

Looking around, you saw that the drop site was apparently outside the Colosseum in Rome. Great. You knew the client had said the drop site was an underground arena, but you had thought they meant like an underground boxing ring. Not a literal underground arena.��

A bunch of tourists were giving you strange looks as the portal closed behind you.

You were still dressed in the outfit from Siberia which consisted of bare feet, black spandex and a plain tshirt.

Minimum protection, but it allowed you to use your mutation to its max capacity.

You held the file close to your chest, avoiding the weird looks you were getting as you walked to the ticket line and flashed your most innocent smile.

“Hello. There should be a ticket on hold for me. Under S.S. Dereks.” The woman behind the counter clicked a few times on her computer and smiled back at you.

“Yes. Here you are. Looks like you have a pass to tour the construction that is happening to the underground area of the Colosseum, so if you follow that path,” She pointed you in the direction away from the rest of the tourists, “You’ll see the security. Just show them your ticket and you’ll be good to go!”

You thanked the woman and followed her directions, ignoring the uneasiness that came from being underground.

The security guards gave me no trouble, but I eyed the stun guns they had on their belts. 

The underground arena was quiet, and a lot cooler than it had been up top. There were boards of wood and power saws and tools scattered everywhere. Tarp covering areas, and signs marking certain historical stones and areas that weren’t to be touched.

You found a small insignificant toolbox off to the side and opened it up. Inside was the extra five hundred grand promised and you took it out and replaced it with the folder.

“I’m so sorry. I hate that I’m doing this. But I need to survive.” You didn’t know who you were apologizing too, or why you were talking out loud to yourself. But it didn’t help ease the small amount of guilt you felt as you closed the toolbox and began walking back out.\

That was when you felt it. The sensation of being watched. Not giving away that anything was wrong. You began forming icicles over your fingers.

And with one quick twist, you released the sharp claws up towards where you thought the person was.

There was a dim sound of the ice hitting stone, but no one cried out and nobody dropped from the rafters.

“Hmm…” You eyed the dark area suspiciously for a moment, before turning around, and immediately jumping back.

In front of you stood Natasha Romanoff. Black Widow, in her SHIELD outfit and glaring at you.

Snow blew in her face as you threw your hands up and let ice grow on your fingers again in preparation to strike.

But she didn’t charge. She didn’t settle into a fighting stance. 

So you took the incentive to start the banter before the inevitable fight, “How did you find out about this?”

Black Widow shook her head, her gaze softening, “[Y/n] [Y/l/n], alias FrostBite. Mutant Gene carrier that gave ice and snow abilities. Abandoned and ran away from foster homes before seeming to disappear off the map. Joined a Mutant group in New Jersey that sells out their services to the highest bidder. Wether that be murder, arson, stealing, or otherwise. But you, you’ve never killed. The most you have done in the past five years is steal and spy.”

Your eyes were blown wide as she recited your history to you. How did she know all that?

“What do you want with me!?” A growl and snarl ripped from your throat as you raised your hands, the ice on your nails growing to a sharp point, ready to fire at a single moment.

Natasha cocked her head, you tensed, “You stole a file. Did you read it?”

Your eyes swept over to the toolbox quickly, but not fast enough that Natasha didn’t see it.

“We know Hydra wants that file. That they want that scientist back from the black site you stole it from. Why steal for them? You know what they do…”

You felt heat sting your eyes and silently cursed at yourself telling yourself not to cry. You would not show weakness.

“You remember what it’s like, don’t you Natalia Alianovna!” You spat her name, enjoying her mild look of surprise, “Yeah, I know who you are. You should know what it’s like for us who don’t fit into society's perfect little mold. You do what you have to to survive. To live another day. To hope that one day it will get better. I do what I do to survive. You seem to have forgotten what that was like ever since you became oh so popular Black Widow.”

Natasha’s shoulders dropped the longer you spoke. Your voice was growing in volume until you were nearly shouting. And then, with horror, you realized you were crying.

The tears were hot against your cheeks as they fell to the dusty floor.

“Then let me help you. Let me use the power I have now to give you a better future than the one you have right now.”

Her words were so soft. So warm. You wanted nothing more than to agree, to take the hand she held out to you and let her take you away. But you knew that the future was not going to happen.

“Your promises are empty Natasha Romanoff. Empty and cold just like my heart. I have done things you will never find out, things that haunt my nightmares. You can’t save me. No one can.”

A sob heaved through you, causing the ice on your fingers to melt off.

A soft hand on your cheek had you jerking and then you were swimming in emerald green.

“You can choose to be good. You can choose to help instead of hurt. If I can be redeemed, so can you.”

In a sudden decision that you would most probably later regret, you surged forward and captured Natasha’s lips with yours.

The salt from your tears mingled with the heady aroma of cherries and the taste of vanilla on her tongue.

It was everything you dreamed and more. 

Just as suddenly, you tore away from her with a gasp, stumbling out of her reach.

She stared at you with wide eyes, one hand reaching up to touch her lips.

“Take the file. Once I knew it was Hydra that hired me, I didn’t want to complete the mission. Take it and never come after me again. Or I will fight you. Goodbye...Natasha.”

And before she could recover you ran.

You ran with your tears streaming down your face.

Regretting leaving her behind already.

But you knew nothing good could come of you going with Black Widow.

She didn’t know. No One knew. You had been the one...all those years ago...that had murdered your parents when they tried to beat you. You had been the one...that had shot and killed a witness...by shooting through Natasha’s abdomen.

Your crush would go unrequited, but, as you jumped through the portal, you touched your lips, remembering the taste of her, at least you got something to remember her by during the lonely cold nights.

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[construction102]

The Ultimate Guide To Construction

Some Known Questions About Construction.

: Cedar is concerning twice as costly as pressure-treated wood, yet it weathers well due to its fundamental oils and also tannins. Cedar normally stands up to insects. Discolor takes well to cedar. Like pressure-treated wood, it has a propensity to split as well as splinter.: Exotic, imported hardwoods such as ipe represent the leading end of outdoor decking materials.

Exotic woods must be affixed to the joists with unique surprise clips. Safety And Security Considerations Observe all safety and security recommendations that include the power tools that you will be making use of. Elevation can be a safety and security concern when building raised decks; even an altitude of a foot or 2 can be enough to cause injury.

The 4-Minute Rule for Construction

The Construction PDFs

Designing your very own deck can be an exciting process, but there are a great deal of points you need to think about (construction). It's important that you make a budget and also choose what objective you desire your deck to serve. When you understand your objectives, you can choose what form and also color your deck will be, and also what material it will be constructed out of.

You might have bought a new home with no deck, or you have an older house that needs a rotting deck ripped out and also rebuilt. With that comes the inquiry about deck licenses.

What Does Construction Do?

Depending upon what state as well as region you live in there may be minor differences in the policies as well as bylaws for Building Construction. The bylaws might impact how huge of a deck you can develop and also how near a property line, amongst other factors. We will discover various situations below.

Yes, you will be needed to get a deck permit. There are 2 primary building ordinance to adhere to that make this understandable, despite what state you live. If you are building a deck that will certainly be attached to your home or various other structures on your building, after that you will certainly require a license.

Some Known Incorrect Statements About Construction

Did you understand that most authorizations for decks that are of a basic develop can be provided while you wait? Assuming you have actually done your homework ahead of time and know that you need to generate a drawing of your strategy to be reviewed (construction). Depending upon what the code remains in your city as well as state will certainly figure out the exact requirements.

You will certainly require to give a comprehensive illustration of your suggested deck and where it affixes to your home. If you can supply range measurements of your backyard that will assist as well as the reviewer will certainly wish to see where residential or commercial property lines are. Size, size and height of the deck will certainly be called for along with where you are positioning your beam of light(s).

Examine This Report on Construction

The 45-Second Trick For Construction

(26, 28, etc) The spacing of joists. Concrete piles, screw stacks, deck blocks with messages. These demands are typically established by the elevation of the deck and also perhaps the advancement if it is a new home.

This implies you will certainly be issued a license. The authorization will certainly most likely price you some money.

All about Construction

That way you can better prepare when to obtain the products and also to have the deck footings developed. I wouldn't begin them though up until you have a permit in hand. This happens constantly! Individuals building decks with complete negligence for any type of building ordinance they may be violating. The issue with this is, it's not just codes they are bypassing.

An Unbiased View of Construction

If a deck were to drop with people on it, somebody might get seriously hurt. Among the positive aspects of adhering to protocol and also obtaining an authorization is that an examiner will come out to your site as well as evaluate the construction. The examiner will recognize if there is a safety and security danger and also exactly how to set about fixing it.

Not known Incorrect Statements About Construction

The inspector ought to catch issues similar to this (construction). Some other issues you may run into include: You could be purchased to take apart the deck. Just think about all the cash and time invested building a deck only to have to tear it down since it does not fulfill code and also is a safety and security threat.