#[ any way-- GOODNIGHT LADIES AND GENTS. ]

[bambikisss]

Royal Flush

-> In which your best friend sneaks into your castle and keeps you company before he goes off to war, leading to feelings being revealed.

KNIGHT!PARKJINYOUNG X PRINCESS!READER

SMUT WARNINGS: Choking, oral (both receiving), slight degradation, mentions of impregnation kink (keep it wrapped ladies and gents), unprotection sexy time, hair pulling, biting.

I will defend your honor every way I can, Y/N. In exchange, I want nothing more than you.

To you, love was something you thought you could live without.

You had been so focused on being by your mother's side as she ruled the kingdom that you hadn't even thought about searching for someone. You had only small crushes that would fizzle out faster than lighting would flash across a sky during a storm, leaving you with a cold feeling at their affection. Your mother would sometimes talk about how she was worried that you would end up alone ruling, and you would comfort her that you would find someone before then, just waiting for the one. She admittedly didn't believe you but would let it go as to not listen to your speech about being independent.

Your sister, however, wasn't so accepting of your answer.

She was always on you about marrying as you were the older one, talking about how men wouldn't wait forever for you to decide on who to marry, you always ignored her words as you found them stupid. Soon, though, after bringing it up once more at dinner, she snuck out into the town to tell one of the many popular journalists that you would be looking for a husband, the news coming back to you early in the morning as the house staff gossiped about who would come to try and get your hand in marriage. You tried to deny the rumors, but your mom and sister convinced you to seek someone for once. "Take this as an opportunity to find your soulmate, dear Y/N. If not for yourself, than for me," your mom smiled. She knew smiling at you always worked on you, clapping happily when you accepted your current fate.

You worked daily with the staff to prepare for the ball, finding yourself relaxed as you picked out a dress for the large ball.

Then felt yourself tense up again when you arrived.

The large ballroom was filled with your favorite colors and snacks with drinks, everyone turning to you as you entered with your family. The room went silent, only the orchestra playing in the background as everyone stared at you in awe. You felt almost small in everyone's gazes. You walked with your parents to the table filled with drinks as conversations resumed. You knew you weren't allowed to drink, but you were craving alcohol. Before you could try and convince your mother to let you drink, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned to face a man with large sideburns and pristine white teeth. He looked much older than you, almost around your dead father's age. "May I introduce you to my son, Rain?" You turned to your mom, who nodded, giving you a "behave yourself" look behind her fan, making you put a smile on your face and follow the man into the deep sea of men, knowing it would be a long night before you could get the alcohol you wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"None of the guys tonight were any good, mother."

You sighed as you changed into your nightgown and matching robe, your mom and maid lecturing you about trying harder at the next ball. You only nodded and wished them goodnight to get them to leave your room, sighing as you leaned against the door of your room. You let your eyes close as you enjoyed the silence, then ripped them open when you heard a noise from your open window. "Hello?" you asked the moon as if it had spoken to you, walking carefully over to the window as you leaned over the stone opening to stare up at the moon as the moon's light hit you. You were about to go back into your room when you felt a hand hit your's making you jump as you looked down at the hand, then had a hand coming to stop your scream as the male figure jumped into your room.

"Jinyoung! What are you doing in my room so late?"

You asked your best friend as he doubled over in laughter, his hand coming over to cover his mouth, making you shove his shoulder.

Jinyoung was one of your closest friends and confidants, being your personal guard whenever you went anywhere. He always had been by your side no matter what, including jumping into your room late at night to check on you. He was also the man who found your dead father in the fields and alerted everyone about his death, then comforted you as you cried for days.

"I came to see the swan of the season. The moon sent me," he chuckled, you shoving him again before walking back to your bed, bouncing as you fell back onto the bed. Jinyoung followed you, kicking your toe gently as he leaned against your bedframe. He looked you over, his cheeks becoming slightly tinted when he noticed your breasts pushed together and almost not fully covered by the lace at the top of your dress. He cleared his throat, closing your robe so it covered your chest, before his eyes me yours. "So, you're really looking for a husband now?" He asked, you turning to lean on your arm as you looked at him, drawing random shapes on the sheets. He knew how you fell in love, then quickly fell out of it, dealing with the angry broken hearts who tried to harm you.

You nodded, looking up at him as he sat down next to your head, moving your head to his lap. It wasn't weird for you guys to be so physically close, being friends for so many years.

"I just hope I find someone like you, Jinyoung. A caring soul who is also funny and carefree." You looked up when he scoffed, his head turning to stare out the window as he didn't want to meet your eyes. "I am not carefree, Y/N"

"You know what I mean," you sighed, sitting up as you pushed him off your bed so you could lie down. Jinyoung chuckled as he walked over to the window, preparing to leave before he turned to look at you. He mulled over mentally asking you on a date as he had grown feelings for you over a few years, deciding against it as to not ruin your friendship. "Well, whoever you marry now has to deal with getting food for you all the time from the town," he chuckled, tossing a red bean bun onto the small table you had next to the window before carefully climbing out, leaving you to smile at him as he disappeared beyond the stone window.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hadn't felt your heart drop so hard since you were told that your father died.

Your heart was so low that you were sure it was about to exit your body, your hands shaking as you ask your mom to repeat what she had told you as you followed her through the large halls to the meeting chambers.

"Lord Mingi and his kingdom of ruthless pirates declared war on us."

You couldn't understand why anyone wanted to declare war on your kingdom, unable to speak properly as she pushed to doors to the large chamber, revealing the large army waiting for instructions from her. You continued to try and comprehend the situation as your mom raised a hand to silence the voices, including the ones in your head. "I'm sure you all have heard about what Mingi has declared to do to us. I shouldn't need to stay here and give instructions on what to do. Jinyoung will lead you all to the battlefield and I expect victory."

You turned to face Jinyoung, who didn't meet your eyes as he nodded, then told everyone to go outside and gather their weapons and horses. You couldn't help but stop him and grab his arm to stop him from leaving with the rest of the army, afraid that you'd lose him like you lost your father. He turned to face you, placing his free hand onto your head as he smiled at you, then gently gripped your wrist to remove your grip from him, walking away without speaking any words as he followed his army, the doors echoing shut as his back was the last thing you could see of him.

You paced your room all day and barely ate anything, all too worried about Jinyoung and the fate of the kingdom as so many things could go wrong.

You couldn't think about what life could be like without him, your eyes filling up with tears as you looked out at the orange-painted sky, the sun slowly descending, leaving you with the moon and the stars that seemed to shine a bit brighter that night.

You had walked all day that by nightfall, you could only lay down on your bed as you let your tears silently fall down your face. You realized that you couldn't live without Jinyoung. It reminded you of how your parents looked at one another. Your mom was so sure that she would pass before your father but crumbled when his death graced her ears. Your mom told you that it was a sign of love; their permanent absence can bring you to your knees and to tears, even if you believe you are the strongest being in the land. You had only come to terms that you loved him an hour ago and now you could lose the only man you ever truly loved the same day.

You thought about all the times he came to see you, how you both would hide your tinted cheeks and star-filled eyes. How he would sneak you out to the gardens and dance with you all night long if you wanted and would sing to you or tell you stories. You loved him.

You had no idea what time it was, nor how much time had passed when you were startled awake by a hand gripping the top of your window, covered in blood as their veins popped. You quickly sat up, reaching over to the side of your bed where you had your sword Jinyoung had insisted that you kept for protection, teaching you how to use it if he was unable to get to you. Before you could stand up, you heard Jinyoung's familiar groan, dropping the sword as you rushed to the window, helping him inside, his body resting against yours as you helped him to your bathroom. You placed him on the floor next to the sink, quickly panicking as you noticed the amount of blood that was on his body and clothes, along with the noticeable rips in his uniform. You took a cloth and wiped his face, listening quietly to his quiet groans of pain, his eyes closed as he let you wipe his face. You took your time to admire his face as you had it so up close and so relaxed, taking note of the cut on his puffy lips and a past scar on his jaw. You didn't realize that you had stopped cleaning him up until he opened his eyes, staring into yours as he tried to sit up. You rushed to help him, Jinyoung telling you to give him a moment as he carefully stood up, leaning against the wall as he looked at you. His hair had fallen to cover his eyes, your fingers gently moving it as he only stared at you, Jinyoung then catching your wrist as he placed a kiss onto it.

You both said nothing else, the kiss charging both of you as he pulled you into a kiss, your lips moving messily against one another as he let go of your wrist, moving to grip your hips as your hands moved into his hair. He wasted no time pushing his tongue into your mouth, moaning softly against your lips as his hands squeezed your hips. He pulled back so you could both catch your breath, your breaths hitting one another as you both stared at each other, Jinyoung's hand moving up your body carefully, pulling up your nightgown as he does, his eyes moving to your hip. He leaned down to kiss it, biting the skin around your underwear, taking his time as he kissed around your hip, moving closer to your ass making you sigh as your hand moved into his hair. He gently wrapped his arms around you, picking you up before carefully placing you onto the bed as your lips connected again, his hands slowly pushing up your nightgown again as his lips moved to your neck, his hands now massaging your bra-covered breasts. You chose to speak the first words since he returned to you, gasping as you felt his teeth bite onto your skin. "Jinyoug, I love you." You confessed, his movements not stopping as he looked up at you, his hands still massaging your breasts. "You mean it?" he asked, his eyes filled with a mixture of lust and love, giving you the confidence to nod. He nodded, looking down at your breasts as you removed your bra, moaning as you felt his hands make contact with your hot skin. He bent down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, making you arch your back as Jinyoung slipped his hand behind you, grabbing your ass as he massaged it. "You tortured me so long, Y/N," He mumbled around your nipple, his eyes meeting yours as he bit down on it gently, making you whine as he licked it to soothe it before switching to the other one, kissing and biting along the valley of your breasts before his lips wrapped around your nipple. His free hand that was on your ass moved to the front of you, chuckling as his finger gathered wetness as he moved it up and down your slit. "You're so wet for me, love. I bet you wanted this so badly, hmm?" You nodded at his voice, your eyes shut as you enjoyed the pleasure, your eyes then popping open when you felt his hand connect with your clit, slapping your clit as his finger then soothed it as he sat up to stare into your eyes, smirking. "Words. Say it to me," his eyes drilled into yours. You wanted to look away from his gaze, his free hand coming up to quickly grip your jaw as his finger moved faster against you, making you whine. "I want you, Jinyoug. I've wanted you for so long."

Jinyoung chuckled, keeping your eyes meeting his as he pushed his finger into you, biting his bottom lip at the sound of your moans as he moved his finger faster. He watched you as he moved, watching your body move around the bed as you tried to move away from his finger, yet grip his forearm so he didn't stop. You wanted more, though. You waited so long for him that you wanted all of him.

"More Jinyoung, please" you whined, Jinyoung raising an eyebrow as he slowed his finger down, placing his free hand on the bed next to your head as he leaned down to you. "More?" he asked, his voice laced with fake confusion as he added another finger into you, making you gasp as he moved his finger faster. He kissed and bit around your neck, groaning as he felt his pants tighten at the sounds you and your pussy was making. He moved his fingers for a bit longer, ripping off your underwear as he climbed onto the bed, laying down on his stomach before he placed your legs onto his shoulders, diving into you. "So sweet my baby. So wet for me, huh? You're so tasty just for me," he groaned, making you grab the sheets as he pulled you closer to his lips and tongue, not giving you a chance to move away. You gripped his hair as you moved your hips against his face, Jinyoung murmuring filthy things against you as he licked you. Right before you could cum, he pulled back, leaning back on his legs as he ripped off his shirt, your eyes staring at his toned body and abs. You felt a rush of energy as you sat up and crawled over to him, your hand running down his abs as he kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. You let your hand move into his pants, gripping his dick as it twitched in his underwear. You watched as he pulled back from the kiss, tossing his head back as his hips moved to meet your hands, his tongue moving to lick his bottom lip. You took it as a sign to help take him out of his underwear and pants, leaning down to lick and suck his tip, the precome being salty and sweet.

"Look at you, so eager to suck my dick." He moaned, pushing your head down more as his hips move slowly, giving you time to adjust to his cock moving down your throat. You looked up at him, winning as his hand moved into your hair, Jinyoung shushing you as he pulled his cock out of your mouth. "Stop being such a whore for it. You'll get more in a second."

You had never heard Jinyoung speak to you like that, your thighs closing against one another as you moaned, watching as he got off the bed to remove his pants and underwear, then removed the rest of the nightgown, tossing it with his clothes before climbing back onto the bed.

"Are you going to be good for me while I fuck you?" he asked, rubbing his cock up and down to gather your wetness as his eyes bore into yours. You realized that he was giving you a way out just in case you didn't want to go farther, your heartwarming at the gesture. You nodded, your hands moving into his hair as you bit your lip. He nodded, pushing into you then placing his hands onto the pillows next to your head, capturing you in a soft kiss as he fully pushed in. You both moaned into the kiss as he waited to move, his lips moving to your neck as he began to move, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he rolled his hips to meet yours.

He looked up to your eyes as he moved his hips faster, groaning as he felt you tighten around him and your nails dig into his shoulders. "You feel so good, Jinyoung. Faster, please" you whined, wrapping your legs around his waist as he began to move his hips harder. Jinyoung sat up as his hips moved faster, his hand moving around your throat as he watched you. "Are you gonna cum, baby? I'm gonna cum too" he whined, leaning down to kiss you deeply, swallowing your whines as you tightened around him. You couldn't make words as you felt his hands tighten around your throat, giving you a heightened feeling as you came, moaning his name loudly. You looked up at Jinyoung as he moved his hands to grip your hips, moving faster as his eyebrows furrowed together, staring at where you both met. "Gonna fill you up so good baby girl. Gonna give you a fucking baby" he seemed to just be talking to himself as he came closer to his orgasm, gasping as his eyes connected with yours as he pulled you close to him as he came, his hips halting against yours. You moaned at the feeling of him filling you up, shuddering as he kissed along your shoulder. "I love you too, Y/N" He whispered against your ear, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he let his hands move around your body.

You leaned back against the pillows as he pulled out and went to go grab a cloth to clean each other, coming back to wipe your thighs and his softening dick before laying down next to you, holding you close as he kissed you softly. "I was so worried that you wouldn't come back, Jinyoung" you whispered, your lover nodded as his hands ran through your hair. "You were all I thought about while I fought. I wanted to tell you how much I loved you but I didn't know if you felt the same." He whispered, pulling you closer as he kissed you softly, his hands coming to cup your cheek. You felt the familiar butterflies in your stomach he sometimes gave you, making you move to kiss him more, Jinyoung chuckling against your lips.

"Hey Jinyoung?" You asked, your lover humming as his lips moved down your neck to your collarbone, his hands moving down your body. "How soon can you go again?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Very nice to meet you, Sir Lay."

You bowed as you waved away another suitor, sighing as you turned to face your mom, who only shrugged. You had spent a good half of the ball just interacting with more suitors, wanting nothing more than return to your bedroom and sleep. If anything, your sister was more interested in the guys than you were.

"Excuse me?"

You turned to face Jinyoung, who smiled at you as he nodded to your mom. He held out a corsage to you, your eyes lighting up as he offered you his hand, tilting his head to the dance floor. Many men eyed him with annoyance as he was the first man who you looked to have your full attention. "May I have this dance, Y/N?"

You turned to your mom, who nodded with a smile, letting you grip his hand as he led you to the floor, kissing her hand. "You look gorgeous, my love. Keep your eyes on me."

[drowning-in-dennor]

Dear Friend Of Mine

Linnea is on the run from her feelings, but an accident at the pub she escapes to forces her to confront the emotions she has been hiding from for a long time. [Written for @nordipalooza with the prompts of Denmark and Norway, 1800s and “promises”, as well as @dennorweek with the prompt of “royalty”.] [This work contains mentions of homophobia.]

  A braver person might’ve shouted.

  They might’ve thrown things around, screamed to the sky, let everyone around them know of their anguish. But Linnea has never been brave; she’s never been one to let people see past her indifferent mask; she’s nothing short of a coward. So she didn’t shout.

  She ran.

  There isn’t even anything to flee from, nothing but the image of the tearstained letter from her mother, informing her that her younger sister was trampled underfoot by a carriage last month and is barely hanging on to life; nothing but the nonchalance of the Countess when she gave her the letter, concern absent from her expression because it isn’t her little sister on the brink of death. But Linnea runs, shoes clicking against the rough cobblestone roads, to a shelter she cannot find.

  The hem of her skirts are already soaked after a few moments of running, and she’s not even that far from the estate. She doesn’t know where she’s going, or what she’s going to do. There is no way she can go home; she doubts she has the courage to face her injured sister. Linnea presses her hat to her head and trudges on, unaware of the people milling around her.

  After who-knows-how-long, she finds herself standing in front of a pub, filled to the brim with shouting drunkards and the sound of glasses clinking together. She slips inside, pulling her cloak tighter around herself, and tries not to gag at the putrid smell of sweat and regurgitation. After a few moments of pushing around the other customers, Linnea finds a small, unoccupied table at the corner of the pub and sits down there, shivering despite the heat. 

  She is too tired to cry. Her feet ache from walking, and though the knowledge that her sister could be dead, and that she wouldn't know until - if - the Countess called her in and told her tears her apart inside, somehow she cannot find the energy to shed tears because of it. Drunken screeching fills her ears, makes her head ache, but Linnea's eyelids droop despite the ruckus, and she drifts off to a fitful sleep.

  When she awakes, she is not alone. Next to her, squeezed haphazardly onto the seat, is a young woman dressed simply in a plain gown. Linnea rubs her eyes, preparing to deliver an icy retort, when she catches sight of the woman's face. The sparkling sapphire-blue eyes and elegantly-styled blonde hair are almost identical to the Countess'; this is surely her daughter sitting with her.

  At the estate, though, Lady Maren is almost always dressed extravagantly, draped in jewels and bright, patterned fabrics. To see her in a commoner's clothes at the corner of a stinking pub is peculiar, to say the least. Linnea sits up a little straighter and shuffles deeper into her seat, praying that Maren doesn't see her.

  Then Maren turns her head and looks right at her.

  She flails for words, for an excuse as to why she was asleep in a pub when she should be in the library tidying shelves. But Maren speaks first. "You shouldn't fall asleep in places like this, you know. Many a savage has taken advantage of a sleeping lady."

  Linnea knows the things that have happened to ladies in her position - theft, kidnapping, assault and much, much worse. Her hands fly to her pocket, her skirts. Maren laughs. "Nobody's done anything to you. I made sure of it." She holds up a thick wool blanket that is thankfully clean-looking. "Doesn't mean you can't go back to sleep, though. Look, I got you something."

  Still saying nothing, Linnea can only stare apprehensively at Maren and the blanket she is offering. This could be trap, could be the Countess ordering her daughter to catch the estate librarian off-duty.

  Maren laughs again. "You'll be safe, I promise. My brother's right over there, see?" She points at a tall young man, neat golden hair poking out over the sea of intoxicated heads. "If I shout, he'll be here to protect us."

  Cautiously, Linnea inches towards Maren, allows her to drape the blanket over her shoulders. It smells of cinnamon. Before she can thank her, Maren wraps an arm around her and pulls her flush against her side. Linnea's head rests against the crook of the Lady's neck, and she can smell her flowery perfume. It makes her dizzy. 

  "Rest easy, Linnea," she hears Maren whisper. "I'll watch over you."

  When she awakes for the second time, Linnea's shoulder aches, and she feels warm. As her eyes flutter open, she takes in the sight of Maren, who is still watching over her attentively. Her arm is still around her waist, firm and grounding. "Ah, our Sleeping Beauty is awake," she teases. "And it didn't even take a kiss."

  She cannot know. They have exchanged many a conversation while Maren was tending to her studies in the library, and they have pored over books together, leaning in so close they could see the details of each other's faces, but she simply cannot know of Linnea's inclination. Linnea rubs her eyes and sits up, flexing her shoulders. The bar is still rowdy, but the young Lord Oxenstierna is nowhere to be seen.

  "Berwald's gone home already," Maren supplies. "I told him I'd walk you home when you woke up."

  The blanket falls off her shoulders as she sits up, still drowsy and placid from Maren's warm, welcoming embrace. "'m sorry," she mumbles, "I shouldn't have made you wait for me."

  "Oh, no, dearie, I wanted to wait for you." Maren folds the blanket neatly and helps her to her feet. "What kind of person would I be if I didn't help a fellow lady?" As they leave the pub, Maren's arm still protectively around her, she adds, "as long as my mother doesn't hear about this, all will be well."

  The sky is dark outside, lit up by only a few lamps that illuminate the roads. Carriages rumble across the streets, the passengers inside safe and warm. A few beggars call out for spare change. They walk. 

  After a few moments of silence, strolling past shopkeepers closing their stores, a few men scurrying home, Maren repeats, "my mother will hear nothing about tonight. Not about us going to the pub, or Berwald following us, or how you fell asleep." Her arm is still around Linnea's waist. "She won't hear about our..." she cannot find the words for it. "Yes."

  "Our?"

  "Yes, ours. My mother will be mystified as to why I grow up a spinster." She delicately steps over a puddle on the road. "Better for her to wonder than to know that I think of women."

  The knowledge that she is not alone sends a wave of relief crashing through Linnea. But then she notices a police officer patrolling across the street, and she signals for Maren to stop right beneath a flickering street lamp. With a cautious glance at the officer, she leans in close and whispers, "what do you think would happen if a peeler caught us like this?"

  "If a what?"

  "A police officer. Do you think they would arrest us like they do the gents? Throw us before court, accuse us of sodomy, buggery and a hundred other terrible crimes; call us all sort of horrible names? Then, as a final blow, perhaps they would throw us into prison for years." 

  Maren turns to face her, cups her cheek tenderly. It is as though she has not heard a thing Linnea said. "It's terribly unfair, but we are lucky compared to the gentlemen." Her thumb strokes Linnea's cheekbone, the gesture so sweet that her breath catches in her throat and her heart flutters. "If somebody were to catch me doing this, I could simply say that we are very close friends."

  Linnea's face feels hot. "Friends," she repeats.

  "Only the most intimate friends." Maren winks and pulls her hand away, resuming her hold around Linnea's waist. "And surely the police cannot accuse two ladies of being acquainted."

  She cannot help laughing out loud, though she certainly will not be laughing if a police officer does get suspicious of them. Linnea makes sure that there are no other officers around before leaning in to Maren's embrace, feeling warm and giddy and perhaps a little in love.

  When they reach the estate, Maren pulls her arm away, and though Linnea longs for her to hold her all the way until she has to return to her quarters, she knows that the Countess would throw a fit if she saw them so close. Maren has to enter through the main door, while Linnea goes indoors through the servant's one. At the gates, Maren smiles at her, lowering her voice so that the doormen don't hear her, "not a word about this will go to anyone. I promise."

  Practically tingling from Maren's touch and wishing for some magical, impossible world where they could hold hands and maybe live together one day without people telling them that their love is terribly, terribly wrong, Linnea nods quietly. She can only reply with a quiet, "thank you."

  "For what?"

  "For taking care of me at the pub, and walking me home." She wants to kiss Maren, but surely there are people watching. "And... and for being a very good friend."

  "My pleasure." Maren smiles, looking ever so beautiful even though her face is half-shrouded in darkness. Linnea's cheeks burn. "Goodnight, Linnea."

  "Goodnight." Linnea slips into the manor, careful not to run into the housekeeper, and tries not to feel guilty over something that cannot be wrong.

...

  The next time Maren manages to talk to Linnea personally is one week later, as she is rushing to pack all her belongings into her battered suitcase. Before any questions can be asked, Linnea supplies, while balancing two stacks of books, "your mother has let me take the rest of the month off to see my sister, which I have yet to believe is actually happening. But I've earned enough working here that I may not need to return at all." She lays the books in her suitcase, squashing her small assortment of clothes, and turns to gather more of her things. "I can afford to pay off the doctor who treated Sula and still have enough for the four of us to live comfortably. I could finally settle down and be a writer."

  She does not miss the slightly crestfallen expression on Maren's face. "Will you?"

  "I don't know." Linnea gathers the writing materials on her desk, delicately placing the ink bottle and her box of pens, as well as a thin stack of paper, at the top of her suitcase. "On one hand, your library is truly impressive, and I would miss it greatly. On another, working as the estate librarian has made my eyes and back sore; if I have to shelve another stack of books, I will kill somebody." She sighs. "But I have the next week and a half to decide."

  "It'd be most unfortunate if you didn't at least visit."

  Linnea closes her suitcase and sits on it in an attempt to wedge it closed. "If I visited, I'm sure the rest of the staff here would be plotting to murder me. You're the only one in the entire estate who can remotely tolerate me."

  Maren sits down next to her on the suitcase and the thing creaks. "I wouldn't use the word 'tolerate'." She shifts closer, hand brushing Linnea's. "Perhaps 'adore' would be more appropriate."

  Thankfully, her door is closed and their conversation will not be heard by any staff members walking along the corridor outside. Linnea stands up and buckles her suitcase, brushing dust off her skirt. "If I do not return for work, I will definitely visit. The library here is honestly too good to be away from for long."

  "That's why you'd visit?" Maren stands up as well, and takes Linnea's hand. She laces their fingers together, pressing her thumb to Linnea's swift pulse. "Just to read books? Not to visit your friend?"

  Her friend. Not her lover, for the world is not kind to two ladies in love. Linnea squeezes Maren's hand. "All right, I'd visit to see my friend as well.

  Shoes click in the corridor outside. Maren's personal maid calls for her. She will be at the door soon, to sweep her away from Linnea and place her firmly back into her hectic schedule. 

  She's closer now. Maren throws one furtive glance at the door, pulls Linnea close and kisses her.

  It is quick, nothing more than a quick brushing of lips with the ever-present fear that they will be caught. Maren's lips taste of the tea she had with her breakfast, and as she pulls away, Linnea finds herself yearning for another kiss.

  The maid is only a few seconds away. Maren traces Linnea's lips with her thumb, and says reverently, "I hope I'll see you soon...

  "My dearest friend."

[abbacchiosbelt]

Oh shit Haley dem dilf asks I’m SCREAMING. Ugh they were all just-perfect??? I know he’s not technically a DILF but what about Speedwagon falling for one of Elizabeth’s friends? Like when she’s in college of course so he wouldn’t be super old-probably in his 40s or something. I love Speed but not like Battle Tendency old man Speed. But the poor man would feel such immense GUILT I think especially since it was one of Elizabeth’s friends.

hell yeah, anon! we need more speedwagon content… so why not?

as a friend of elizabeth’s, you’re well aware of how well-off her family is. they’re a rather lovely bunch, from the times you’ve been able to meet them at elizabeth’s house, but there’s a certain older gentleman that always catches your eye that acts as almost a second parent to your dear friend elizabeth.

18+ under the cut! cw for age difference. both parties are consenting adults.

There’s something tugging at your heart that you’ve never quite felt before when you see Elizabeth’s Uncle Speedwagon for the first time — he’s handsome in a ragged way, long scar marking his face and unruly blonde hair tumbling out from under his hat… yet he’s undeniably attractive, and you can’t help but shy away when he gives you a smile.

Elizabeth just titters and says she’s used to people being a little scared of Uncle Speedwagon, but that’s not quite it — he’s just so… handsome. And yet you’re a young woman, and he looks to be at least in his mid-forties. Still, you can’t help but to wonder what-if.

The next time you’re at Elizabeth’s house, you run into her Uncle Speedwagon in the kitchen while you’re preparing tea. He smiles when you ask if he’d like any and says yes. It doesn’t take long before the two of you engage in pleasant conversation. Oh, he’s shy and it’s so cute… but so are you, so the conversation is a bit awkward. 

It only takes a few more run-ins and a bit of cheeky encouragement from Elizabeth, but somehow, you find yourself nervously picking at your skirt while you wait for Speedwagon to meet you in the park for an evening stroll. The two of you are both obviously nervous, he stutters and asks if you’re sure you’d like a date with an ‘old man like him,’ but you assure him that you most certainly do.

He shyly asks to hold your hand — the two of you have an easy conversation whilst you stroll through the park. Speedwagon has had such an interesting life, and he seems happy that someone is listening eagerly. Perhaps it’s not usual for a woman your age to fall for someone like Speedwagon, but you can’t help how you feel.

He blushes deep red when you ask if you can kiss him — but he says yes and tips your chin up to help you reach his lips before you share a sweet kiss with him. He blushes the entire way home, escorting you to your door and tipping his hat to bid you goodnight.

It’s a few weeks before you’re able to meet him to go out again. He seems nervous, and he admits he feels bad about taking up your time — he says he knows it’s wrong for him to be attracted to a young woman like yourself with so much in front of you… But you just reassure him with a fiery kiss that you really, really want this.

You can tell he’s still a little nervous… but you call out a soft ‘Robert’, which he’d quietly asked you to call him by, and he snaps to attention. He takes you on more dates from that night, arriving each night with a lovely bouquet and a shy little smile. He’s adorable, for a man who has lived such a hardened life. Elizabeth is living for how happy her Uncle Speedwagon seems, and is more than happy to press you for details. You’re tight-lipped, much to her dismay. 

There’s one night, after a bit of dating, that you run your hand across Speedwagon’s chest and trail your hand down his shirt — it’s like you set some sort of primal instinct off in him. He’s still sweet and soft, but you’re laid bare beneath him in no time, both of you flushed and admiring each other’s bodies. He’s scarred but ever-so handsome, still toned. Speedwagon lavishes quiet praises on you, blushing all the while.

It’s a sort of fiery love-making that you’ve only read about in romance novels you had hidden away, and it’s good. He takes it slow since it’s your first time, but the pleasure is more than you thought it would be. Speedwagon knows more than the average gent about how to please a lady, and it certainly shows.

Although you enjoy each other’s company just talking and spending time together, fucking is like a novelty that the two of you can’t get enough of. It’s a bit like the old Robert is coming out in the best of ways. He takes you from behind, on your stomach, whilst you’re hoisted up in his strong arms… And you’re often laid atop him while he licks at your sex until you’re practically jelly above him. 

He treats you like a goddess, and you treat him with as much love as you can offer back. Something about the slight taboo of it all really gets you going, and once he’s more comfortable, Speedwagon likes a bit of dirty talk, like you telling him what a lucky old man he is to fuck such a beautiful woman. 

It’s hot to see him come undone when the old and harsh accent comes out while he’s pounding into you. In the bedroom you’re not a lady, you’re Robert’s sweet little slut or good girl. It’s new and arousing, and fuck if you can’t get enough of it. Hearing him rasp those harsh words into your ear — assuaged after sex with endless compliments and kisses — whilst he can scarcely contain himself, lost in the heat of your body.

It’s not just the fucking, either. Speedwagon has sneakily paid your tuition, as well as off-handedly buying you anything you happen to mention. You barely notice until you see him scrawling away on a piece of paper with something you’d mentioned earlier. It’s nothing to him — you obviously want him for him, so he doesn’t mind lavishing his riches on you.

Maybe it’s not conventional, but it’s your relationship and you love it.

[unofficialkfamtranscripts]

King Falls AM - Episode Thirteen: Crop Circle Jerk

View on Google Docs Summary: November 1, 2015 - An emergency at Libbydale Farms has Deputy Troy and King Falls AM on high alert. Mysterious lights? Check. Crop Circles? Check. Intergalactic Gang War? Stay tuned to 660 on the AM Dial to find out.

[podcast intro music]

[S&B show intro]

Ben Good evening! You’re listening to King Falls AM – that’s 660 on the radio dial.

Sammy Folks, we are jumping right into it tonight. We got Deputy Troy on the line, live from Libbydale Farms. Hey, Troy, can you hear us alright?

Troy Loud and clear, Sammy. Heard you real fine, too, Ben.

Ben [muttered] Suck an egg.

Sammy Okay. So, Troy. Tell the listeners what you just told us right before we went on air.

Troy Ladies and gents, in all my years— and I mean all of ‘em— I ain’t never seen anything like this! Not even comparatively close to what I’m lookin’ at right this instant. [faint sounds of police radio in bg]

Ben POINT. GET TO IT.

Troy Gosh darnit, Ben. I’m trying to sell the magnitude of what I’m feastin’ my eyes on!

Ben Who even knew you could see Libbydale Farms from so far out in the Kiss Ass Sea aboard the SS Backstabber.

Troy You know G-D well I’m not on a ship nor would it be called the SS Backstabber if I were. Don’t be so damn sore, Ben! Everybody knows I’m sorry! Plus- [kinda shyly] I reckon my ship be called the- USS Super Badass.

Sammy *pointedly clears throat* Troy. Ben. Let’s put our differences aside and let’s get to the matter at hand. So, Troy, you’re live at—?

Ben & Troy Libbydale Farms…

Troy & Ben I’m trying to talk!

Sammy GUYS!

Troy A-a-as I was sayin. I’m out here at the farm and out past the barns just hours ago, Old Man Libbydale called us in, and acres upon acres, boys, have been De.Stroyed out here.

Ben [accusingly] Where were yoouu, earlier this evening, Troy?

Troy Using my keen detective skills and ninja-like mental agility, I can see you’re trying to place me at the scene of the crime, little buddy. However Ol’ Troy was sawin’ logs next to the Mrs. before. my. shift.

Ben While crimes are being committed? *scoffs* Typical.

Troy Now that’s a low blow just be—

[shouting over each other] Ben NO! NO! Troy —low my pistol belt— Ben YOUU— N— TROOYY!— Troy — Ben come on— Ben — T— OHH Troy — this ain’t about the farm— Ben [mocking] OHH YEAHHH- OHHH YOU’RE SOOO— Troy — and you know— Ben —GOOD AT FIGHTING—

Sammy GUYS! GUYS! [“break it up kids”/dad-voice] I understand there’s renewed intensity between you two, but Ben, as co-host of this show and a respected journalist— put it away. Troy, you’re the first friend of the Sammy & Ben Show and a deputy sheriff. You guys don’t have to be best buddies, but let’s please report- on the news story- at hand.

Troy Couldn’t have said it better myself, Sammy.

Ben [hissed] Jesus.

Sammy So, Troy. Old Man Libbydale called you out— Acres of his lands destroyed. How so?

Troy Y’all ain’t gonna believe it, but you know I always shoot you straight… Two words: Crop. Circles.

Sammy [incredulous] Crop circles?

Troy It’s like a live action Led Zeppelin album cover as far as the eye can see! Big ones, little ones. The craziest damn designs you ever could imagine.

Ben Troy, I assume you and the rest of Gunderson’s thugs— I-mean-”deputies”— inspected the circles, and the surrounding areas, for man-made tools? There have been stories that men with boards tied to ropes can replicate what people believe crop circles to look like. Bending the crops at the right angles, etcetera… did you find—

Troy Didn’t find anything, Ben. Not a board… not a footprint… nothin’ but hunched over crops.

Ben So you think—?

Troy Oh, there isn’t a doubt in my mind it’s from the UFOs or those lights. I mean, whichever you wanna call it. No man made these! And in just a few hours to boot!

Sammy Okay. So, has this ever happened here before, Ben?

Ben No! Nor abductions! Not even lights being so close to town. The past few months- have been a hotbed for extraterrestrial activity— it would seem.

Sammy “It would seem”? So you aren’t certain?

Ben *scoff/laugh* I only said “it would seem” so you wouldn’t get all defensive about it.

Sammy Okay, alright. Well, as much as I hate to say it, I definitely feel there’s a lot more than meets the eye here in Kings Falls.

Ben I’m not one to say “I told you so”… But I DID tell you so!

Troy Just so everybody out there knows: Libbydale Farms is private property. So, unless you’re doing the dairy farm tour in mornin’, this is not an attraction for looky-loos. There is an official investigation still ongoin’ here. Plus, don’t nobody need another person gettin’ snatched up by the Martians either.

Ben *smug snort* Martians are from Mars, Troy. They aren’t representative of all extraterrestrials?.

Troy [defensive] Whatever— Ben Nye the Science Guy. I’m headin’ out to the field again. I might not be smart as Ben about the aliens and such, but I can definitely sniff out a spot where the Williams boys will come lookin’ for Mischief and Mayhem. [click]

[dial tone]

Sammy Deputy Troy, folks. Now, I didn’t realize you and Troy were still so angry at one another, Ben. You can’t let that hostility clou—

Ben THANKS, DAD! — We’re just gonna take a break to hear from one of our fine sponsors. Maybe Sammy here can talk to me about the birds and the bees after we get back.

Sammy [quietly] Maybe…

[disquieting, melancholic piano music]

Soft, disquieting voice What if what you thought wasn’t really what you thought you thought? … Ever think of that? … Here at the Institute of Science, we can help you become what you’ve always wanted to become… A better you, for a better mankind! Call us today for a free brochure and a C-meter reading. That’s “C” as in “cat.” … We’re coming King Falls… Be well! … And be ready.

[piano fades out]

[S&B theme]

Sammy You’re listening to King Falls AM and we are opening up the phone lines to you. 424-279-3858.

Ben We’ll be talking about the apparent crop circle- situation at Libbydale Farms. As well as if any of you out there have had any experience with this phenomenon.

Sammy So give us a call or tweet us @kingfallsam. So, you’ve heard our story, now let’s hear yours.

Ben Line 3.

Sammy Good evening, you’re live with Sammy and Ben.

Cynthia Good evening? For who? Certainly not King Falls!

Sammy Hi, Cynthia. How ‘bout you tell us how you really feel tonight.

Cynthia Weellll, to be honessst, I’m a little rattled over these gang signs the aliens are leaving on our turf. Literally.

Ben Cynthia— there is no way to tell if those circles are- angry orrr happy! even. They’re *huff/laugh* just symbols.

Cynthia So’s a swastika, Ben Arnold. Get your head out of your tuchus!

Sammy Okay, obviously, we aren’t trying to raise alarms here, Cynthia. It’s just, uh— it’s an interesting story. Especially here in our backyard. Would you not agree? Uh, you know, it’s not every day you can see this kind of handiwork – man-made or otherwise.

Cynthia You two sound sooo happy. We’re getting tagged in an intergalactic war and all of us in the Falls are sitting around at ground zero.

Ben I- don’t think that’s fair t—

Cynthia That’s the problem! You just. don’t. think! It’s all Tim Jenson’s fault, I just know it. We didn’t have any flying saucer, land-tattooing bedlam before he chased those lights.

Ben He didn’t “chase” anything! He was driving from work and called to report on a breaking news story.

Cynthia Watch your tone, Ben. I’ll buy one of those rabid, disease-ridden sugar flyers and toss it in Lake Hatchenhaw. just to spite you!

Sammy Goodnight, Cynthia.

Ben Sugar glider. And- they are. illegal.

Cynthia So are illegal aliens, but you’re just getting ready to throw ‘em a parade! I can’t! I just can’t! [click]

[dial tone]

Sammy Heh, alright, uh… Line 12, you’re live on King Falls AM.

Emily Hi, Sammy! Hi, Ben!

Ben Emily! I–I didn’t realize you were back in town!

Emily I just got back. I was listening on the way in! My mom and I actually drove by the farm and saw all the commotion over there. Police; reporters— big lawn-mower thingies…

Ben Lawn mowers?

Sammy Uh, y’ know, if you don’t mind me asking, Emily, why were you out of town?

Emily Oh, I flew out to Buford, Wyoming,[1] for the annual small town librarian expo! And I had my mom pick me up from the airport since— Ben was on the air.

Sammy Wow. So you guys are in the taking and picking up from the airport stage of yourrr—

Ben Friendship. Is that the- word- you’re- searching for, Sammy?

Sammy [kinda smug] Thaaat was exactly the one, Ben.

Emily *soft laugh* You guys are so silly. But I just wanted to say “hi” and tell Ben I’m back home now!— Oh! And starting next week, I’ve got a whole bunch of fun activities I learned from the expo to start doing at the library! Hopefully we can get some of the scared kids back now.

Ben I’ll call you later, Emily.

Emily Goodnight, Ben! Night, Sammy!

[click, dial tone]

Sammy Emily Potter, ladies and gents. King Falls Librarian and Ben’s… Friend.

Ben [shyly] Yeah-yeah… Lucky Line 1, you’re on King Falls AM.

Greg Hey, guys! It’s Greg Frickard!

Sammy Hi, Greg! You know, we appreciate you running the ads on the show, sir. It’s so nice to meet youuu… uh, over the phone, of course.

Greg Thanks, Sammy! I— think— we’ve- talked before, and uh, glad to run the spot! Me and Granny Frickard love the show! You should hop on down to the Froggery and we’ll hook ya up!

Sammy I might have to take you up on that offer, Greg!

Greg We’d love to have you! You too, Ben…

Ben Greg, you’re a lifelong King Falls resident… w-we’ve been talking about the crop circles out at –

Greg Oh I know. I’ve been listening, but— I was actually calling about- sssomething else— if that’s okay.

Sammy Uh, yyyeah. Sure thing, Greg. What’s on your mind?

Greg Well, I heard Ben and Miss Potter a second ago and they made a— declaration of friendship? Is that correct?

Sammy Oh! U-uh. Is- this about Emily?

Ben [suspicious] Did you- call before, when Emily was in the studio, Greg?

Greg Uh, noo… *nervous laugh* that must have beeeen… somebody else. But is that true, Ben? Are you and Miss Potter just friends?

Ben [terse] Good friends. *tsk* Close. Friends… Real close.

Greg Huhhh! … Well th- okay! That’s all I needed to know! Thanks a million, buddy.

Sammy Hey— Greg. You didn’t have a comment orr—

Greg Oh, no, no! I j— *chuckles* I don’t know the first thing about crop circles and— what-have-you. Uhh, it’s real interesting and all! but- Miss Potter’s lovely voice just… [sighing dreamily] speaks to me. I always just assumed that Ben and Emily were… “bf” and “gf” respectively, *laughs* but… if that’s not the case, thennn…

Sammy Ben? You okay?

Ben I don’t like putting our— personal lives out there in the public eye…

Greg Well, gee, Ben, I’m— only asking because ifff you’re into friendship with the lovely Miss Potter, and— I’m afraid, uhhh, I might just have to be into courtship. *chuckle* Granny wants to see me married before going into the great By-and-By—

Ben Bye-bye to you too! Greg. Looks like we lost line—

Greg I’m still here, pals! Now about that thing—

Ben [click, dial tone] Line 7, you’re on King Falls AM?

Sammy Did you just hang up onnn—

Ben I would never. LINE 7.

Herschel I’d like to place a complaint, rrright this instant.

Sammy Herschel?

Ben Is everything okay, Mr. Baumgartner?

Herschel Would I call into you nincompoops if everything was hunky-dory?

Ben I guess not… No.

Sammy So, what seems to be the issue, Herschel?

Herschel All this yackin’ about G-D UFOs and crop circles, for starters. Makes my damn d[bleep]k itch.

Sammy Sir! This is—

Herschel Did you call me to tell me what to think, comrade? Or did I call you to talk about an issue?

Sammy Please continue, Mr. Baumgartner…

Herschel Thank you. So, I’m out on the lake tonight— got up brright and early, so I could make sure I got my special spot.

Ben “Got up early”? It’s— just now a little past 2…

Herschel You the sleep police?! Ya little bastard… I thought not.

Ben Sorry, Herschel.

Herschel So I’m trollin, out on the… well. That parts Top Secret, boys. But I’m trollin, so I don’t scare the bigguns away, and those g[bleep]ddamn sons of b[bleep]chin’ rainbow lights start blowin’ through the sky. Looked like Joseph’s Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat[2] was fightin’ that big Jap lizard!

Sammy Godzilla? Please don’t use derogatory wor—

Herschel McCarthy[3] would’a skinned your ass alive, you Red[4] sack ‘a sh[bleep]t! Can I tell my story?!

Sammy Of course, I’m just asking you not to—

Ben [quickly] I’m on the button. Sammy. Heh. Herschel’s gonna Herschel!

Sammy Okay. So, you saw the lights tonight…

Herschel Saw ‘em? Hell. They scared the literal piss out of me. Got a trickle down my Carhartts[5] look like the state of Florida. I’m out here naked as a jaybird! Not a fish in sight.

Ben I’m sorry, did you just reference a musical, Mr. Baumgartner?

Herschel Oh, just ‘cause I like some colorful metaphors, means I can’t be refined, Ben?!

Ben I wasn’t— I didn’t– im-imply— I’m-I’m just saying—

Herschel [softly, for Herschel] Ol’ Mrs. Baumgartner, (god rest your sexy soul, Edna), used to love those hippy-dippy singing plays. And I’d do anything to keep in those pants, fellas.

Sammy Oh, god.

Ben Awww. [pleading] Can we get back to the lights?

Herschel That Edna. Oh, lemme tell ya… Oh! Uh, yeah– the damn lights! Yeah, so, I saw ‘em. What the hell else am I supposed to tell ya about it?!

Sammy Well, you were calling to complain about them, I’m sure.

Herschel That’s right! I’d like to report that no-good drunkard! Cecil Sheffield! Called that cumbersome ass-wart damn near 15 times to come bring me a pair of skivvies to no avail! Avoiding my calls and his duties as the co-winner of this damn boat!

Ben It’s— so late, Mr. Baumgartner. I’m-I’m sure he’s sleeping now.

Herschel You would take up with him!

Sammy W-well, Ben’s just sayin’ that he isn’t avoiding you so much as he’s, you know— probably asleep.

Herschel Sleeping one off! Soggy son of a b[bleep]h. He knows if I ring the special line, it’s a damn emergency.

Ben So, you guys have made up?

Herschel Made up my ass! If he’s gonna be “co”-anything with Herschel F. Baumgartner, that tally-whacker’s gonna have to keep up his end of the bargain.

Sammy To be at your beck and call in case you… soil yourself…

Herschel Don’t be crass!

Ben So, you guys are actually sharing the boat? That’s awesome! I figured you only—

Herschel I ain’t sharin a damn thing with that son of a b[bleep]h! Stop stirrin’ the pot or I’ll make what Charlie did to John McCain look like foreplay, Ben Arnold!

Sammy So, to the point. You’re calling to complain about Cecil because he’s sleeping through your time of need?

Ben But! He is corroborating seeing the lights, Sammy! That’s a big deal.

Herschel Just have an intern or something bring me some britches and stop fiddle fu[bleep]ing fuss! 32 long! I’ll be at Begley’s. He’s probably peering out his window lookin for a damn show… I don’t like beige! [click]

[dial tone]

Sammy You’re on King Falls AM with Sammy and Ben.

Riley Please hold the line for Mayor Grisham.

Sammy This again?

Ben *groans*

Sammy You know, I wonder, do you wake him when we say special keywords, or…?

Riley Mayor? You’re on with Sammy and Ben.

Grisham Sammy. Ben. I hate to rain on your little topic of discussion tonight, but let’s shut it down. It’d be much appreciated.

Ben What??

Sammy The always-fair, Mayor Grisham, folks. Remember this come election time next year.

Grisham Do you think that a public servant should have to call the local “Tom & Joe Chucklehut Show” to ask them not to jeopardize a police investigation?

Sammy Do you ever call Channel 13 and tell them what to report and how? We are a topical late night talk show, Grisham.

Grisham Mayor.

Sammy I didn’t vote for you.

Grisham Fair enough. I don’t expect you to respect anything but your own pathetic grab for ratings. Now, regarding Channel 13—

Ben Sorry, Mayor. Obviously, Sammy is flustered. He wouldn’t have used such a bad example if he was thinking straight—

Grisham The answer to your question, Sammy, is no. I wouldn’t call in and tell a reputable news agency how to do their job. BUT, amazingly enough, I continue to have to ask you to stop your rhetoric— seemingly once a month or so. Interesting, don’t you think?

Ben You do realize the only people that watch Channel 13 are drunks that can’t find the remote and animals left alone with the TV on, right?

Grisham Whatever helps you sleep better, Ben. I can tell you for a fact that, right now, Storm Sanders is probably not working a “local yokel” interview and digging up the muck. He’s reporting on city ordinance 29.44371.

Ben Storm is knee deep in a barrel of backyard bathtub hooch during commercial breaks.

Sammy So, Mayor. What is this ordinance? Ya know, since we aren’t reporting the news to your liking, give us a glimpse into what works for you.

Grisham The add-on to the local YMCA? The new menu over at Rose’s! I’m not paid a handsome salary to do your job.

Sammy Oh, right! I forget you think you can dictate what we report on, for free.

Ben Sammy… they’re destroying the crop circles! That’s the ordinance!

Grisham There’s hope for you yet, Ben. Don’t go down with this ship. I’ll put a good word in for you elsewhere.

Sammy You son of a b[bleep]h! You’re destroying the crop circles?! That could be the only thing that brings Tim Jenson home!

Grisham Don’t bring Tim Jenson into this! The city is paying Libbydale Farms a fair share for their remaining crops! But it is in the public’s best interest to mow down this batch of mischief accordingly! Especially after this broadcast.

Sammy *derisive scoff/laugh* You are despicable.

Grisham These affairs aren’t your business to ramble on about… Do the weather! Talk about traffic! I mean, I filled those potholes! Stop making trouble!

Sammy Freedom of the Press. When your assistant isn’t typing out our every word, maybe have her look it up and tell you all about it.

Grisham I can’t wait to hear about it! And here’s a little phrase for you to look up too! OBSTRUCTION OF JUSTICE.

Sammy Uh-huh.

Grisham Do you think using your connections to officers of the law to report on “breaking news” is fine and dandy, Stevens?? *sniffs* You are perverting the course of this case. Things— especially ongoing issues— aren’t meant to be talked about until all the facts are out there! And you— *sniffs* IDIOTS are playing on the scene, reporting with your bagel-eating buddy! who happens to be a cop.

Ben *scoffs* ‘s not my buddy.

Sammy BEN.

Ben I’m not throwing you under the bus, Sammy. I just hate Troy.

Grisham So, the moral of the story would be, gents… some things require couth. Some things require kid gloves when handling. And most things don’t need to be aired in the public for ratings and entertainment. A perfect example being how, I’m sure Sheriff Gunderson will handle Deputy Krieghauser on his own, for calling into this joke of a show with police business constantly. Doubt you’ll see that done during a press conference.

Ben Uh… is that… really necessary, sir?

Grisham This show is a breeding ground for incompetence, and you’re now dragging your pals down with you. Straighten Up and Fly Right.

Sammy Troy doesn’t need to be punished for you to make your point, Grisham.

Grisham Out Of My Hands… I’ve already had Riley send my opinions on it over to the good sheriff! Now again, I ask you: pick a different topic of discussion. Maybe one that won’t lead to the continued pain and misery for all those around you. Night night, fellas! [click]

[dial tone]

Sammy [quickly] I’m gonna call Troy.

Ben Umm, uh *nervous stuttering* W-we’ll be back after this— King Falls. We’ll- we’ll take some- calls about uhh… *helpless scoff* I guess we’ll- see…

[KFAM outro]

[CREDITS]

References

[1] Buford, Wyoming - “America’s Smallest Town”, Buford is mostly just a convenience store/gas station. The population was 1-2 from ~1995 until it was completely abandoned in 2017.

[2] Joseph’s Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat - Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat is a musical comedy with lyrics by Tim Rice and music by Andrew Lloyd Webber. The story is based on the "coat of many colors" story of Joseph from the Bible's Book of Genesis.

[3] McCarthy - Joseph Raymond McCarthy was a Republican U.S. Senator from 1947 until his death in 1957. Beginning in 1950, McCarthy became the most visible public face of the “Red Scare”, a period in the United States in which Cold War tensions fueled fears of widespread Communist subversion. He is known for alleging that numerous Communists and Soviet spies and sympathizers had infiltrated the United States federal government, universities, film industry, and elsewhere.

[4] Red - Communist

[5] Carhartts - Carhartt, Inc., is a U.S.-based apparel company founded in 1889. Carhartt is known for its work clothes, such as jackets, coats, overalls, coveralls, vests, shirts, jeans, dungarees, fire-resistant clothing and hunting clothing.

[littledarlinwrites]

Black Velvet Miniseries

Part 1: Kickstart My Heart

Black Velvet Miniseries Masterlist

Rockstar!Bucky Barnes x Photographer!Reader

Word Count: 3287

Author’s Note: This is for @kentuckybarnes 3K Writing Challenge. Hannah, thank you so much once again for allowing me the chance to participate and giving me the idea of a Rockstar!Bucky, without you this never would have been written. Also, special thanks to my wonderful beta reader @lokissoul for reading this over and reminding me not to get so stuck in my and be more confident in my writing, you’re a doll! Also, a final tag for @star-spangled-bingo for my Rockstar AU square. 

Summary: The Avengers start their first tour after making their big break. They say Rockstars never die, but is that true? Will the band recover after having it all to nearly losing their lives in one night?

Warnings: I don’t want to give anything away, but there is a car/bus accident scene in here, and therefore a bit of angst. Let me be clear that nobody dies though. Emotional Bucky.

They had it all. The crowd was wild, they were covered in sweat, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You’ve all been great tonight! Let’s hear it for everyone that helped put on this show though!” The crowd erupted into cheers that shook the floor beneath Steve’s feet. “Remember to tip the wait staff and don’t text and drive!” Steve bade the crowd his goodnight parting words before walking off the stage. The rest of the band was backstage packing up their instruments and wiping the sweat off their faces. The post-show adrenaline was pumping through their veins and they felt untouchable. They had been working so hard for this break, and the pay off tasted sweeter than they thought possible.

“That was awesome!” Clint exclaimed pumping his fist that was gripping a broken drumstick. His face was still beat red from the exertion of playing his heart out on his drum set. Bucky chuckled at the man’s antics before speaking up himself.

“That was more than awesome, man. I’ve never felt more alive!” Bucky said jumping to his feet after closing his bass guitar case.

“Alright guys, hate to kill the vibe, but we’ve got to get a move on tonight so we can get to the next venue and beat traffic!” Pepper said while directing the crew and answering questions. A chorus of groans followed her statement.

“Guys, I’m sure Pepper wouldn’t mind the party continuing on the bus, where there are two fully stocked mini bars I might add!” Tony spoke up before kissing Pepper on the cheek. Pepper managed the band, and Tony worked lights and tech, but they worked together on getting everybody to one place.

“Anyone touch my vodka and I’ll bash your head in with my guitar.” Natasha piped up, her arms wrapped around Bruce, but loosening their hold.

“Don’t worry my Song Bird, I already hid it,” Bruce said smiling. Natasha wrapped her arms around him tightly again before pulling away to pick up her guitar and head towards the tour bus to snag the shower before anyone else did.

“Hey Tony, is there any mead in those mini bars?” Thor secretively asked with his guitar case slung over his back.

“Bottom shelf, buddy.” Tony tells him before Thor walks away nodding to him with a smile. Clint joined him as the crew hauled away his broken down drum set, talking to Thor about the third song in their set.

“Looks like it’s you and me pal.” Steve spoke to Bucky as they began making their way to the bus.

“I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, pal, but tomorrow night we are getting dates.” Bucky said with a chuckle, causing Steve to break out into a laugh.

“Let’s go before they drink all the booze. You know Thor is a bottomless pit.”

“I still swear that guy isn’t human with his tolerance.”

As Steve and Bucky joined the others on the tour bus drinks were thrusted into their hands by Tony. Clint and Thor were still avidly talking about the set they had just performed. Natasha was sitting beside Bruce, her hair still wet and eyes glued to her phone to mess with the playlist that was booming through the speakers. Tony pulled Pepper over to the couch and pulled out a deck of cards and motioned to Steve and Bucky asking if they wanted to play. Considering the male to female ratio, and the fact that the women there were spoken for they played a different version of strip poker, instead of stripping they would drink. Steve had a surprisingly good poker face, much to the chagrin of Thor. Natasha had the best poker face, while Bruce had the worst. So far Thor and Bruce were tied at how much games each of them lost. Natasha and Bucky were tied at how many games each of them won. Clint was texting on his phone not even paying attention to the game any longer. Pepper was talking to the driver about where they had to go next and the itinerary for the next couple of days, and Tony and Steve were trying to out-maneuver the other. Eventually Tony threw down his cards in frustration.

“That’s it lady and gents, I’m out for the night.”

“Sounds like someone’s tired of getting their butt kicked to me.” Steve said, not quite under his breath, mockingly. Tony shot Steve a dirty look and began to open his mouth when Pepper sat on his lap completely halting his train of thought. Bucky clapped his hand on Steve’s shoulder before announcing that he was heading to bed before he got dragged into another game. Clint seconded him and followed Bucky to the back of the bus and claiming the bottom center bunk. Tony began feeling drowsy from the alcohol in his system and decided to make his leave.

“Pep’ honey, I’m gonna go grab a bunk in the back, join me?”

“As soon as we cross state lines, shouldn’t be too long now. Save me some room?”

“You betcha.” Tony hums to her before giving her a kiss goodnight and making his way to the bunk that was sounding cozier by the second. Steve helped Pepper clean up the poker game and various empty glasses. Thor was reading a book on one couch while on the other Natasha was running her hands through Bruce’s hair, who had fallen asleep on the couch beside her. Beside Pepper at the sink Steve spoke up while rinsing out some of the glasses..

“I know I’ve thanked you before Pepper, but we wouldn’t be here on this tour bus without you. I don’t know how you manage to deal with us all sometimes, but I just want you to know that we all appreciate it.”

“Thank you, St-” Pepper was suddenly cut off from a resounding bang from the back of the bus and the bus then lurching violently forward throwing Steve and Pepper off their feet and to the floor. The bus slowly came to a stop on the eerily silent highway.

“Everyone okay?” The tour bus driver shouted out while checking his rearview mirrors before looking behind him into the bus.

“Uhm, I don’t know. What the hell was that?” Steve spoke up as he helped Pepper to her feet. Pepper looked around before making her way to the back of the bus. Steve walked up to the bus driver.

“Looks like a semi behind us, must have hit us. I’m gonna step out and see how bad it is and call 911.” The bus driver said before letting himself off the bus with his phone in hand. Steve turned around when he heard a blood-curdling scream that made his blood run cold. He ran to the back of the bus where Pepper stood frozen. Clint was trying to guide her out of the bunk area when Steve noticed the thin line of blood coming from his ear and panic shot through his veins. Steve looked into the bottom right bunk that was at the very back of the bus and what he saw made his heart stop. Inside Bucky's bunk was not only Bucky, but part of the semi that crashed into the tour bus. A very pale Bucky laid in his bunk knocked out and his left arm was missing. Steve reached out two fingers to his best friends neck looking for a pulse. His hands were shaking so much he almost didn’t feel the faint pulse, but when he did he let out a sigh of relief. Steve began pulling his belt from his waist before carefully climbing over bucky and using it as a makeshift tourniquet to keep Bucky from losing anymore blood. Steve knew from his mom being a nurse that no matter how much he wanted to get his best friend out of there that he had to leave him there for the paramedics, otherwise he could risk paralyzing Bucky if he wasn’t already. Steve took a deep breath and did the hardest thing he’s ever had to do in his life and turn his back to Bucky. He took a step forward and looked into the bunk that caused Pepper to scream. Tony laid there with pieces of shrapnel in his chest. For the second time that night Steve reached out with two fingers to find a pulse. Tony’s pulse was also faint, but it was still there. At that moment Steve heard the sound of sirens quickly approaching and prayed that his friends would get to a hospital in time.

With Bruce in front, Natasha road with Pepper in the back of the ambulance carrying Tony to the hospital while Thor took the front and Steve and Clint road in the back of the ambulance that carried Bucky. Before Steve knows it, they’re at the hospital and Bucky and Tony are rushed back into the OR while Clint is ushered to the ER and the rest are left in the waiting room. Steve sits in the chair wringing his hands. Staring at them. He can’t help but be disgusted with the amount of Bucky’s blood that is still on them. He gets up and heads to the restroom to wash them and scrubs them until they are raw. He walks back into the waiting room and eye’s the group. Natasha had headed to the ER room that Clint was in to check on him. Thor was pacing the room. Bruce was outside smoking a cigarette, a stress habit he had quit a couple of months ago, but tonight it was back in full swing. Pepper sat in the corner crying constantly looking up at the clock or the doors every time she heard a shoe squeak across the shiny tile floor. The hospital had that sterile smell hanging in the air that made Steve’s stomach lurch. He took a seat, put his head in his hands, and waited.

An hour and a half later, Clint and Natasha join them in the waiting room. Clint silently takes a seat beside Steve and leans forward to put his head in his hands. Steve looks to Natasha having noticed the devastated look on Clint’s face. Natasha fixed the grimace from her face and took a deep breath before she spoke, leaning into Bruce for comfort.

“The accident caused Clint’s eardrums to rupture. That’s why there was blood, he uhm, he’ll need hearing aids to be able to hear again.” Bruce wrapped his arm tighter around Natasha to comfort her. Steve shook his head before putting a comforting arm around Clint’s shoulders. Clint looked up at Steve, and he saw his bloodshot eyes. The night seemed like it would never end. Another hour and a half later, a doctor still in scrubs walks out of the OR doors. Everyone’s heads lift up and their stomachs fill with dread. In this moment they would find out the status of one of their friends. And they weren’t ready for the news if it was bad.

“Barnes family?” The doctor called out. Steve raised to his feet and made his way over to the doctor. He felt as if his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

“Is he-” Steve clears his throat as he trips on the words. “Is he okay, doc?”

“He no longer has a left arm. He’ll have to stay in the hospital for at least the next two weeks as he recovers. He’s gonna be in a lot of pain, however, he should make a full recovery. As soon as the nurses get him situated in a room one will come out and take you to him. He wouldn’t be here if someone hadn’t fastened their belt as a tourniquet. I’m not gonna sugar coat it, he’s got a long road ahead of him, son.” The doctors noted somberly before walking away. Steve lets out a breath he’s been holding and his shoulders drop slightly from all the tension he had been holding in anticipation. Natasha walked up to Steve to see what the doctor had said fearing the worst.

“He’s okay.” Steve managed to croak out before tears of relief shed down his face. Natasha wrapped her arms around him while shooting the others behind him a thumbs up to let them know Bucky was okay. The sigh of relief from the group was audible, and as the doctor said, a nurse was out shortly taking Steve, Natasha, and Clint to Bucky’s room. Another painstaking forty-three minutes later another doctor walks out of the OR.

“Stark?” The doctor called out looking around the room.

“Uh, yeah, that’s uhm, that’s me.” Pepper spoke up clumsily.

“He made it out of surgery fine and we were able to remove most of the shrapnel. There are a few pieces left behind that were too difficult to risk removing so he’ll have to get regular doctors visits to keep an eye on them, but other than that he should make a full recovery. A nurse will be out shortly to let you know where his room is.” Pepper let out an audible cry of relief at the news, throwing her arms around Bruce in a hug. Thor wrapped his arms around the both of them.

Steve sat on Bucky’s right at his bedside listening to the strong and steady beat of Bucky’s heart. He could hear Clint tapping his fingers to the steady rhythm against his legs, he didn’t know if Clint could hear the loud beeping or if it was a result of him watching the heart monitor. Everything was sinking in for Steve and he was exhausted. However, he couldn’t wrap his mind around how fast things had changed in an instant. Steve didn’t know what they were going to do for once in his life.

The next couple days passed by in a blur. Tony was the first to wake up, and Pepper couldn’t stop crying when she saw him open his dark chocolate brown eyes. Another day later Bucky woke up only to be sedated when he started panicking when he saw a doctor and noticed his missing arm. He slept for another day before he woke up again. Steve was more prepared for his reaction this time, and was the first person he saw instead of some stranger. When Steve explained to Bucky what happened Bucky started crying. He didn’t like crying in front of people, but the weight of everything seemed to crash down around him. Everything they had been working for was gone. He couldn’t play his bass guitar anymore, Clint couldn’t hear, Tony would be living in fear that a piece of leftover shrapnel could kill him one day. Bucky couldn’t even begin to wrap his mind around the fact that his arm was gone. The phantom pain taunted him and was a constant reminder that he would never be the same. Eventually the doctor got him set up with a special type of physical therapy for amputees. They called it mirror box therapy, basically Bucky would complete physical therapy in front a of a mirror to re-map neural pathways in his brain so his mind could register that his limb was no longer there. At first it just seemed like another cruel reminder to him. He hated looking at himself in the mirror now.

Once Bucky completed his physical therapy his doctor talked to him about a new arm. There was an experimental program for a prosthetic that would allow Bucky to have some feeling and potentially be able to play his guitar again. Bucky jumped at the opportunity and the doctor put him in contact with Doctor Shuri who would have the new prosthetic fitted for him and would help him adjust to his new life style.

It took Bucky a bit to get used to his new arm, but it didn’t lack dexterity and the first day with his new arm he locked himself in his room in the apartment he shared with Steve and practiced strumming on his guitar. It was clumsy at first, he often pressed down on more than one chord when he didn’t mean to. He almost gave up until Steve suggested plucking with his metal arm and putting the fret in his right. It took some adjustments, and Bucky had to get his guitar re-stringed so the strings would be in the correct order again, but slowly he regained his first real sense of normalcy. It took months, but eventually the guys in the band started practicing again. Clint had to adjust the sensitivity of his hearing aids a couple times, and Bucky fumbled more than he’d like to admit, but eventually the band hammered out the basics of covers of songs they knew by heart that helped them get noticed, and some original songs of theirs.

When the first anniversary of the accident came they had a bonfire on Clint’s farm in upstate New York. They sat around the fire talking about life and eventually talking about the shows they played. They missed it. They missed playing in front of a crowd. They missed the adrenaline after the show. By the end of the night, they called up Pepper with their decision that within six months, they would be back on the road. They had been practicing, that had healed, and they had the workings for a new album. Steve had dealt with the accident by not only writing music, but drawing up album artwork that at the time he thought would never see the light of day.

The following week the band met up at the studio and locked themselves away for 3 weeks working on the new songs until the album was finished. Pepper began contacting and booking venues. The band was worried that with the accident happening so soon after their break into the industry they may have slipped off the radar. That was until the most esteemed rock music magazine contacted Pepper when they caught buzz that the band would begin playing again. Shield magazine had interviewed the likes of Marvin Gaye, Nirvana, Foo Fighters, Motley Crue, Led Zeppelin, and countless others that the band looked up to. The magazine wanted to send out an interviewer and photographer to their first show to get their comeback story. Pepper granted them access, and the band was simultaneously more excited and more anxious for their first show. Bucky was a bundle of raw nerves. He was terrified that people would look at him differently with his prosthetic, or that he would fumble and screw up the show in front of a huge audience considering the show had sold out the day tickets were released. The night of the show Bucky thought he might actually throw up on stage. Steve had to give him a pep talk to calm him down.

“You’re gonna do fine Buck. You’ve put in countless hours practicing and dare I say, you may even sound better now than you did before. You got this man. Either way, I’m with you ‘til the end of the line.” Steve told Bucky with his hands on his shoulders. Steve knew how insecure Bucky was about his arm, always covering up the black and gold-toned prosthetic.

“Thanks punk.” Bucky replied to Steve after taking a deep breath. Bucky pulled his bass out of its case and slung the strap around his right shoulder. He practiced a few runs to calm his nerves before plugging his bass into the amp. Each of the band members took one last look at each other heading on stage for the first time since their lives had changed twice in one night.

Tags:

@letstalkaboutsebbaby @itsbuckysworld @caitfairwrites @xxloki81xx

[mellowgirl01]

🍷 Sweet Wine 🍷

Master List     Pt. 1

❌❌Warning: Death/ funerals/ Gore❌❌

Word count: 3143

Characters: 15440

People: Adam x Y/N x Eve

Made for: @ladyfluff

Tag: @ladyfluff @may-bereblog @jaquellejohnson @mousee555 @littlefrogstuff

Request:No

Date:4/8/19

Summary:

This is may be the end but it’s the beginning of forever

A/N: And this ladies and gents is the ending. Since it was so long I made my final part 2 for such an amazing first serious. I really do hope that more people come in and or stay with me in the long run. I loved this and it was the fist FF that I ended so it really does mean a lot to me from your comments and re-blogs and hearts. Thank you. After this I will be taking requests so don’t be shy and feel free to ask. Even if it’s smut.- xoxo Mellow

Y/N P.O.V

As I looked all around Adam’s office I smiled thinking of the many ways that he met all of his so called heros. Well I guess they are rather, heroes of literature, art, and music. Saving lives one at a time with just their talent and a love for it. Down stairs I could hear Adam play his violin and other many instruments. He had been down ever since Eve moved back to Tangier. We were oth sad when she left of course, but understood. Everything was fine now and she still had her home to take care of. I can still see his face when she left. Sad and a little heartbroken. more than he usually was. It was my tun to take care of him and make sure that he wasn’t in his head all the time. I thought that while I was up here I might as well do some snooping. I figured that he wouldn’t mind since it was me..right?

Looking down to his desk I went to go and open his drawer. To my surprise it was open and not locked. He must have unlocked it once Ava left. Adam was forever a secret, even to me and Eve he was always like a book filled with blank pages that needed a special light to see what was written down in it. But that said light was locked away in a volt down in the ocean. So as annoying as it sounds it was just as annoying trying to talk him out of getting more into the real world. I would take him out with me at night just on some midnight snack runs. It was babysits and for that I was proud of him but I needed to know what he might like so that I can show him that the world may be bad but it’s a lot worse when your the only one sulking in the thought of the world being so barren and dark. So looking through his many journals and books to me was a mandatory. If I wanted him to look forward to the future then I might as well give him a little push in the right direction then let him do the rest.

I skimmed through the pages taking down some notes in a blank notebook that sat on top of the desk and was quick to write them all down just incase he decided to come up and see what kept me. Even through the past week I was reading some of the books he had and listening to the music he favored. He had no reason to wonder what I was doing and I guess thought that It was just my way of connecting with him more. In a way it was but it won't my only reason. Icumbled the notes i took down and placed them on the inside of the leather jacket Adam gave me. Heading down the stairs and grabbing my bag for when I would sleepover. Smiling at him and giving him a kiss on the cheek as I stood ready to go home for the night.

With this he didn’t look to pleased as usual but I cocked my eyebrow to let him know that I just wasn't in the mood for his ‘but you can stay with me talk’. I had work in the morning and needed to rest in the house that I PAYED FOR. Thankfully he stayed quiet all except for a loud grunt while getting up and getting his keys and glasses. Was he never too cool?

As we drove down the road I looked to him and smiled. Probably sensing my stair he looked back at me for a moment before looking back to the road.

“What?”

“Your cute face.”

He chuckled

“I’m everything but cute. Now you~ on the other hand you're adorable.”

“Yeah you're a grouch.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.”

Another chuckle escaped his lips before silence filled the air again. He rolled down the windows a bit since the car did feel a bit warm with the summer weather approaching. He looked so beautiful with the many streetlights that passed by him. Forever beautiful..forever..

It never occured to me until now that I wouldn’t have that with him, or Eve..What the fuck do I do now? They had technically had just gotten me back and soon another version of me would be taking the spot that I was in. The thought hurt me, of them having to start all over again with someone new that might not even love them back. How long would they have to wait? Would they even work out? Would they be beautiful? More than me? No..I have given a Love to them that I know cannot be replaced. The old me was the same way. She was irreplaceable and won’t ever come back again. Now it’s my turn to feel the love that was stolen from her. To feel the love that I deserve. The thing was as I began to think about this Adam started to hum a tune that he loved. The radio was on was was the only light in the car that worked. This! I never wanted this to end. The small moments like these are ones that are highly monday and for everyone else could be easily forgotten but not for me. These moments are mine. Adam and Eve are mine! How in the hell am I gonna keep them? Maybe-

“Alright dove, like you asked. Home.”

“Wha?”

“We're here. What’s wrong you don’t wanna leave now?”

“Ah no it’s not that it’s just. I wanna..never mind goodnight.”

“Y/N, hey wait!”

I heard him calling out my name but I didn’t pay him any mind. I was quick to walk into my apartment and get upstairs. Face planting down on my bed face first I screamed into my pillow. Few minutes went by of me sobbing into my pillow about things I couldn’t change and my phone went off. I wiped my face to look at the screen and I saw that It was Adam saying ‘I’m sorry that I made a fuss about you staying, didn’t mean to make you feel so channed to me I really didn't.” The message continued but I couldn’t bring myself to read what I had done to my poor lover who didn't know what the fuck was going on in my own head! Great! Just fucking fantastic! Not only did I fuck up on trying to get Adam to open up his mind but I made him think that I was shutting him out! I sobbed a little bit more before going to sleep, crying.

That night I had a dream of a huge church and a few of my friends and long lost relatives sitting down in all black. They sat like stachues as roses both white and red scattered on tip of the black slick casket. The pastor of the church patted my shoulder and lead me up to it. Opening it I saw that there was nothing inside, when I turned to look back at the man all their was that looked back at me were eyes of black. My view shifted as He stood over my body lying in the casket. I wanted to scream but couldn’t for some odd reason. My voice stayed stuck in my lungs as he closed it. I felt as though I was falling with no end. With a loud thud I stopped and silence filled the air once more. A little glimmer of light shown in my carddle of death and i got to look at my hands to see that my skin was rotting like some type of dead animals. My nails turning black as I felt my face starting to just fall off as I tried to reach for the pieces of flesh that kept falling off. Only to no avail. The way I smelled was nothing of kindness either. The smell was like a never opened and festering can of shit and piss.

“But she was so beautiful.”

“She’ll be reborn again my starman.”

“But we loved her.”

“Adam?!! EVE?!! I’M NOT GONE!!! WAIT! PLEASE HELP ME!! PLEASEE! I DON’T WANNA DIE!!! PLEASE!!!”

“I know love. Come on.”

I kept on screaming and banging on the coffin head above me as I bugs come crawling into the cracks of the hell room I had been put in. Feasting on my dead flesh and getting into the crevices of the rotten holes that filled my body. Pounding and pounding hard onto the walls of the room I was buried in I heard the dirt splash upon the top of the coffin and make whatever light there was become dim to down me into the deepest and darkest sea of the unknown and unkind darkness. Still I screamed and begged and called out for help until I was finally woken by my next door neighbor who shook me awake. I had never been so happy to see- Sarrah..

Not really getting all that much of a good look on her I realized that she looked just like Sarah!

“Hey, it’s okay! Everything is alright! My god you must have been having the worst dream possible if you could destroy your wall like that.”

I was horrified when I looked to my left to see that in fact I punched two indents into my wall that would now have to be replaced. This was the straw that broke my back and I just started out of nowhere balling. I really wanted to be able to get my deposit for the apartment and now that was gone! Then the dream and the reality of the dream were just too much. My neighbor whose name was Lily comforted me rubbing her hand against my back.

“Jesus love you really must be going through it. What happened? Did that weirdo from last night hurt you?!!! Tell me Y/N-”

I let it slip out…

“Sarrah just stop you wouldn't understand!..I..I um I mean..”

“..How the fuck did you know? Who told you..No your just messing with me Y/N stop playing around like that! I’m serious now Y/N who in the bloody fuck her you?!”

“Adam and Eve..Sarrah..that night I got shot..you were in the room with me. What the fuck happened to you?”

Her face became the word shocked. Her eyes were As wide as the moon and her lips quivered as though she were about to cry, hell she was after a tear fell smoothly down her face and under her chin. She took her hands into mine and I noticed that they were just as dead cold as Adam and Eve’s. Putting my hand to her cheek she started crying instead of me and hugged me tighter than tight. I squealed so that she would let go of me a bit and she understood. Being so excited she pulled me to my feet and started jumping up and down screaming that I had finally remembered. I covered her mouth and sat down with her on my bed and talked with her for a bit. The clock next to my ed side said 5 AM so I only had a few more hours before I had to get ready for work. I talked with her about what happened and she did the same. Her and Bartholomew got married and are traveling one year at a time. She talked about how and where they planned on settling down forever.

“Man..so you have fragments of her memories but your not her at all?”

“Well I can’t say at all because, then I wouldn’t even know anything So I guess i'm similar just not really. We’re still different people period.”

“I see, well now that you’ve found them. Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Gonna change. Like how I did?”

“...Well. Yes, I think I-”

“No, now see that’s where you’ve already fucked up on. You have got to know whether your willing to give this all up or not. This is no joke Y/N this is serious. Blood is running low nowadays and there's more and more of us dying off as we speak. You have to be ready to take this life..If not then..Well I don’t know.”

“Teach me.”

“What?”

“Tell me what it’s like to become this, a vampire! Just only for a few weeks, then i’ll decide whether or not I wanna go through with this. PLease Sarrah!! I need to know if this is as serious as you say it is. I want Adam and Eve forever this time.Me and only me not pass me not that girl way back, me.”

Sarah nodded her head in agreement and with a smile she stared right into my eyes.

“Okay, but you have to ask them to change you.”

Within those many months I was living a double life with keeping the secret from Adam and Eve about what I was learning and how I found Sarrah and her lover again. I learned about a lot of basic thing that really wasn't that hard to understand. The reason why it took her so long too was the fact that Sarrah and her husband were always out somewhere in the night and or moonlight having the time of their lives being young forever. When she told me that I Had finally learned everything that I needed to know I felt ready too. This was it, my future that I would be going into. A new season and form that a new me then the one I look at in the mirror. Well internal rather. Getting up and waiting for Adam to come and pick me up I got dressed in something that was a bit more special. Putting on ripped stripped sweater and a long skirt with my favorite and only ankle boots I put my hair in a half bun with the rest of my hair hanging down. I tried to make myself look as cute as possible but also casual so Adam wouldn't get susice. He was a man of detail at times so he knew when something was up. I heard the horn of his car and took a deep breath before leaving my final letter to my old friends and whoever cared about my existence..Today was the day in my mind. It would start here..I left my phone, my clothes, and every single picture that I had took with me and my parents. Sarrah Said that she would vouch for me and that she would tell the landlord what fake story we came up with. Only taking my favorite stuffed animal with me and my camera. I left it all. And left the key on top of the mat and my credit card and the rest of the money I had left on the kitchen island inside..It felt so surreal, But invigorating! Exciting! Only few had ever done this and I was actually happy to say that I was one of them.

For reasons of Love..not selfish desire..just love

Walking into the house of the old victorian,I was scooped up out of nowhere by a pair of pale white and thin arms that were surprisingly strong. I didn't fight since I could already know who it was from just the sent of her coat. Hugging her back like as though I was gonna lose her, I relished in the sent of my Eve. Back in my arms, same and in one whole piece.

“I missed you sweet dove.”

“I missed you more.”

Letting each other go we saw Adam go past us slightly smiling. Going into the living room/ sound room to plop down on the couch. He was happy. I reached up to kiss Eve’s soft lips as she held onto my waist swaying with me.

“When did you get here?”

“Last night. But Adam told me that you were too tired to come over so he didn’t pick you up.”

“But I would have had the energy of a thousand cheetahs if  it was you who I got to see.”

“Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?”

“Best can of that shit that I've ever seen. I don’t even know how in the hell zombies stomached those things.”

“Don’t look at me, I have no clue either.”

We got to catch up while snuggling on the couch and I felt it was the right time for me to ask the big question.No more small talking or backing out now. Once I left the key to my apartment I also left my building’s key with Sarah as her and her hubby were out of town. So their was really no going back now.

“I wanna change..permanently. I want to become like you both.”

The room fell silent with no more laughter, or even barely breathing. Surely not from me either. I looked to both of them and their faces were the same. ‘What the fuck did she just say?’ Their reaction would have made me laugh at any other time but I knew that if I started laughing they would think it’s a joke. Adam for the first time in forever had a smile from ear to ear. As his fangs were out and without an ounce of fear or anything it seemed in his mind. He was completely all for it until Eve slapped his shoulder and raised her eyebrows.

“Eve I know what I’m getting myself into! I met with Sarrah and-”

“Sarrah!!? How in the hell is she still alive?!!”

“Please just let me finish!..My greatest fear for these past few months has been the fact that at some point and at some time I could be taken away again. At least this version of me. And if we really are about change and you both getting to know the new me? I find there no other way then to change me. I love you both and understand the consequences but I just can’t think of anyone else, with you both. Your mine and i’m yours right?..Right?!!”

Eve just looked at Adam and he sighed putting away his fangs.

“Stay here. We need to converse alone about this too.”

“Okay?..”

As they got up I stayed still down stairs. Please, please say yes..Please. I love you…

[transboygenius]

SE4SON: Chapter 9

[*Following afternoon*]

Libby and Cindy had just finished school, but before they were ready to go back home, Cindy decided they should dine out for a bit. It was Friday, and Cindy wanted to celebrate the fourth day without Neutron. She didn't even bother to ask herself where he could be, and neither has she felt the same way about Nick, but it's not like she even cared about that loser anyways. A few days without Jimmy Neutron was all she needed to properly recover. She was even in such a good mood, she said hello to Betty Quinlan as she passed. That's right, Betty Quinlan, one of Cindy's least favorites. She has never felt this good since her parents threw her that really, really expensive party for her 8th birthday, one Jimmy wasn't invited to, obviously. She can still remember her father crying from how much money he spent.

Cindy and Libby then stopped at a pedestrian post, where Cindy pressed the button and both waited patiently for the walk signal. While waiting, Jenny passed by them on her skateboard, attempted to jump over a fire hydrant, and then broke her leg. The two girls just shrugged at each other. As the walk signal flashed, Cindy and Libby crossed the street to the restaurant on the other side. It was a Japanese noodle joint called The Ramen Bowl, built in the spot McSpanky's used to be. When they entered, they were greeted by a waitress dressed in a komodo, who bowed in respect. After taking them to their seats, the girls then ordered ahead. Tempura soba for Libby, and regular pork roast ramen for Cindy, with a coupon for a free whole fishcake. Cindy also ordered a few side dishes, such as karaage and onigiri.

"Eat as much as you want, Libby! It's my treat!"

Libby should be happy, if not grateful, having to eat all of this delicious Japanese cuisine without paying for it herself, but she felt in her gut that Cindy is maybe being a little insensitive. Jimmy is still missing without a trace, and his mother is put into a deep struggle trying to find her only son. Carl and Sheen are beginning to mourn over their friend's disappearance as well. Even though nobody else missed the Neutron boy, everything has gone dull without the big headed kid around. Libby couldn't help but also worry about Jimmy. And here is Cindy, smiling brighter than a supernova, celebrating with a big meal spent with her own allowance. A child is missing, and she's acting like she just won the Nobel Prize.

"Aren't you at least bothered by Jimmy's disappearance the slightest, Cindy? I mean, the boy has been gone for four days, with no clues to speculate his whereabouts. It's like he's never gone anywhere and just got erased from reality." "Knowing those cute little goobers he calls his inventions, it could've happened by accident." "What?" "I said it's not even your problem, Libs! So why should you worry? You're not responsible for why Neutron is gone." "Look, as much as I'm not too keen on Big Head myself, I can't help but worry for his friends and family's pain. If I were missing, I can't imagine what shock it'd bring to my folks, loosing their only child they've spent 11 years raising and loving. What if something drastic happened to him? Like, he could be--" "Dead? Ohhoho, c'mon, this is the boy genius we're talking about! If he can survive a daily pummeling brought up by Butch every school day, I'm pretty sure he can survive any wonders he encounters in the big wide world! It would take more effort than a giant chicken, or a league of villains, to kill him!" "I'll give you credit for showing some concern, but this is serious. On top of that, Nick has been gone the same number of days as Jimmy's absence. Don't you find that coincidentally stran-- Hold up, girl. Can you run that by me again?" "It takes more than corny, predictable villains to snuff him out." "NO, before that!" "That he could be out there in the big wide world? Like, lost in space, or maybe a different country. Somewhere."

That's it! Maybe Mrs. Neutron hasn't looked hard enough yet! Jimmy Neutron is no ordinary preteen kid. If he's not on Earth, we know where he would be. Possibly, in a galaxy far, far away.

"Thanks for dinner, Cindy, but I gotta go take a rain check! See ya then!"

Libby got out of her seat and stormed out of the restaurant. Wherever she's going, she seemed inspired. Just as soon as Libby was gone, the food had then been served.

"LIBBY! Oh sure, bail on your best friend. Looks like more noodles for me."

And so to speak, what Libby had said earlier really crossed Cindy's mind. Nick has been gone long as Jimmy has, and just like Jimmy, no clues could be found. According to Sheen's knowledge, they both vanished on the same day. He also mentioned they were handcuffed together the last time he saw them, but how long have they been jointed? A intellectual like Jimmy would have easily gotten those cuffs off his wrists by now, and if they're still handcuffed, finding them would be no needle in a hay stack. What if they're not really missing? As any young stupid boy would do, maybe they both ran away together, as friends or enemies. Cindy's not so certain it's appropriate enough to entitle them as friends, judging from what she's seen from their interactions so far. They never socialized that much, but they never looked like they hated each other either.

Could they be somewhere up on a hilltop, in another country, performing a macho ritual by beating each other to the death for Cindy's love? Nah. Compared to Jimmy's strength, Nick would've easily creamed him, and hell knows it wouldn't last for four days. Plus, she still doesn't know whether or not Nick returns her feelings. Even if he did, she'd date him just to rub it in Neutron's face. It would be out of a crush, but she lost interest in Nick after he became washed-up. Could they be in a faraway state, made a truce, and then started their own business corporation for men who want to get their women off their backs? Nope. Two of them are both still kids, so there's no way they have enough money to open a business. Plus, how would Jimmy even talk Nick into aligning with his sexist organization? Cindy has always seen Nick as a ladies man, despite ignoring his female company.

Could they be stranded on a deserted island together, living at peace, and being happy-- No, no NO! No way! Nuh-uh! Never! That's her and Jimmy's story! She refuses to picture Jimmy being happy with someone else on a deserted island that isn't her, even if it is another boy! Wait, why does she even care? Why should she care? She doesn't love that pompous, self-righteous, know-it-all anymore. She needs to remind herself that he broke up with her for his own "selfishness." Wherever he is, good riddance to him! His whippy dip hair better not turn up in Retroville anytime soon! He can go marry Nick, for all I care! She took her chopsticks and greedily slurped at her noodles, then stuffed some karaage and a rice ball into her mouth. She barely gave herself time to chew her food. With Jimmy reentering her head, the only thing she could do at that moment was eat the memories away.

..............................

[*Seven hours earlier, during medieval times*]

Jimmy and Nick spent the night in a small barn, sleeping on beds of hay, while each had their own blankets. In the barn, they were accompanied by one cow, five chickens, and Butterscotch the horse. Butterscotch had his own blanket as well, including a pillow and a teddy bear. One of the chickens, who happened to be a rooster, woke the entire barn by letting out a good ol' fashioned cock-a-doodle-doo! Annoyed but very tired, Nick slammed his fist down on a hen sleeping next to him, thinking it was an alarm clock. Then he realized alarm clocks weren't exactly invented yet. The angered hen pecked her beak on Nick's forehead as revenge, which really woke him up. Jimmy awakened while rubbing both of his shut eyes. They got up to their feet as they stretched and yawned.

"Morning, little dude. Had a good sleep last night?" Asked Nick. "Not exactly. The hay wasn't all that comfy." Replied Jimmy. "Tell me about it. Sleep was much more comfortable when we were still handcuffed."

The two boys faced forward, and saw Rodent Girl sitting on the window, with a mug in her hand. She was staring at them, and what's scarier was she didn't blink.

"Can we help you, Miss?" Asked Jimmy. "Oh-no-need-for-that-young-gents-me-was-just-watching-you-in-your-sleep!"

And the way she talked, she sounded more energetic than usual.

"Wwwwwhy?" "Mitzi-wanted-me-to-watch-over-you-two-like-a-hawk-and-to-make-sure-there-isn't-any-funny-business-going-on-around-here-do-you-think-of-me-as-some-sick-soul-who-watches-people-in-their-sleep-for-my-own-pleasure-cuz-me-don't-do-that-me-has-decency!" "Mitz- She made you stay up here all night?" Asked Nick. "She-didn't-made-me-she-asked-me-to-she-isn't-all-THAT-mean-and-she-provided-me-with-all-this-coffee! *Sips from mug* Mmmm-this-is-some-good-define-enrichment-too-bad-these-beans-are-very-pricey-but-it's-not-like-we're-paying-for-them!"

Despite the window being opened, she exited through the main door instead. Mitzi really doesn't trust them, Jimmy thought. Will she continue doing this? The boy genius will have to build a door lock, and some shut-in windows, because how will they ever have a goodnight's sleep when some weird lady, that looks like a runaway from the circus, is watching them through the whole night? Or maybe worse; They won't wake up the next morning. And what did Rodent Girl mean by not having to pay for very expensive coffee beans? Well, it's not like all of it will even matter, anyways. Jimmy just needs to gather up the needed supplies, build a new time machine, and get away from this freak show. Also, if Mitzi can't trust them, then the boys have every right not to trust her back.

Nick performed a couple of morning routine stretches to loosen up his joints, since his limbs are still a bit rigid from being handcuffed for three days. Jimmy was inspired by Nick's workout and gave it a try himself, but since he never worked out or exercised daily like Nick has, his entire body went stiff. As much as Nick had the urge to laugh right now, he resisted and helped loosen the small boy's limbs by stretching them out himself. And yes, it was quite painful, but yet Jimmy didn't scream nor cry. Science is the only major he's good enough for, while physical activities are his weakest point. Maybe he needs to put a little more effort in P.E. for a change. Or maybe have a tall, strapping, good-looking guy like Nick show him the ropes- UGHHH, what am I doing? What am I thinking? Jimmy almost found himself infatuated for his new friend. Nick is pretty darn handsome, but Jimmy can't see himself romantically involved with someone of the same gender. Boys were meant to have girls, and girls were meant to have boys. That's what they say and that's how it has always been. Right?

After restoring Jimmy's joints, the two wandered off to find the shed that held all the stuff they need to build a new time machine. It didn't take them that long, and it was actually easy to find. Diana was there, bench pressing a wheelbarrow, the same one they carried uphill yesterday, loaded with a bunch of random junk. Actually, through Jimmy's eyes, they looked pretty useful to make a new time machine with, but they're all probably Diana's, so they should just take whatever is in the shed that will work. When Diana noticed the boys, she held the wheelbarrow midway and greeted them with a warm good morning! Jimmy and Nick returned the good morning back. Jimmy grabbed hold of the door handle and opened the shed wide. His excitement soon died down when he found that the shed was cold empty.

"Uh, Miss Diana, ma'am? Wasn't there suppose to be a lot of things in there you said we could use to make a new ride back to our home?" Asked Nick. "Huh? Oh, sorry about that, boys. I didn't know what time you'd be up by, so I'm using all this stuff for my morning warrior aerobics! I dare not to miss out on one workout, otherwise my thews will become tender-loins!" Replied Diana. "That's nice and all, but may we have them now?" Asked Jimmy. "Not now, at least not until I reach 230,000!" "And how far do you have?" "109,485 more to go!" "What are we suppose to do by then?" "We could always talk some more." Nick suggested. "Well, thee can always head inside the hut for a big, hearty breakfast Benson hast did prepare himself! His cooking's not that good, but it is satisfying. Worry not about me! I'll has't a bite as soon as I'm done here! I never consume food before workouts, because then I'd receive stretch marks and nausea." "Thank you, Diana."

Even though neither Jimmy and Nick were hungry yet, it would be nice to fuel on some protein and nutrients for energy. Actually, back in the twenty first century, Jimmy's "protein and nutrients" were sugarcoated cereals and toaster pastries, which he yearned for right now. Whatever Benson has cooking up, the boys can rest assure the meal will be decent, and overall filling. When they reached the hut, they walked right into an argument between Rodent Girl and Benson. Rodent Girl was talking normal again. The caffeine must have worn off by now.

"PORRIDGE? Again?! We have four hens, why don't we have some eggs for once? Me need protein, not this tasteless gunge!" "Add honey or fruit, if you must. You know we are on a tight budget! And as for those eggs, they are meant to be kept incubated so we couldst breed more chickens. More chickens means more rations to feed this home, plus two new guests!" "What about those two eggs you kept stored in the bottom left cupboard? You don't plan to incubate those, do ya?" "Uh, um, those are saved... ...for an emergency!" "We have an emergency right here, you liar! Me young, me hungry, and me elevating in TEENAGE HORMONES!"

Nick coughed, which then ended the argument.

"My deary me, I apologize you two had to witness that! Please forgive Miss Oona. She's going through a stage of teenage hormones! Or whatever it is that rats develop.” Said Benson. "Don't make me bite you." Replied Rodent Girl.

Nick didn't say anything and just marched up to the cupboard Rodent Girl mentioned the two eggs were stored, which then upset her.

"HEY, what are you doing with MY breakfast?! Just because you're a guest, doesn't mean you have the right to abuse your hospitality!" "Just leave it up to me, gang. I'll be sure to fix you a breakfast that will leave you full until dinner." Nick replied, juggling those two eggs.

Everyone, including Jimmy, was confused as to what Nick could make with only two eggs. By now, he could only fix an omelette for one, and that wouldn't be enough for a house of six to share. But an egg dish wasn't really what Nick was aiming for. He set the eggs down on the counter, and fetched some other ingredients; Sacks full of flour and sugar, a bottle of milk, soften butter, a salt shaker, and a tin can labeled "baking soda." Before he was ready to start, he borrowed Benson's apron. First, he cracked the eggs into a separate bowl, then beated them until they became fluffy and stiff peaks formed. Next, he folded in the sugar and melted butter. After that, he sifted the dry ingredients into the egg mixture. The milk was mixed in last. Everyone in the room watched him like he was putting on a show. When the batter was completed, he ladled some onto a hot skillet greased with butter.

Right before their eyes, he was flipping hot fluffy cakes on the stove, and made just about enough to feed an army. The arousing aroma from Nick's creation whet their appetites. Nick commanded everyone in the room to hold their plates up, and so they did. Wielding his spatula, he tossed the edible disks into the air, and pretty soon everyone's plate was stacked with fresh, thick pancakes. Benson got out some maple syrup, and began pouring. Jimmy cut off a piece and put it in his mouth. The taste was more than delicious. It was sensational. He has never tasted pancakes like this. They were beyond compare to his mom's. Nick sure is amazing. He surprisingly knew how to cook, despite his young age.

"Oooohhh! Hotcakes! You see, Benson, this kid has proven to have much more manlier savvines than you, and he's like, thirteen years old?" Said Rodent Girl, intended to offend Benson. "I'm twelve, actually." Nick corrected. "Nick, I've never tasted anything like this before. I didn't know you could cook. Why didn't you tell me?" Said Jimmy. "Well I thought, since we're friends and all, I wanted to surprise you. You're the first person, in the twenty first century, besides my mom, I've ever cooked for." "Really? Well, surprised I am! You got a hidden depth! You know, if professional skateboarding doesn't work out for ya, you could always land a career in culinary arts! How long have you been at this gig, anyways?" "Since I was nine. My mom works from 9 AM to 11 PM, which means she doesn't have time to fix me a hot meal. She leaves me with all those microwavable TV dinners in the freezer. I wouldn't say they tasted bad, but they certainly didn't taste like dinner. Or food, for that matter. By then, enough was enough, and I was really craving for Mom's authentic Brazilian dishes. So, I took her handwritten cookbook from off the shelf and tried to duplicate some of the recipes in there. I may have burned a little, twice, but I was very young. Eventually, I took a few lessons from Mom, and pretty soon I got the hang of it. As I grew older, I started to improve, and even began experimenting my own original recipes." "Experimenting, huh? Heh, the way you put it out, cooking does seemingly sound just like science. ...in a cultural sort of way."

Nick chuckled. He wasn't laughing at Jimmy, he was laughing with him. His other friends (fake friends, as he would like to call them) would've made fun of and teased him for cooking, since it's not seen as a manly hobby. Nick was a little tense that Jimmy might've ridicule his art as well, but instead he impressed him. Even better, he compared it to the thing he loves the most; Science! If Jimmy can accept Sheen for being an Ultralord fanatic, or Carl for having a llama fetish plus a creepy one-sided crush on his mom to boot, guess he can accept his new best friend being a chef, especially if the food taste good. If Jimmy ever became his, he'd prove himself to be a worthy husband. When he wakes up, breakfast will be on the table, his lunch will be warm, and dinner will still be hot when he gets home. Everyday, he would shower him with his finest desserts, and feed them to his face. But since that will never likely happen, he could always just cook for him as his friend. And his slutty tram- wife could have some too.

Before Rodent Girl was ready to dig in, she tied a napkin around her neck, poured her syrup, and some melted cheese, then positioned her knife and fork. But right there, she fell face down on her pancakes, like she had dropped dead.

"OH MY GOSH, is she alright?!" Jimmy asked, feeling concerned. "She's fine, young man. Her caffeine rush just now blew a gasket." Benson replied. "Has anyone seen Mitzi anywhere? So far we haven't seen her around lately. Unless... (...she's spying on us. ...somewhere.)" Asked Nick, holding a tray loaded with pancakes, and looking around cautiously. "She's currently at work, and she won't return until afternoon." "Well, if she's not here, looks like she's out of luck! Here Jimmy, have some more pancakes!"

Nick stacked some more flapjacks on top of Jimmy's stack, which almost covered his huge head.

"I don't think I can eat that much, Nick." "Just-make-sure-you-don't-leave-any-for-her-if-you-catch-my-drift." "What?"

Outside...

"79,326! 79,327! 79,328!"

Diana was continuing with her bench pressing. Butterscotch was now on the wheelbarrow, with a cup of tea in his hoof, to help add a little more weight. Suddenly, the scent of hotcakes pierced through her nostrils. Smells like Benson whipped up something good for once. However, she refused to give up on her routine until she's finished. Thus far, the more she indulged the scent, it brought her abdomen into grumbles. Looks like she chose the wrong day to work on an empty stomach. Whatever he's serving, it might all be gone by the time she reaches 230,000, and it didn't help that the smell was tempting. Ahhhhh, but who cares anyways? The stuff is probably fatty, full of calories, and could clog up her arteries. If breakfast is gone, she could always settle for meat, vegetables, or raw fish.

"(THE HELL WITH IT!) 229,998! 229,999! 230,000!"

She tossed the wheelbarrow aside, while Butterscotch was still on it. Now's the time to get to breakfast before it's all eaten. Her horse was very disappointed.

"*Neigggghhhh!* (That's a penalty, Missy! A penalty!)"

[itsdannyg]

James Roday on Reddit discussing Treehouse

Reddit with JAMES RODAY

I’m James Roday from Psych and A Million Little Things. I also directed two horror movies for Blumhouse’s Into the Dark Horror Anthology Series on Hulu. AMA!

JAMES RODAY: Roday here. I think. I'm typing things in a box so that seems encouraging.

JAMES RODAY: I think I'm an hour early. That's the first time in my adult life this has ever happened. I'll pop back by a little later. And I'll be READY.

JAMES RODAY: Yo! How about I knock out these early bird questions like a baller.

QUESTION (CharlotteBeer): Given your latest is part of a seasonal series, when did you start work on the script -- and how long did it take you? How did y'all settle on the Ides of March?)

JAMES RODAY: CharlotteBeer -- it all came together very quickly because of my schedule on AMLT. Got the thumbs up in April and we were shooting in early June. It was an idea I had been kicking around for years but current climate and conversation definitely opened a window and my collaborators and I jumped through it.

CharlotteBeer -- Oh, and we settled on International Women's Day. Hulu made it Ides of March.

ASSHOLE QUESTION (yanderebeats): So uh what the fuck was that scene with them putting the snake on his arm? Like what was the direction given to mcpoyle exactly, did you specifically tell him to do the worst job possible or what

JAMES RODAY: Yandererbeats -- 1. Well, the dude is tripping on psychotropes so he's seeing all kinds of shit and the ladies are using that to their advantage. 2. No, I think Jimmi Simpson is a genius and generally requires little direction from me 3 (bonus) You sure this is what you want to be doing with your time?

QUESTION (ConicalSun): What advice would you give to someone that wants to pursue work in film? Directing in particular.

JAMES RODAY: ConicalSun -- Make something. Get familiar with a camera and how to shoot. If you can afford to take a filmmaking class that provides instruction and equipment, sometimes that helps speed the plow. But I'm guessing you know what you like and don't like about movies and it's easier than ever to get out there and make your own content so give it a whirl.

QUESTION (psych-o5life): Out of every character you have ever played, which one are you most like?

JAMES RODAY: psych0-5life -- Probably the dude I'm playing now on AMLT.

QUESTION (seppukuu): What is your writing process like? Do you live out the stories in your head or, since you usually have a writing partner, do you prefer a more systematic approach that involves discussions and outlines?

JAMES RODAY: Seppukuu -- Todd and I have been writing together for over 20 years now. We have such a great shorthand that we can accomplish a lot quickly without spending much time in a room together. Vodka helps. We talk story, specific scenes and generally write the stuff we see best in our heads, respectively. Once we have a very rough draft, everything becomes much easier and the streamlining and polishing begins. That's generally when character voices really start to take shape as well.

seppukuu: In vodka veritas!

QUESTION (Nikesneaker): Hi James!

Do you have a favorite director/actor/actress that you look up to as a “hero”?

P.S. supa excited for Psych: The Movie 2

JAMES RODAY: Nikespeaker -- I grew up an enormous fan of Val Kilmer as an actor, Rick Baker and a SPX Make Up Artist and Stanley Kubrick as a director. I'd add Bergman, Wes Craven, John Landis and Quentin Tarantino to the list of directors I've really appreciated over the years and Lynne Ramsay is an absolute force of nature. I also CANNOT WAIT to see what Julia Decournau does next after RAW...

QUESTION (mooviescribe): If you were to direct another horror feature (not for Dark Horror), what type of script catches your eye?

JAMES RODAY: mooviescribe -- I will def be directing more horror. I love the genre and believe there are plenty more good stories to be told. As for scripts -- anything that moves me catches my eye. Being scared is fun but if it makes you think and feel -- that's the real fire starter

JAMES RODAY: I just realized I can reply to questions by hitting reply. This is GOOD SHIT.

QUESTION (Wizardmer): I am such a huge fan of Psych, and some of my favorite episodes were the fun homages to classic horror movies, here's lassie was my personal favorite. Was there any other horror movies you wanted to do as an episode?

How did the costume design come to life for treehouse? I loved those awesome outfits, super dope

JAMES RODAY: They let me check most all the remaining horror boxes in A Nightmare on State Street. It's just a big sloppy buffet but I loved every minute of it. Costume and mask design were the work of the incredibly talented Diane Crooke. She was one of a whole team of lady designers that elevated every element of Treehouse and I am eternally grateful.

QUESTION (UHeardAboutPluto): Have you heard about Pluto?

JAMES RODAY: That's messed up, right?

UHeardAboutPluto: James, you have made me the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Pysch is my favorite show ever, and that response from you was perfect. Thank you for being awesome!

QUESTION (AsymptoticGames): I just want to point out that I love when co-stars of some of my favorite shows hang out outside of the show. On that note, how was Dule Hill's wedding?

JAMES RODAY: Beautiful.

QUESTION (psych-o5life): Are you helping with production on Psych the Movie 2?

JAMES RODAY: Co-wrote the adventure and we're prepping it now. Steve will be directing and it's gonna be sweet.

QUESTION (bakuryu69): Hey big fan James - what drew you to directing horror. Will you be doing more work in the genre (possibly pineapple related)?

JAMES RODAY: I've been a fan of horror since I was old enough to know what movies were. Somehow convinced my mother that I loved being scared and wanted to learn how all the cool special fx and make up worked. She went for it.

QUESTION (Maxzhouse): Hey man, I really dig your work. I was wondering if you’re into writing and if so what your process looks like? Thanks mate!

JAMES RODAY: It generally looks like one inspired hour of writing a day and 23 hours of procrastination and thinking I should never write again.

Maxzhouse: Ah a man after my own heart! Thanks for answering brother, Hope the best for you and yours. Peace, love & Mercy

QUESTION (seppukuu): You said before that your high school production of Elephant Man was the most challenging acting gig you've ever done. Is this still true, and would you like to do it again now that you have considerably more experience under your belt? What would be another (type of) character you'd find most challenging/exciting to play?

JAMES RODAY: I'm too old to dip back into John Merrick's skin but man that is a tough play to pull off. Moving forward, I think characters that are well written with a real point of view (good or bad) are the ones that we all want to play as actors.

QUESTION (TheReelPliskin): Hey James. I just wanted to say you're awesome! I've been watching everything you're in or a part of ever since I saw a little movie called Rolling Kansas. Can't wait for the new Psych movie and I fell I'll hafta get Hulu now so I can see your new movies. Ok. Enough of that. Now for the question. Outside of Psych and Little Things, what is one of your personal favorite movie or show you've been a part of? P.S. . . SUCK IIIIIIT!!!

JAMES RODAY: It's gotta be Treehouse. And a tiny film I was lucky enough to be a part of a few years back called Pushing Dead directed by Tom Brown. Worth checking out. Important subject matter.

QUESTION (deadpool902): Hey James!

Quick two-part question:

What aspect of anthology storytelling entices you the most?

Were there any horror stories or films that you turned to for inspiration when directing for Into the Dark, and if so what were they?

Thanks for stopping by and I can't wait for your return to Santa Barbara!

JAMES RODAY:

The fact that, in this case, 12 different filmmakers got to come in and do anything they wanted without worrying about stepping on toes or syncing up with any of the other films

Raw, Thelma, Goodnight Mommy -- 70s horror.

QUESTION (tedlogan43): Mr. Roday - Gravy was fantastic, A Million Little Things blows my mind, and Psych is a part of who I am at my core. I wanted to ask what it is like to get to continue working with so many great professionals like Dule Hill, Michael Weston and Jimmi Simpson. Do you feel like your continued projects with them are improved by your on-going relationships with them? Thanks for the profound impact your roles have had on my life!

JAMES RODAY: I am tremendously lucky to have so many insanely talented besties. I am no dummy. I surround myself with ladies and gents that make me look way better than I deserve and will continue to do so as long as they'll let me.

QUESTION (fangirl005): What is the best thing about working on AMLT?

JAMES RODAY: The cast. And knowing that we're dealing with issues that affect so many people every day. It feels good to be a part of those conversations in even the smallest of ways.

QUESTION (jmsturm): Hi Mr Roday, big fan.

Who would win if Shawn went head to head with the Mentalist?

JAMES RODAY: Well he'd def be the comic relief.

QUESTION (TheWalkingGamefreak): Good evening James, just want to say hi

JAMES RODAY: sup

QUESTION (seppukuu): Marvel called and wants to give you half a billion dollars to direct Guardians of the Galaxy 3. Do you accept, and would you still try and shoot it in 3 weeks on a 200 dollar budget instead?

JAMES RODAY: hahaha. that's a great answer and the honest to God answer is that I'd only do it if I thought I could bring something unique or unexpected to the fanbase. Otherwise there are plenty of ladies and gents for the job.

QUESTION (FusionCinemaProd): What would you say is the most creative horror film of the last decade?

JAMES RODAY: Creative? That's pretty subjective. I'd say last years reboot of Suspiria was a pretty big creative swing that mostly succeeded IMHO. And I stand by RAW as one of the best films of the last decade, period.

FusionCinemaProd: Raw is a fantastic film. I’ll have to check Suspiria out on blu ray when it comes out here in the UK.

QUESTION (modsrfagbags): What was your favorite “Gus don’t be...” line from Psych? My favorites gotta be either “eleven and a half pound Black Forest ham” or “the 100th luftballoon”

JAMES RODAY: I am a sucker for a luft balloon

modsrfagbags: Oh shit thanks for responding

QUESTION (imdannyg): Have to admit, the torture scenes with Peter Rake (Jimmi Simpson) gave me flashbacks to your work in Blood Drive. Is there any connection there at all and/or did it prepare you in anyway for this scene in Treehouse?

JAMES RODAY: Welcome Daniel. You know I hadn't thought about it until just now. The two projects are so tonally different but I'll say this -- shooting scenes designed around a character that cannot move is challenging to say the least. Blood Drive probably did serve as a dry run for me without even realizing it.

QUESTION (seppukuu): Have you ever done special effects make-up on another person? If not, would you like to try or are you happy watching the professionals do it for you?

JAMES RODAY: I used to do it quite a bit as a kid. There's a reason I didn't end up being the next Rick Baker.

QUESTION (HippoMafia42): Hey James, huge psych fan here, I know psych the movie 2 will start production sometime this month, but when will that be? Hopefully within the week?:)

JAMES RODAY: Soon. We need a little time to find and build things.

QUESTION (miatosc): What was your favorite scene to shoot this season on a million little things?

JAMES RODAY: There were so many. My scenes with Colin the dog in the "day before" episode were especially sweet.

miatosc: haha! I was guessing any scene with Colin since he’s such a sweet dog.

QUESTION (thepineapplesplat): James! Man glad to hear your free-spirit self. Huge fan of Psych and no matter how much I’ve watched the episodes over and over it never ceases to make me smile. You were apart of a master piece and taught me to always stay true to the inner child in me. Absolute master piece!

Serious question, do you see yourself doing any meet and greets with fans in Canada? Perhaps in Vancouver where Psych was shot?

JAMES RODAY: thanks! So glad it resonated with you. As for meeting fans, I'm always happy to say hi -- I struggle with the format of conventions because I wish fans didn't have to spend their money. They already do so much by just watching and keeping shows on the air....

thepineapplesplat: Yeah definitely makes sense. Meeting you and Dule Hill is definitely on my bucket list. I’m not a huge on meeting celebrities (I think of them as regular people) but psych stars will definitely hold a place in my childhood/adolescence memories. Thanks for bringing it to life! Sorry if I seem like I’m fan girl-ing out haha!

QUESTION (seppukuu): Will we ever see a new play written (and directed) by you?

JAMES RODAY: someday.

QUESTION (psych-o5life): What was your favorite episode of Psych to film?

JAMES RODAY: Probably Dual Spires because it was the closest I'll ever get to being in Twin Peaks.

QUESTION (NateLeport): What was your favorite episode of psych to work on? What was your favorite running gag like the pineapple, I’ve heard it both ways, come on son, I’m Shawn spencer and this is my partner ____, etc.

JAMES RODAY: I became partial to singing suck it towards the end

QUESTION (leeselislisuh): What was your biggest recurring nightmare as a kid? Mine happened a lot when my mom was pregnant with my little sister, and I kept dreaming she'd be born with a full set of very pointy teeth. Horrifying. Huge fan and excited to see more of your work!!

JAMES RODAY: What a question. And what a nightmare. I used to dream that I was a werewolf but I thought that was awesome and didn't want to wakeup

QUESTION (bsischo): When does the next Psych movie come out? I loved that series and I really enjoyed the last movie.

JAMES RODAY: Good question and not sure of the answer. If I had to guess I'd say around the holidays again

bsischo: Really looking forward to it!!!

QUESTION (imdannyg): How did the music choices for Treehouse play out? Priscilla Ahn's Under the Covers is the bomb!

JAMES RODAY: All those needle drops are in the script. I tend to write very specifically to music and, knowing we'd have little to know music budget, I chose songs we had shot at getting. We got all of them. Priscilla, per usual, stepped up and wrote something incredible just for the movie. Another ridiculously talented dear friend who I will employ forever and ever as long as she says yes.

QUESTION (TheWriteOwl): James, thank you so much for doing an AMA and letting us all fan-girl our hearts out. I think it's rare to see someone who moves as smoothly as you do from being a comedic genius in a show like Psych and a thrill master in movies like Treehouse.

What attracted you to these two, disparate genres, and can you speak a little bit about why you think you've seen so much success in both?

JAMES RODAY: Better to be lucky than good and I've been very lucky. I have dedicated myself to being as good as humanly possible to try and make sense of how blessed I've been. Growing up, horror and comedy were the genres I gravitated to the most so they've been in my bones for a very long time. I still remember seeing An American Werewolf in London in the theaters as a six year old. That just about sums me up.

TheWriteOwl: Your dedication and your inherent love for what you do really shows up in your work. As a fan, it's awesome to see - thank you!

QUESTION (eppukuu): Film or digital?

JAMES RODAY: Film. But I do understand the revolution. We shot the first three seasons of Psych on film and Tuesday the 17th was shot on Super 16 which is one of my very favorite formats. There's something truly special about knowing you only have so much film to shoot on and so many takes to get it -- really brings a crew and cast together. And it just looks so good. Though technology has definitely curbed that with HD.

QUESTION (angelusgirl): I started watching Psych after I watched the awesome episode Dual Spires. What was your favorite Twin Peaks Easter egg in the episode or memory of filming it?

JAMES RODAY: The last scene in the diner was a blast because it was a basket of easter eggs. And I'll never forget watching the cast of my favorite show reunite in real time at the Sutton Place bar. Some of them hadn't seen each other in 25 years.

angelusgirl: And a follow up if I may, what did you think of the showtime season?

JAMES RODAY: Well. I loved it because it felt like the deepest recesses of David Lynch's mind were turned loose and who knows if or when we'll get to experience that again. That said, I understand why it wasn't for everyone and if you came in expecting an evolution of the original series....well, you probably didn't get what you were hoping for.

QUESTION (cabose7): How is Timothy Omundson doing?

JAMES RODAY: He's such a badass and he's doing great. He has exceeded expectations at every turn and I cannot wait to bring Lassie back home.

QUESTION (]miatosc): what’s it like working with Allison Miller? She seems super funny and passionate about her work.

JAMES RODAY: Miller is a truly gifted performer. I lucked out getting her as a scene partner. She pushes me, carries me and makes me better. No question.

QUESTION (imdannyg): Did you write Agnes with Nancy Charles in mind? She (and all the cast) is incredible!

JAMES RODAY: We did not but boy did she come into her audition and own that role. When she left we all looked at each other and were like "well, that's that."

QUESTION (seppukuu): You survived the (non-zombie related) apocalypse. The planet is a wasteland. What do you miss most?

JAMES RODAY: Dogs and pals.

QUESTION (mndrlyn): Hi James! Two questions. 1. Does the beard stay for the new Psych movie? 2. What do you do in your off time that makes you happy?

JAMES RODAY: You'll just have to wait and....oh who are we kidding, Shawn doesn't have a beard. I generally spend as much time in NYC as I can and relax by thinking about the next juicy thing I can make. And vodka and sports.

QUESTION (psych-o5life): Do you know what's gonna happen in AMLT season 2?

JAMES RODAY: I may know a thing or two -- which still leaves close to a million

JAMES RODAY: You awesome ladies and gents I'm gonna wrap this up in the next five minutes. We've actually gone over an hour and I don't want to break Reddit.

QUESTION (imdannyg): What are the most difficult constraints to overcome with a limited budget such as this? Is it just time, is it human resources, is it gadget/technology oriented issues? What extra thing would help the most with a limited budget like Treehouse?

JAMES RODAY: All of the above. And I would always choose time over money.

QUESTION (SydneyHollow): Shawn was a big hero of mine for a long time. Then I realized over time that Shawn is a huge dick. Nevertheless, your ability to breathe such life into his character is nothing short of amazing. All the actors on Psych, really, are truly gifted!

​Did you ever have doubts about how successful Psych would be?

JAMES RODAY: Hahaha! I love this. And believe me the longer the show ran, the more challenging it became to keep a character like Shawn digestible. It's like watching Puck of Peter Pan for muuuuch longer than a movie or a play. But yes, that was a wonderful group of actors and humans and we are family. Lightning in a bottle to be sure. The success of Psych never ceases to amaze me. Truly. And that's all because of the fans. 100 percent.

QUESTION (JessicaSimbro): In writing a female role for one of your films, what personality traits does an attractive woman have in your mind? And what then makes that same woman gaspingly frightening?

JAMES RODAY: I believe attractiveness lives primarily on the inside. I'd say the same for what makes anyone frightening.

QUESTION (woahbells): From interviews you seem introverted and introspective but not uncomfortable being questioned about both work and personal topics. Assuming I'm correct and that you are an introvert, how do you reconcile that aspect of your personality with fame?

Also, I noticed the subtle pineapples on Peter's daughter's shirt at the end. Was that intentionally done?

JAMES RODAY: Not my choice but I also didn't veto it so...

QUESTION (firmhair): Come back to White Rock. Our Pier is gone :(

JAMES RODAY: Deal. And with that, thank you all for joining me. It's always a pleasure to connect with you all. If you haven't checked out Treehouse on Hulu, give it a spin. I am enormously proud of the work from all involved and especially grateful for the opportunity to work with and learn from so many talented and insightful women. Be kind to yourselves and others and get ready for a million little spoonfuls of delicious flavor in the future....

[salted-barbed-wire]

Gangster (pt. 1)

A/N: So I found this prompt on either Pinterest or Insta from this writing prompt account. I fell in love with it and one of the first people I thought of when I saw it, was Samoa Joe. So hopefully this is good. It’s got kind of a slow build so bare with me, the juicy bits will come. This is going to be 3 or 4 part series.

Summary: OC, (Y/N), is a recently divorced, up and coming journalist who thinks she’s just in the wrong place at the wrong time when she gets held up in a bank heist. That is, until the criminals recognize her and immediately retreat with fear that their Boss will come down on them because she is on his “No Harm” list. Why, she doesn’t know. As the web hunt begins to figure out who this “Joe” is, (Y/N)’s high school sweet heart, Joel Seanoa, shows up unannounced but with a big revelation.  Featuring: Samoa Joe (Nuufolau Joel Seanoa), Dean Ambrose, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins, Eric Young, Alexander Wolfe, Nikki Cross, Killian Dane ..... more to come soon! Warnings: None. Rated F for FLUFF-ish Word Count: 3100+

Enjoy or don’t!

Click, click, click.

The sound of my heels on the pavement were all I wanted to focus on. I didn’t want to get distracted from my task and there was too much going on.

Horns honking, dogs barking, cars whizzing past- if I let myself absorb my surroundings too much, I’d talk myself out of it.

You just must do it, (Y/N). I told myself internally. This is what cuts him off from you completely. It’s time to get away.

I approached the bank, clutching the file folder in my hand. Its contents were papers from the court offices, acknowledging the fact that I was recently divorced from my venomous, mooch of an ex-husband. I needed them only to remove him from accessing my bank account, so he couldn’t pay for one of his little sluts’ new pair of tits.

An exasperated sigh escaped my lips as I reminisced on the last four, horrific years. John and I had met at my work and fell in love instantly. Fresh out of high school, I had just become an intern at a local newspaper’s office and hoped to have a solid job as a journalist at the company by the end of the year. John worked in the mail room when we first started dating. I should’ve seen the signs then- no real drive to amount to anything, no goals, flirting around with any girl that looked his general direction. Soon, we were married, he began bouncing from job to job, while I moved up from being an intern to a secretary to working on a small editorial section. John definitely had way more free time than I did, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to keep up with his three other girlfriends.

The railing was cold against the brisk winter air as I brushed my fingers along it to walk up the steps. Perhaps if I had been paying attention to the signs that John was no good for me, I would’ve never said yes to marrying him in Vegas, I would’ve never allowed him to cheat on me, then use me as a meal ticket.

I pushed passed the revolving doors to my bank, the tile hard beneath my heels.

Perhaps if I paid attention at all, I would’ve heard the men behind me carrying guns and bags.

“Everyone, freeze!” A deep voice boomed from behind me.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

“On the ground! Now!” He shouted again.

Lowering myself to my knees, I watched as everyone tried their best not to panic. Fantastic. I thought to myself, what a day to have to go to the bank.

“Cell phones! Give them up!” A different voice shouted.

From the sound of their footsteps, there was about three or four of them. I felt cool metal press against the side of my head as one of the men held out a basket for me to drop my phone in. I did so, without hesitation.

“Ladies and gentlemen, sorry for the inconvenience but we have a job to do, everyone does as we ask and no one gets hurt.” A hand touched the back of my head, stroking my hair. I didn’t want to look up to see the eyes of my capture, too terrified to move. “Don’t,” he continued, “and I’ll pick you off one by one and make an example of you. Everyone understand?”

There was no response.  

The robber growled, “I asked you a question.” Click. “Do you understand?” And suddenly there was a defining sound of bullets being shot into the air above me. I covered my ears and screamed as glass from the lights fell around my body. I could hear other screams from the hostages too.

“Good.” The man said. “Boys, get to work.”

Three black, clothed figures walked around me carrying dangerous looking weapons. One appeared to be a woman, short but held herself as if she was ready to pounce on anyone that got out of line. Then two more men, one larger than the other. All of them wearing ski masks, all of them moving quickly to finish whatever job they needed to do.

“Did I scare you sweetheart?”

It was the man who had been giving the orders earlier, he knelt to level himself with my face.

I shook my head ‘no’ but couldn’t hide the fact that the rest of me was terrified.

“You got a nasty cut on your cheek, darlin’. Lemme take a look-see.” His gloved hand gently took my chin and he observed the cut on my face. It was stinging from where the glass had sliced my skin open. I could feel blood dripping onto my hand.

“Say, sweetheart. You look familiar…” his blue eyes squinted over my features. “Wish I could say where I knew your pretty face from.”

I didn’t like the way he was touching me or trying to be nice to me. Not at all. So, I did what any rational thinking girl would do when faced with a possibly dangerous man that made her uncomfortable; I bit him.

Just in the right spot too. My teeth clenched down over the exposed skin on his wrist. The masked man screamed as I broke the skin, tasting blood in my mouth.

“Fucking, bitch!” He screamed.

I spit his blood onto the floor, “Don’t touch me!” My voice shouted back at him.

“Oh, I’m going to do much more than that, you little cunt!” His hand struck my face, causing my head to reel.

“E!” One of the men interrupted him. “Stop!” He walked over to us, putting his body in between our fight.

“You heard the boss, Wolfe, if anyone gives us trouble-”

“Yeah but do you recognize her?”

They both stared down at me for a few heart beats while I glared at them, head aching all the while.

“It’s her!” The man called ‘E’ gasped.

“Yeah, we need to go, NOW!” Wolfe pleaded.

“He’s going to want to know,” E scratched the top of his mask. “He’s going to kill me for touching her.”

“Who’s ‘he’?” I spoke up finally, “Why do you guys look so scared suddenly?”

E crouched down again, “He is our boss. And He isn’t to be messed with. We’ll let him know we ran into you.”

“Come on boys, let’s go!” Wolfe called out for the other two who came around the corner with two full duffle bags.

I watched the four men go, but not before E turned around to address everyone in the bank. “Goodnight ladies and gents. Thank you for letting us steal from you, hope you’ve had a pleasant experience and have a wonderful day!”

----

I had never felt so happy to take a shower in my life. After spending all afternoon and most of the evening at the police station, being forced to run through the robbery repeatedly was maddening. The detective had asked me over and over again why the group of robbers had been talking to me, because, of course, the other witnesses swore that they saw us having a “long chat”.

The water poured over my skin and I played through everything that I had heard from the men working the case. Detective Rollins and his two partners Ambrose and Reigns had been looking into these men for some time. They seemed to think they were part of a crime organization and the four criminals were just henchmen.

“Sanity,” Detective Rollins had told me, “that’s what they call themselves. We’re not sure who exactly they’re working for, but we know it’s for one of the big bosses in town.”

“Big bosses?”

Detective Ambrose nodded, “There’s quite the underground network going on in our city. Most of the bosses have gotten away with keeping they’re identities as secrets, the rest of them are closely monitored by yours truly.” His smile was wolfish as he stared down at me.

“We just need anything you might be able to remember to identify these men,” Detective Reigns pushed his way in between Ambrose and I. “Features, names, anything.”

I pursed my lips together, trying to remember. “The shorter man was called ‘E’ but he did call one of the other guys ‘Wolf’ I think. There was a girl there, but I didn’t catch her name, nor did she speak to me. Then there was a larger man, he was terrifying.”

Rollins nodded, “Wolf, huh?”

“Does that mean something?” I asked.

“It might. Please, ma’am, just sit tight. We’ll have you out of here short amount of time.”

They walked off and they thought I was earshot. I bit my lip and listened the best I could to the quiet muttering on the other side.

“You think it’s him?” Reigns asked.

“He supposedly left town, Seth. We haven’t seen or heard from him in over a year.” Ambrose muttered.

Seth was quiet, I could almost hear the wheels turning in his head as the other men talked through everything.

Reigns’ voice sounded strained, “Is it worth checking into?”

“The thug we picked up the other day was muttering something about a return of the king,” Rollins mused. “He’s not part of the family, Ro, but have you heard any whispers.”

“Not from our family.” He said. “My father seems to think Joe is dead.”

Joe.

Such a popular name but something told me I needed to look into it. Getting out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around me and took one last deep intake of the steam that filled the bathroom before opening the door. I opened my laptop up to load up google.

Hours later, I was still at square one. All I knew was the name Joe as a previous mob boss in the city. There were plenty of articles written about crimes attached to his name. But there was no last name, no history on the man. It’s like he came from nothing and then disappeared when he was being investigated.

The last few articles prior to his disappearance kept referencing a turf war between his people and another mob who was ran by someone who was referred to as “The Demon Head”. There was nothing on this “Demon” either.

Fed up and exhausted I slammed my laptop shut and forced a nightshirt over my head only to slide under the covers to my bed. People on Facebook were sending me messages all day after seeing my face on tv earlier in the day at the bank robbery. I scrolled through them and read a few, until I passed out, phone in hand and my bedside lamp still on.

---

I sipped on my coffee as I sat inside my haven called the Java Spot. I had brought my laptop, hoping to be able to do more research on this ‘Joe’ but hadn’t gotten very far. Instead, I decided to respond to my facebook messages. Luckily, my boss had called me this morning and practically begged me to stay home for a few days. Michael promised I’d get paid time off that wouldn’t affect my vacation hours that I had been saving for a rainy day.

Most of the messages read the same; ‘Hope you’re doing okay!’, ‘Saw you on TV!’, ‘Thoughts and prayers’. Blah, blah, blah. Most of them seemed half-hearted or impassive. Hell, even my ex-husband messaged me asking if I was okay. I don’t think I’ve ever hit the ‘delete’ button so fast.

I pinched the bridge of my nose together, begging for a sign, for a lead, for anything pointing me in the direction I needed to go to find this man.

“Well, well, well,” I deep, soothing voice resounded through my ears. I looked up to see a familiar face with dark eyes in front of me. “(Y/N)(Y/L/N), it’s been a while.”

“Joel?” I smiled, jaw nearly on the floor. I damn near jumped out of my chair to wrap my arms around his neck and hug him. “Oh my God! It’s been 4 years since we graduated, and I thought you’d left town! It’s so good to see you.”

“Believe me, darling, the pleasure is all mine,” he pulled back to meet my eyes. His expression was soft, intimate, like we were the only two people in that coffee shop; maybe in the world.

Nuufolau Joel Seanoa, I hadn’t seen him since my high school graduation. He always went by Joel, unless you were family. Joel was the all state wrestling champ, salutatorian, and my ex-boyfriend. Our relationship was strange but comfortable. Seanoa managed to keep me from meeting his family for our whole three-year relationship, yet, my parents loved him. I never got over how supportive of me he was when I was working on the school paper and he was always the greatest listener and the way he touched me…

I cleared my throat, taking a step back from his embrace. “Sorry, I- uh…”

“Is this seat taken?” He asked interrupting me holding a hand out to the empty chair in front of me. He was wearing a black business suit with a paisley silver tie. He looked like he was heading into a very big meeting that would make him a lot of money.

“No, please! Sit!”

He glanced at my screen just before I shut it, “light reading?”

“Urm, you could say that. I was doing research for an article I’m writing.” It was only a small fib. Besides, who knows if I could actually write a story about this one day.

“How have you been, (Y/N)? I haven’t seen you since-“

“We broke up?” I asked with more spite in my voice than I intended.

Joel pretended not to notice but simply smiled, “Yes, well I was going to say, ‘Since we graduated’.”

I swallowed a bit, feeling guilty, “I- I didn’t mean…”

He held his hand up, “Please, (Y/n), I deserve it. There were… sensitive matters that I didn’t want to involve you in and it was incredibly selfish of me. Especially since you’re growing up even more beautiful than I could’ve even imagined.”

“Sensitive matters?”

Joel’s face never wavered, he held the same smirk on his face. “Yes, and I’m sorry I left you.” His dark brown eyes traced along my figure and his tongue flicked out against his lips, “Very sorry,” he muttered.

A shiver ran down my spine. A sudden desire to cover every inch of exposed skin came over me.

“You’re a journalist now?” He asked, breaking the silence. “I remember how much you loved being apart of the school newspaper when we were in high school. You wrote quite a few amazing works back then, I’ll bet you’re practically Louis Lane now.”

“God, I miss that stuffy journalism room in high school. Now I’m in an office and it’s crowded and full of people that constantly judge you. My boss, Michael Cole, he’s awesome though.”

Joel chuckled, “I remember how fond you were of that room.” His eyes met mine again, this time full of mischief. “We used to sneak off to that supply closet a few times a day.”

I bit my lip and blushed. Joel and I dated all through high school, up until the day after we graduated. We were inseparable, always next to each other. He was on the varsity wrestling team and I came to every match. When I was writing, he’d sit there patiently and watch as I worked, or proof read for me.

“You’re blushing an awful lot, beautiful,” He noted.

“It just feels like ages since then. We were quite naughty sneaking around the school and making out. Just a couple of horny teenagers.”

“You never let me get passed second base,” his smile was teasing.

“I was a prude back then.”

I got a raised eyebrow in response, “So not anymore?”

A nervous giggle slipped out, I bit my lip again to force the rest of it back.

“Don’t bite your lip,” he tilted his head. “I’d rather do that for you.”

This time I laughed, a full laugh. “That’s a sorry excuse for a pick-up line.”

“It was only plan A.” I felt his knee bump mine under the table.

I bumped it back, “So what, pray tell, is plan B?”

“To kidnap you.”

Gulp

There was silence between us that was tense. His hand reached out and brushed mine, “I do have to say, there is an ulterior motive behind me coming to see you.” Another pause, “I saw the news yesterday.”

I sighed, “Just please don’t say you’re sorry, or that you feel bad for me.”

His eyebrows knitted together, “I wouldn’t do that.”

My eyes rolled, “and why is that?”

“Because, someone who has been through so much doesn’t want sympathy, they want answers, they want justice. If I knew who this Eric fellow was that cut you… So reckless.” He squeezed my hand in attempt to comfort.

My heart slammed into my chest, “Eric?” Something flashed in front of his eyes, his smile grew. “I never gave a name to anyone but the cops, and it wasn’t Eric. Who’s Eric?” My head was screaming at me into a horrific realization. “E? Is E Eric?”

“Boss!” Another familiar voice interrupted us. A man charged in, mostly bald and thickly bearded. Our gazes met, and I froze. Blue eyes; the same ones from yesterday. He shook his head and turned his attention back to Joel. “Joe, we need to go. Now!”

I turned back to the man in front of me, “Joe? Joel, these are your… employees?”

He stood and adjusted his tie, “Darling, it’s time we have a talk.”

Panic slammed into my chest, my first reaction was to scream.

Joel- JOE held his hand up, “Don’t scream. We need to talk, but we have to go somewhere safe.”

My lips parted, I sucked in air.

“Do. Not. Scream.” He commanded, irises fading to black. My mouth snapped shut. “Now, I will escort you outside, we’ll get into my car, and we are going to go have a talk. This is Mr. Young, he will not hurt you, will you Eric?” He turned a glare to the man.

Eric quickly shook his head, “No sir, she’s in safe hands.”

“And if I don’t?” I asked Joe.

His face was emotionless. “Then I suppose I’ll have to drag you out of this coffee shop, kicking and screaming.”

“Thought you didn’t want to make a scene?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“No, but I’m sure I can find a way to... persuade these wonderful people to refrain from calling the cops.”

“You’d pay them off?” I spat the question, “Not all of these people would take your money. There are good people in the world, Joe!”

His hands slammed down on the table, “As a journalist, you should know better than that. You should also know there are other ways to ensure silence from these folks.”

I felt the air catch my chest. My eyes darted around the room. How many of these people were good, honest people? Would Joe really hurt them or their families? A feeling of dread choked my heart, I would be to blame. My attention snapped back to Joe.

“Fine.”

“Come with me,” he said, placing his hand at the small of my back, guiding me towards the door. “I don’t want to make anymore of a scene, it’s time you know the truth.”

We walked out to the car, an all black Buick, Joe’s hand still lightly pressed against my blouse. I could feel his warmth, it prickled my flesh sending shivers through me. It was a confusing mix of emotions; comfort in an old friend’s touch and fear of the gangster looming over me.

—

TAGGING: @rainbowbox @wrecklessint @theprogresskid @bettergetusetoit @empress-with-the-crown @thirstiswet @styleslee @lip-sync @poisonarrow24 @sophvas1 @hoes4joe @newjapan @crookedmoonsaultpunk @were--goingnowhere

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the next installment to know what happens next!

[kingfallshistoricallibrary-blog]

Episode Thirteen: Crop Circle Jerk

[intro]

Ben:

Good evening! You’re listening to King Falls AM – that’s 660 on the radio dial.

Sammy:

Folks, we are jumping right into it tonight. We got Deputy Troy on the line live from Libbydale Farms. Hey, Troy, can you hear us alright?

Troy:

Loud and clear, Sammy. Heard you real fine, too, Ben.

Ben:

Suck an egg.

Sammy:

Okay so, Troy tell the listeners what you just told us right before we went on air.

Troy:

Ladies and gents, in all my years – and I mean all – I ain’t never seen anything like this. Not even comparatively close to what I’m lookin’ at right  this instant.

Ben:

POINT. GET TO IT.

Troy:

Gosh darnit, Ben. I’m trying to sell the magnitude of what I’m feasting my eyes on!

Ben:

Who even knew you could see Libbydale Farms from so far out in the Kiss Ass Sea of Worthy SS Backstabber.

Troy:

You know GD well I’m not on a ship nor would it be called the SS Backstabber if I were. Don’t be so damn sore, Ben. Everybody knows I’m sorry! Plus I reckon my ship be called the USS Super Badass.

Sammy:

[clears throat] Troy. Ben. Let’s put our differences aside and let’s get to the matter at hand. So, Troy, you’re live at?

Ben & Troy:

Libbydale Farms.

Ben & Troy:

I’m trying to talk!

Sammy:

Guys!

Troy:

As- as I was sayin, I’m out here at the farm and out past the barns just hours ago, Old man Libbydale called us in and acres upon acres, boys, have been de-stroyed.  

Ben:

Where were you earlier this evening, Troy?

Troy:

Using my keen detective skills and ninja like mental agility, I can see you’re trying to place me at the scene of the crime, little buddy. However Ol’ Troy was sawing logs next to the Mrs before my shift.

Ben:

While crimes are being committed? Typical.

Troy: Now that’s a low blow. Just because –

Ben:

NO! NO! YOU-

Troy:

Ben come on –

Ben:

[sarcastic] Ohhh yeah ohhh just soooo good at –

Sammy:

GUYS! Guys! I understand there’s a new intensity between you two, but Ben, as co-host of this show and a respected journalist…put it away. Troy, you’re the first friend of The Sammy & Ben Show and a deputy sheriff. You guys don’t have to be best buddies, but let’s please report on the news story at hand.

Troy:

Couldn’t have said it better myself, Sammy.

Ben:

Jesus.

Sammy:

So, Troy – Oldman Libbydale called you out. Acres of his lands destroyed. How so?

Troy:

Y’all ain’t gonna believe it, but you know I always shoot you straight. Two words: Crop Circles.

Sammy:

Crop circles?

Troy:

It’s like a live action Led Zeppelin album cover as far as the eyes can see. Big ones, little ones…the craziest damn designs you ever could imagine.

Ben:

Troy, I assume you and the rest of Gunderson’s thugs – I mean deputies – inspected the circles and the surrounding areas for man made tools. There have been stories of men with boards tied to ropes that can replicate what people believe crop circles to look like. Bending the crops at the right angles, etcetera… did you find -

Troy:

Didn’t find anything, Ben. Not a board, not a footprint, nothing but hunched over crops.

Ben:

So you think…?

Troy:

Oh there isn’t a doubt in my mind it’s the UFO’s or those lights. I mean, whichever you wanna call it. No man made these. And in just a few hours to boot!

Sammy:

Okay, so has this ever happened here before, Ben?

Ben:

No. Nor abductions. Not even the lights being so close to town. The past few months have been a hotbed for extraterrestrial activity, it would seem.

Sammy:

It would seem? So you aren’t certain?

Ben:

[laughs] I only said it would seem so you wouldn’t get all defensive about it.

Sammy:

Okay, alright. Well as much as I hate to say it, I definitely feel there’s a lot more than meets the eye here in Kings Falls.

Ben:

I’m not one to say I told you so. But I did tell you so!

Troy:

Just so everybody out there knows, Libbydale Farm is private property. So, unless you’re doing the dairy farm tour in morning, this is not an attraction for looky-loos. There is an official investigation still on going here. Plus don’t nobody need another person gettin’ snatched up by the Martians either.

Ben:

Martians are from Mars, Troy. They aren’t representative of all extraterrestrials.

Troy:

Whatever, Ben Nye the Science Guy. I’m headed out to the field again. I may not be smart as Ben about the aliens and such, but I can definitely sniff out a spot where the Williams Boys will come lookin for mischief and mayhem. [hangs up]

Sammy:

Deputy Troy, folks. Now I didn’t realize you and Troy were still so angry at one another, Ben. You can’t let that hostility –

Ben:

Thanks Dad… we’re just gonna take a break to hear from one of our fine sponsors. Maybe Sammy here can talk to me about the birds and the  bees after we get back.

Sammy:

Maybe…

[ad]

What if what you thought wasn’t really what you thought you thought? Ever think of that? Here at The Institute of Science we can help you become what you’ve always wanted to become. A better you, for a better mankind. Call us today for a free brochure and a c-meter reading. That’s C as in cat. We’re coming King Falls. Be well. And be ready.

[intro]

Sammy:

You’re listening to King Falls AM and we’re opening up the phone lines to you. 424-279-3858.

Ben:

We’ll be talking about the apparent crop circles situation at Libbydale Farms as well as if any of you out there have had any experience with this phenomenon.

Sammy:

So give us a call or tweet us @kingfallsam. So, you’ve heard our story, now let’s hear yours.

Ben:

Line 3.

Sammy:

Good evening you’re live with Sammy and Ben.

Cynthia:

Good evening? For who? Certainly not King Falls!

Sammy:

Hi, Cynthia. How about you tell us how you really feel tonight.

Cynthia:

Well, to be honest I’m a little rattled over these gang signs these aliens are leaving on our turf. Literally.

Ben:

Cynthia, there is no way to tell if those circles are angry or happy, even. They’re just symbols.

Cynthia:

So’s a swastika, Ben Arnold. Get your head out of your tuchus!

Sammy:

Okay, obviously, we aren’t trying to raise alarms here, Cynthia. It’s just, uh, an interesting story. Especially here in our own backyard. Would you not agree? Uh, you know, it’s not every day you can see this kind of handy work, man made or otherwise.

Cynthia:

You two sound so happy. We’re getting tagged in an intergalactic war and all us in the Falls are sitting around at ground zero.

Ben:

I don’t think that’s fair –

Cynthia:

That’s the problem! You just don’t think. It’s all Tim Jensen’s fault, I just know it. We didn’t have any flying saucers and land tattooing bedlam before he chased those lights.

Ben:

He didn’t chase anything! He was driving from work and called to report on a breaking news story.

Cynthia:

Watch your tone, Ben. I’ll buy one of those disease ridden sugar flyers and toss it in Lake Hatchenhaw just to spite you!

Sammy:

Goodnight, Cynthia.

Ben:

Sugar glider. And they’re illegal.

Cynthia:

So are illegal aliens, but you’re just getting ready to throw them a parade. I can’t! I just can’t! [hangs up]

Sammy:

Heh, alright, uh… Line 12 you’re live on King Falls AM.

Emily:

Hi, Sammy! Hi, Ben!

Ben:

Emily! I – I didn’t realize you were back in town!

Emily:

I just got back. I was listening on the way in. My mom and I actually drove by the farm and saw all the commotion over there. Police, reporters, big lawn mower thingies…

Ben:

Lawn mowers?

Sammy:

Uh, you know, if you don’t mind me asking, Emily, why were you out of town?

Emily:

Oh I flew out to Buford, Wyoming for the annual small town librarian expo, and I had my mom pick me up from the airport since Ben was on the air.

Sammy:

Wow, so you guys are in the taking and picking up from the airport stage of your –

Ben:

Friendship. Is that the word you’re searching for, Sammy?

Sammy:

That was exactly the one, Ben.

Emily:

[laughs] You guys are so silly. But I just wanted to say hi and tell Ben I’m back home now! Oh! And starting next week, I’ve got a whole bunch of fun activities I learned from the expo to start doing at the library. Hopefully we can get some of the scared kids back now.

Ben:

I’ll call you later, Emily.

Emily:

Goodnight, Ben. Night, Sammy.

Sammy:

Emily Potter, ladies and gents. King Falls librarian and Ben’s…friend.

Ben:

Yeah, yeah. Lucky Line 1, you’re on King Falls AM.

Caller:

Hi, guys! It’s Greg Frickard!

Sammy:

Hi, Greg! You know, we appreciate you running the ads on the show, sir. It’s so nice to meet you… uh, over the phone, of course.

Greg:

Thanks, Sammy! I think we’ve talked before and uh, glad to run the spots. Me and Granny Frickard love the show! You should hop on down to the Froggery and we’ll hook ya up!

Sammy:

I might have to take you up on that offer, Greg!

Greg:

We’d love to have you! You too, Ben…

Ben:

Greg, you’re a lifelong King Falls resident…we’ve been talking about the crop circles out at –

Greg:

Oh I know. I’ve been listening, but I was actually calling about something else if that’s okay.

Sammy:

Uh yeah, sure thing, Greg. What’s on your mind?

Greg:

Well, I heard Ben and Ms. Potter a second ago and they made a declaration of friendship? Is that correct?

Sammy:

Oh. Uh. Is this about Emily?

Ben:

Did you call before when Emily was in the studio, Greg?

Greg:

Uh, no… [nervously laughs] that must have been…somebody else. But is that true, Ben? Are you and Miss Potter just friends?

Ben:

Good friends. Close friends. Real close.

Greg:

Huh. Welp that’s all I needed to know. Thanks a million, buddy.

Sammy:

Hey uh, Greg – you didn’t have a comment or –

Greg:

Oh, no. I just - [laughs] I don’t know the first thing about crop circles and what have you. Uh, it’s real interesting and all, but Ms. Potter’s lovely voice just…speaks to me. I always just assumed that Ben and Emily were bf and gf respectively, but… if that’s not the case then…

Sammy:

Ben? You okay?

Ben:

I don’t like putting our personal lives out there in the public eye.

Greg:

Well, gee, Ben. I’m only asking because if you’re into friendship with the lovely Ms. Potter, I’m afraid I just might be into courtship. Granny wants to see me married before going into the great By-and-By

Ben:

Okay, bye bye to you too, Greg. Looks like we lost line –

Greg:

I’m still here, pals! Now about that thing-

Ben:

[hangs up] Line 7 you’re on King Falls AM?

Sammy:

Did you just hang up on –

Ben:

I would never. Line 7.

Herschel:

I’d like to voice a complaint, right this instant.

Sammy:

Herschel?

Ben:

Is everything okay, Mr. Baumgartner?

Herschel:

Would I call into you nincompoops if everything was honky-dory?

Ben:

I guess not…

Sammy:

So what seems to be the issue, Herschel?

Herschel:

All this yackin about GD UFO’s and crop circles, for starters. Makes my damn di[censor] itch.

Sammy:

Sir! This is –

Herschel:

Did you call me to tell me what to think, comrade? Or did I call you to talk about an issue?

Sammy:

Please continue, Mr. Baumgartner…

Herschel:

Thank you. So, I’m out on the lake tonight – got up bright and early so I could make sure I got my special spot.

Ben:

Got up early? It’s just now a little past 2…

Herschel:

You the sleep police?! Ya little bastard… I thought not.

Ben:

Sorry, Herschel.

Herschel:

So I’m trollin, out on the – well, that parts top secret, boys. But I’m trollin, so I don’t scare the biggins away and those [censored] damn sons of [censored] rainbow lights start blowing through the sky. Looked like Joseph’s Amazing Technicolored Dreamcoat was fightin that big Jap lizard!

Sammy:

Godzilla? Please don’t use derogatory –

Herschel:

McCarthy would’ve skinned your ass alive, you red sack of [censored]! Can I tell my story?!

Sammy:

Of course, I’m just asking you not to –

Ben:

I’m on the button, Sammy. Herschel’s gonna Herschel…

Sammy:

Okay, so you saw the lights tonight…

Herschel:

Saw? Hell, they scared the literal piss out of me. The trickle down my Carhartt looks like the state of Florida. I’m out here naked as a jaybird! Not a fish in sight.

Ben:

I’m sorry, did you just reference a musical, Mr. Baumgartner?

Herschel:

Oh just cause I like some colorful metaphors means I can’t be refined, Ben?!

Ben:

I wasn’t – I didn’t – imply- I um I’m just saying-

Herschel:

Oh Mrs. Baumgartner – god rest your sexy soul, Edna – used to love those hippy-dippy singing plays. And I’d do anything to keep in those pants, fellas.

Sammy:

Oh, god.

Ben:

Awww. Can we get back to the lights?

Herschel:

That Edna. Oh, lemme tell ya… oh, uh, yeah – the damn lights! Yeah, so, I saw ‘em. What the hell else am I supposed to tell ya about it?

Sammy:

Well, you were calling to complain about them, I’m sure.

Herschel:

That’s right! I’d like to report that no good drunkard! Cecil Sheffield! Called that cumbersome ass-wart damn near 15 times to come bring me a pair of skivvies to no avail! Avoiding my calls and his duties as a co-winner of this damn boat!

Ben:

It’s so late, Mr. Baumgartner. I’m sure he’s sleeping now.

Herschel:

You would take up with him!

Sammy:

Ben’s just sayin that he isn’t avoiding you so much as he’s, you know, probably asleep.

Herschel:

Sleeping one off! Soggy son of a [censor]ch. He knows if I ring the special line, it’s a damn emergency.

Ben:

So, you guys have made up?

Herschel:

Made up my ass! If he’s gonna be co-anything with Herschel F. Baumgartner, that tallywackers gonna have to keep up his end of the bargain.  

Sammy:

To be at your beck and call in case you… soil yourself…

Herschel:

Don’t be crass!

Ben:

So, you guys are actually sharing the boat? That’s awesome! I figured you-

Herschel:

I ain’t sharin a damn thing with that son of a [censored]. Stop stirrin the pot or I’ll make what Charlie did to John McCain look like foreplay, Ben Arnold!

Sammy:

So, to the point, you’re calling to complain about Cecil because he’s sleeping through your time of need?

Ben:

But he is corroborating seeing the lights, Sammy! That’s a big deal.

Herschel:

Just have an intern or something bring me some britches and stop the fiddle fu[censored] fuss! 32 long! I’ll be at Begley’s. He’s probably peering out his window lookin for a damn show… I don’t like beige! [hangs up]

Sammy:

You’re on King Falls AM with Sammy and Ben.

Riley:

Please hold the line for Mayor Grisham.

Sammy:

This again?

Ben:

[groans]

Sammy:

You know, I wondered, do you wake him when we say special key words, or…?

Riley:

Mayor, you’re on with Sammy and Ben.

Grisham:

Sammy. Ben. I hate to rain on your topic of discussion tonight, but let’s shut it down. It would be much appreciated.

Ben:

What?

Sammy:

The always fair, Mayor Grisham, folks. Remember this come election time next year.

Grisham:

Do you think that a public servant should have to call the local Tom & Joe Chuckle Hut Show to ask them not to jeopardize a police investigation?  

Sammy:

Do you ever call Channel 13 and tell them what to report and how? We are a topical late night talk show, Grisham.

Grisham:

Mayor.

Sammy:

I didn’t vote for you.

Grisham:

Fair enough. I don’t expect you to respect anything but your own pathetic grab for ratings. Now, regarding Channel 13 –

Ben:

Sorry, Mayor. Obviously, Sammy is flustered. He wouldn’t have used such a bad example if he was thinking straight -

Grisham:

The answer to your question, Sammy, is no. I wouldn’t call in and tell a reputable news agency how to do their job. BUT, amazingly enough, I continue to have to ask you to stop your rhetoric seemingly once a month or so. Interesting, don’t you think?

Ben:

You do realize the only people that watch Channel 13 are drunks that can’t find the remote and animals left alone with the TV on, right?

Grisham:

Whatever helps you sleep better, Ben. I can tell you for a fact that right now Storm Sander’s is probably not working a local yokel interview and digging up the muck. He’s reporting on city ordinance 29.44371.

Ben:

Storm is knee deep in a barrel of backyard bathtub hooch during commercial breaks.

Sammy:

So, Mayor, what is this ordinance? Ya know, since we aren’t reporting the news to your liking, give us a glimpse into what works for you.

Grisham:

The add on to the local YMCA. The new menu at Rose’s. I’m not paid a handsome salary to do your job.

Sammy:

Oh, right! I forget you think you can dictate what we report on, for free.

Ben:

Sammy… they’re destroying the crop circles! That’s the ordinance!

Grisham:

There’s hope for you yet, Ben. Don’t go down with this ship. I’ll put a good word in for elsewhere.

Sammy:

You son of a [censored]! You’re destroying the crop circles? That could be the only thing that brings Tim Jensen home!

Grisham:

Don’t bring Tim Jensen into this!  The city is paying Libbydale Farms a fair share for their remaining crops! But it is in the public’s best interest to mow down this batch of mischief accordingly! Especially after this broadcast.

Sammy:

[laughs] You are despicable.

Grisham:

These affairs aren’t your business to ramble on about. Do the weather! Talk about traffic! I mean, I filled those potholes! Stop making trouble!

Sammy:

Freedom of the press. When your assistant isn’t typing out our every word, maybe have her look it up and tell you all about it.

Grisham:

I can’t wait to hear about it! And here’s a little phrase for you to look up too: obstruction of justice.

Sammy:

Uh-huh.

Grisham:

Do you think using your connections to officers of the law to report on breaking news is fine and dandy, Stevens? You are perverting the course of this case.  Certain things, especially ongoing issues, aren’t mean to be talked about until all the facts are out there. And you idiots are prying on the scene reporting with your bagel eating buddy who happens to be a cop.

Ben:

Not my buddy…

Sammy:

Ben.

Ben:

I’m not throwing you under the bus, Sammy. I just hate Troy.

Grisham:

So, the moral of the story would be, gents, somethings require couth. Somethings require kid gloves when handling. And most things don’t need to be aired in the public for ratings and entertainment. A perfect example being how I’m sure Sheriff Gunderson handled Deputy Kriegshauser on his own for calling into this joke of a show with police business constantly. Doubt you’ll see that done during a press conference.

Ben:

Uh, is that really necessary, sir?

Grisham:

This show is a breeding ground for incompetence and you’re now dragging your pals down with you. Straighten up and fly right.

Sammy:

Troy doesn’t need to be punished for you to make your point, Grisham.

Grisham:

Out of my hands. I’ve already had Riley send my opinion on and over to the Sheriff. Now again, I ask you, pick a different topic of discussion. Maybe one that won’t lead to the continued pain and misery for all those around you. Night, night, fellas.

Sammy:

I’m gonna call Troy.

Ben:

Umm We’ll be back after this, King Falls. We’ll take some calls about uh… I guess we’ll see…

 [outro]

[canaryatlaw]

Alright, I just info dumped a huge post on my private so I’m kinda tired already (bad decision on my part not to write this post first) but I mean I really didn’t do that much today so this shouldn’t take all that long. Starting last night though, after I had written my post on here, I happened to catch a post a student had made in one of the student facebook groups from my undergrad (that I’ve just kinda been chilling in to keep up on any good gossip and all that) about a pretty bad situation involving her making a Title IX complaint against one of the professors for being super sexist and saying and doing a lot of really awful things, and how the administration basically ran her off campus as a result of her and just stopped her from being able to do anything and like, I’m reading all of this and thinking OH BOY, DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU because the retaliation clause is the part of Title IX I know better than any other because I have experience dealing with this in a somewhat eerily similar situation at my high school (long after I had graduated) that I’ve shared here in the past. So I commented on the post explaining this was a huge Title IX violation and that she can make an official complaint to the Office of Civil Rights and Department of Education against the school for not following Title IX, which could result in them getting stripped of any federal funding they receive, and possibly the termination of some staff members who were responsible for this. And I’m like, the administration isn’t stupid, someone there HAS to know they were really shitting the bed on this one, but I guess they just didn’t care enough to do anything about it or thought we wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Well, that’s where the lawyers come in and elevate normal people to the level of those who think they’re better than everyone else and pull shit like this. So I posted all of that and it’s gotten a lot of positive responses from other people responding to the post so I was pleased to see that. But anyway. I woke up at like, 6:55 and couldn’t fall back asleep despite trying for like, several hours, so I eventually got up and decided I might as well go 3 days in a row of making m&m pancakes because I could, so I did, and I finished the bag of easter m&ms I had (thought I think I might still have some Christmas m&ms somewhere). I was using the new pancake mix because I ran out of the other one, this was the one I got for free from the grocery store because my store does this weird thing sometimes where these random products will be free if you say the name of the brand at the register, and like there are just people roaming around the store handing it to you and telling you lol and you're like okay cool! lol. They came out pretty thin because I purposely thinned out the batter because thick pancakes make me nervous that they’re not gonna cook all the way through without keeping them on too long and the outside burning, and I like how they taste anyway. They were almost like crepes in texture and I mean, they were really good, so I was pleased with this. Obviously I’ll have to invest in some more m&ms if I want to make a habit out of this, lol. After I ate I decided to get down to business, meaning taking the outline from the bar studying books I have for secured transactions and translating it into flashcards that I can study from, because that’s how my brain works. It’s a 47 page outline, so I got to work and worked on it for most of the day with some various interruptions, but ended up getting through 22 pages and about 130 notecards by the time I stopped around 8, so not bad really. For most of the time I was listening to a podcast called You Made it Weird with Pete Holmes who’s apparently a comedian I hadn’t heard of prior to this podcast, but of all the weird places, someone on tinder actually suggested I listen to it because we were discussing crazy religious childhoods and grappling with our beliefs as adults, and they said it had been really helpful with that, and honestly it has been. Each episode has a different guest, generally a lot of comedians like SNL cast members and other actors/tv personalities (like Jimmy Kimmel). I do listen to the episodes on 1.5x speed, but even so one of the episodes was 3 hours long, so it was a bit of an investment lol. But it was really a good background for my work because I was mostly just copying which doesn't really take much brain power, so I could pay attention for most of it, which was good. I stopped at 8 and ate some of the chicken nuggets from the other night which sadly had not held up as well as I’d hoped, but oh well. I had Blindspot on the DVR to watch so I watched that first, it was a pretty creative episode, I really liked it a lot, they’re doing a solid job this season changing things up and keeping it original. After that I didn’t have anymore DVR shows so I went over to Amazon video to watch some more Krypton. When I opened the app on the tv, it showed that Supergirl and Smallville had recently been watched by someone on the account (so someone in my family) which I’m thinking was probably my dad because he likes to watch Supergirl some times and I can see how that would lead to wanting to watch Smallville (especially since it was season 7 when Supergirl shows up). I watched episodes 2 and 3 of Krypton, I’m not all the way there yet in terms of investment but I’m getting there as things start to come together and I can get a little bit more of an idea what the hell is actually happening on this show, because the dynamics are pretty dang confusing. After that I got ready for bed and here we are. But yeah, it’s intrigued me enough that I’ll continue watching and see how I end up feeling about it. So much for this post being short....oh well. I need sleep now, so I’m signing off. Goodnight ladies and gents, stay classy.

[savetheblackpaladin]

That entire scenario you wrote for Shiro with the s/o in the black dress o.m.g. Id ask for something like that with Hunk simply because your writing is👌👌👌💯 and I would love love love to read about a more aggressive Hunk since most people write him all gentle-- anyhway would you write something similar for Hunk?? Hes just like super distracted by any engineering things that need fixing and ofc still being away on missions? plox

Aaaw yiss 

motha 

fuckin 

Hunk

(Slight NSFW (¬‿¬))

You sighed, fluttering your hair for what seems like the millionth time in the last hour. Hunk didn’t notice; also for the millionth time in the last hour. You slumped further down Yellow’s paw on your stomach, slowly starting to land face first on the floor. 

Hunk still didn’t notice. 

You let your weight fall, heels in the air as you landed on your back with a flip and a loud ‘oof!’ A well practiced move but the two foot fall still made a loud noise.

Hunk still didn’t notice.

Seriously? You smacked your heels on the floor as hard as you could and practically screamed ‘OOF!!’. Nothing. Not a damn thing. You popped your head up and glared at the stupid piece of metal Hunk was playing with.

Ok, he wasn’t playing with it. If he could get it working again, that little piece could greatly magnify the castle’s defenses. But still, you hated it. 

“Heeyyyy baby?” You wrapped you arms around Hunk’s shoulders and rested your chin on his head. He gave a grunt, acknowledging your presence (This time…but you’re not bitter, nope, not at all!). “Lance and I were gonna sneak into Keith’s room and put bubble bath into his shower head. You wanna come with?”

“Why would I do that?”, his focus never wavered from the wires before him, making his voice sound clipped and angry.

But you were undeterred, used to his super-focused habits, “Revenge for putting that slimy plant thing from Ceres down Lance’s armor. I told him we should put some red powder or something in it to make it look like blood but Lance said that was taking it too far. But that Altean bubble stuff is super intense, you literally need one drop to fill an entire bath tub sooooooo, if we put like 3 capfulls in the shower head we can fill up his bathroom.”

Hunk finally looked up from his work with a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, can’t. I gotta finish re-wiring this for Coran before I loose my mojo. You and Lance have fun though.”

Recognizing that you were being dismissed you kissed the top of his head and left. 

You looked at the clock again. 9:45. Okay, he’s a bit late, that’s fine. You adjusted your yellow chemise to fully expose your cleavage (thank you pushups!) and shifted a pillow to make your position in front of the door more comfortable. 

You waited.

                      And waited.

                                           And waited.

You woke up sometime later, snuggled comfortably in your pile of pillows. A quick glance at the clock told you it was 11:15. And Hunk was nowhere in sight. Swallowing down your emotions (mostly frustration), you grabbed your bath robe and prepared to storm into your boyfriend’s room like a demon out of hell.

But when his door opened you found him asleep at his desk, surrounded by wires, gears, and fuses of varying sizes and colors. His goggles were still on and he still had his tools loosely clutched in his hands. Of course, you softened and gently nudged him awake.

“Wake up babe. C’mon, let’s get into bed.” You ran a hand through his soft hair as he blinked up at you in confusion, “Y/N? Oh man…I’m sorry–”

You shushed him and pulled him into bed, humming contentedly as he maneuvered you into the little spoon. He nuzzled his nose against your hair, trying to find your ear so he could place gentle, very ticklish kisses against it. You laughed and tried to push him off but Hunk only pulled you closer and continued attacking your ear, no longer trying to be sweet but actively doing his best to make you laugh. 

“Hunk! Hunkhunk!!! S-stop i-it!” You twisted away as well as you could but only ended up trapped, back against the wall with your arms pushing against Hunk’s chest. But Hunk is secretly evil and reached to tickle your sides, using your new  momentary weakness to pull you back into his arms with a gentle kiss. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. But I’ll make it up to you.” 

“Oh yeah?”, You hummed and snuggled further into Hunk’s chest, absentmindedly tracing swirls into his skin while you waited. 

“In the morning though, because I really am tired Cupcake.”

“Oh fine. Goodnight love.”

“Hmmm, goodnight Cupcake. My sweet pudding angel. My Sugar bear. My ooey gooey–”

“Go to bed Hunk.”

You awoke hours later to Hunk gently running his hands up and down your body, massaging here and there with strong hands. “I see I missed out last night,” Hunk’s voice was low and husky as he pulled at your open robe, exposing the cute little number you were wearing last night and running a large hand down your stomach, sliding his thick fingers down between your thighs.

You gasped as he slipped a finger between your folds, “No underwear, huh? That’s dangerous.” He added a second finger that had you moaning at the stretch and began pumping slowly, moving his fingers in just the right way that had you arching in pleasure. You turned your head to capture his soft lips, making sure to grind your rear into his hips, swallowing his soft moans as he pressed harder against you, desperate for more friction against his growing erection.

“Please, Hunk…”, you didn’t want to wait, you’ve waited for weeks for this and finally, finally you had your man right where you wanted him. All you needed now was from him to–

“PALADINS GET TO YOUR LIONS IMMEDIATELY! WE’VE BEEN LOCKED ONTO BY A GALRA WARSHIP! I NEED YOU NOW!”

“Oh for fucks sake!”, you screamed at the speaker Allura’s voice came from has Hunk groaned in protest, already getting up to change into his armor. You both rolled your eyes and prepared for the fire-fight, all the while cursing the galra for their unfortunate timing.

“I’m just frustrated Allura, it’s like the universe is determined to keep us apart!” You viciously stabbed your not-quite-ice cream, like it was the aforementioned universe. Allura was curled up next to you in her bed, also eating ice cream while an old Altean soap opera played in the background. She took a thoughtful bite and waved her spoon around, “Welllll, I doubt it’s the universe.”

“Ugggh, no Allura, I’m being serious.” You took another bite, “Every time I try to spend a little, you know, ‘private time’ with Hunk he’s either too absorbed in a project, too tired from said project, in training, or he’s out fighting baddies. I feel like I can’t catch a break.”

“So you need to get laid?”

“I need to get laid. Keep your mitts of my ice cream”, you smacked her spoon away and she retaliated with a miniature spoon-sword fight. Thwarted she left you to your prize and pouted until you gave in and handed it over. She squealed in delight and dug in. 

“What do I do Allura?” 

“We were invited Melanor to celebrate its King’s birthday,” Allura mused, already forming a plan. “We could get you dolled up, play a little lion and mouse, and y’know…” She waggled her eyebrows in a suggestive manner that made you blush. 

But she had a point. You covered your red face with your hands, muffling your voice, “Let’s do it.”

“You won’t regret it!”

You frowned at your reflection in the mirror, Allura had done a great job but it was just so strange to see yourself looking…well, not like you. Bold lipstick, dark eye shadow, fake eyelashes, and enough highlighter to blind a passing ship made you look like a goddamn Queen. Which you were fine with, but the dress Allura got you in…it was something else. 

“Stop tugging at it!”, she smacked your hand away from the near-sheer material and continued to adjust the dress until it fit like a second skin across your stomach and hips. “I promise, this material clings to skin so once it’s in place, nothing will fall out. Look!” Allura twirled you so that you would be facing the mirror as she dipped you, causing you to look at yourself upside down and yep, everything was in place, defying gravity. The girls never looked better.

“Alright, alright, lift me up! Thanks.” You ran a hand down your sides, admiring the gold-black sheen as you moved. Satisfied that you really couldn’t see anything through the thin material you posed with a leg sticking dramatically out of the slit at your side a la Angelina Jolie. “I look perfect. Thanks, ‘Lura.”

“It was nothing! Now help me with the back of mine and lets get out there and dazzle!”

“Hey buddy?”

“Yeah, Lance?” Hunk looked up from adjusting his space-cufflinks as Lance slid over, “Looking good bro.”

Lance preened, “Right back at’chya, you handsome stud!” He shot his best friend finger guns and Hunk rolled his eyes and demanded Lance get to the point. “Ya’ caught me, Hunk. Can you tie my bow tie for me? I thought I remembered how but, guess not.” Lance shrugged and waggled the ends of his bow-tie in Hunk’s direction.

“Alright, yeah, get over here. How did you forget how to do this? After all those choir concerts I thought this would be like, ingrained in your muscles forever.” Hunk smiled as he remembered their six years in choir; it was how they met.

“You got me dude. I can remember a Windsor, a Nicky, a Cafe, even an Eldredge! But the bow-tie? It eludes me. Like some cruel mistress.” Always the dramatic Lance pretended to wipe away a tear.

Hunk quirked an eyebrow as he finished, “Whatever dude. There! You look like a movie star!”

“Ladies! Gents! Prepare to drop your panties.” Lance struck a pose as the other male paladins groaned in frustration. Keith even went so far as to chuck a cufflink at Lance’s head with a loud, “Come on!!! Seriously!?” Shiro just shook his head and lamented his fortune. 

“I do hope you’ll keep your uncouth behavior to yourself tonight, Lance.” Allura’s voice rang out through the hall, causing Lance to immediately duck behind Hunk. “Because your behavior in front of the Melanorian nobles reflects on me tonight. I .want it. to. go. well.”

Lance squeaked out a ‘Yes, ma’am’ from behind Hunk. You snuck up behind Allura and wrapped an arm around hers, “He was just kidding, ‘Lura. You know Lance, he’s just having fun.” Also who was she kidding? Was she not in on the attempt to get you laid tonight? Uncouth behavior indeed.

You shot a wink at Hunk who’s mouth had dropped open the moment he saw you. He blushed and immediately remembered that there were other people in the room who were seeing the same thing he was. His voice was menacing as he whirled around and pointed an accusing finger at his friends, “All of you keep your eyes to yourself.” Shiro, Lance, and Keith put their hands up and backed slowly away, murmuring words of agreement to keep their eyes from wandering too far. 

Satsfied, Hunk nodded and extended his hand towards yours and pulled you close, using the paladins’ averted attentions to give you a slow once over and a low whistle. “Lookin’ good babe.” Real good, if truth be told. Too good. And as you left for the party he wondered how long he could hold his naughty thoughts at bay.

Turns out, not very long. He felt his concentration slipping as he watched you dance with the Melanorian King who he was pretty sure was twirling you around more than strictly necessary for this dance. His grip on his cup was reaching dangerous levels as the King whispered something in your ear that made you laugh. 

He appeased himself by imagining how good it would feel to punch the King in the face. Maybe like four times before picking him up and chucking him out the balcony. His dark thoughts were interrupted by Lance removing the nearly crushed cup from his hands with a smirk, “How’s it going buddy?”

“I want to hit him.” An unnecessary dip made Hunk’s eye twitch.

“Yeah? He’s pretty bold huh.” Lance swirled his drink nonchalantly, taking a sip before continuing, “I mean, who can blame him. Y/N looks bangin’.”

“Best friends or not Lance, say that again and I will hit you.” Not really but Hunk would consider it, “But you’re right.”

“I know. I also know it’s been a long time since you two had some one-on-one time.” Lance smiled as Hunk tensed, “It must be hard, seeing her dolled up and having a great time when there’s other things you two could–”

“Do you have a point Lance?”, Hunk really didn’t need to hear Lance speak on his, currently uneventful, love life. Also he was so, so right and with every passing minute Hunk felt his resolve ebbing away. He should be the one dancing with you, the one making you laugh, the one with his arms wrapped around your waist. 

“My point is,” Lance leaned in close, “’Lura told me we were given private rooms. Labelled and everything on the 5th floor.” Hunk snuck a glance at his smug face, not thoroughly understanding what Lance was hinting at. Lance felt his face fall, “Dude, seriously?”

“Yeah dude what–Oh my god.”

“Yeah buddy! Now go get some!” Lance thumped Hunk on the back and he stumbled a few steps. The song was ending so really, there was no time like the present. Mustering up his courage (and maybe some frustration) Hunk puffed out his chest and strutted over to where you were busy extracting yourself from the King’s wandering hands. With a final bow you turned around and bumped right into Hunk’s chest with a muffled ‘oof!’

“Wonderful dancing Your Majesty,” Hunk’s strong hands rested on your upper arms as he glared at the King, “But I’m afraid I need my girlfriend. My partner. The love of my life. So we’re gonna–y’know, go.” He bowed just enough to not be rude and steered you away with firm grip on your shoulders. 

You were grateful. One more twirl and you were sure you were going to throw up on the King’s shoes. “Thanks Hunk, I was sure he was gonna rope me into another one.” When Hunk didn’t answer you looked up at him but his face was set in a grim line, was he mad at you? No, that couldn’t be right. “Hunk?”

“Hm? Oh sorry, I’m just scared that I offended the King. That was okay, right?” You smiled, of course it was okay. Only Hunk could waltz into a situation like a bad-ass and then be worried about stepping on toes. You stopped him and stepped up on your toes to give your sweet man a kiss,  “Of course it was. It was actually kind of hot, you being assertive.” 

He blushed and pulled you into a tight hug, “Good. Because Lance tells me we have private rooms.” Lance? You were confused but over Hunk’s shoulder you could see Allura and him high-five and blow kisses your way, like the true best friends they were.

“I’ve already waited weeks big man, what are you waiting for?” He didn’t need telling twice and you two never returned to the party.

[punkscowardschampions]

Rio & Buster

Rio: Didn't say you had a girlfriend Rio: but you can tell her she's hitting me up with the back off too late and under fucked up misunderstanding, like 😂 Buster: Didn't say it 'cause I don't Buster: If some girl wishes that's her problem Buster: And yours now like 😂 Rio: It ain't funny, blowing up my phone making me look suspect, like Rio: anyway, Nance gave me the lowdown already so I know she's a cunt so I don't have to hold back Buster: Who's laughing? Buster: Send her my way if she's that desperate Buster: The lads are boring like Rio: Seriously? Rio: No I will Rio: if you're gonna do your own like that you can sort it yourself, not her pimp Rio: not* Buster: Whatever Rio: It so isn't but that's on you Rio: Are you lot out tonight then? Buster: Course Buster: You think I'm waiting at home for you, babe? Rio: Har dee har Rio: sounds like you had a cosy night in in mind tbf Rio: where you going then, wanna meet up? Buster: Not got the light or kettle on like Buster: Sick of the lad already? Rio: Yeah, what you had in mind Rio: Nah, but 2 ain't a party Rio: and I'm going home tomorrow so Buster: Wanna see if he can hang Buster: Fair Buster: I'll bring the party to you then, babe Rio: Pretty much Rio: You're feeling chipper today Buster: I'll insult you when I get there if you really want Rio: Not my kink Rio: would get us back to the status quo though Buster: Just buzzing 'cause you're off home and outta my way like Buster: Can't blame me Rio: I bet Buster: Not looking forward to kicking it in your own ends any more or what? Buster: I know you'll miss me but come on Rio: Nah but it ain't gonna be all fun and games when I get back is it Rio: Shit to sort Rio: but gotta be done Rio: and you wish Rio: I got reason to come back and annoy you some more now Buster: You're not gonna get grounded Buster: Don't worry about it Buster: And I know, kid Buster: Always making it obvious, Cavante Rio: Don't be daft Rio: I've gotta look out for Nance Rio: avoid another ex Rio: all that drama Rio: You're OBVIOUSLY deranged, McKenna Buster: You're used to all that shit many times over Buster: You got this, ma Rio: Shut up! 😂 Rio: Doesn't mean I don't get tired of it Buster: It ain't my fault you've had more exes than I've had fam dinners Buster: Not even starting on family bullshit of yours Buster: Well I'll sort you a decent line when I get there, put a pep back in your step, yeah? Rio: Yeah it is Rio: No show, you are Rio: and bet you've had more, just 'cos you ain't claiming 'em Rio: Go for it Buster: Fuck off I'm being nice here Buster: Trying to give you a proper going away and you're trying to fight me Rio: 🤷 Rio: Soz Rio: Only way I know how, clearly, all those exes, like Buster: What's wrong, babe? I know you ain't gonna miss me that bad so what is it? Rio: You shouldn't fuck Chloe Rio: Idk, you shouldn't have put that in my head Buster: I haven't Buster: She's not my type. I know what you reckon but I do have some standards Rio: Alright, good Rio: Too many lines already, I'm paranoid Rio: she's bad news Buster: Come get some fresh air with me then Buster: Plenty of people say that about me, like. Not that I'm trying to make a connection to her. Fuck that Rio: Might help Rio: Thought you were with your boys though Rio: Yeah but, at least you're upfront about what you are, good or bad Rio: 🐍 Buster: They'll be fine if I don't hold their hands through every song, babe Buster: She's really got to you, yeah? Rio: I'm just being dramatic, too many strangers here Rio: but she did a number on Nancy, that I know for facts, stand by the bad vibes even if I could relax on it rn Buster: Where are you, specifics. I'm come and get you if you ain't coming out Buster: Find those cunts later Rio: Idk, ages away from yours Rio: we're meant to be but the pre-party still going strong Rio: I'll meet you somewhere? Buster: Keep your phone on, I'll be that stalker and work out where you are Buster: Meet you near Rio: Not just a pretty face, ladies and gents Rio: It's alright, just pick a club, no need to ruin the night Buster: At least you're finally admitting how hot I am Rio: 🙄 Really needing the ego boost, yeah? Sure 👌😂 Buster: Find you in The Grand, yeah? Rio: Got it Buster: Half an hour max Rio: Cool, I'm nearer than you so I'll see you in there Rio: *He'd obviously been offended she wanted to leave the party and get a headstart on him on the town, but it was way too soon to show it (thank fuck) and still save face, so she got out without much pouting and whining. Only needed to take one bus, turns out she was about five minutes down the road from Clapham, tops; good to know. Maybe that was why she was feeling so out of it? Not knowing where she was, and who with? Been in that scenario before though and she'd not got this rattled so- blatant bullshit. Rio didn't plan on admitting it to him, but it had way more to do with Buster McKenna than was healthy. Head fuck.  This is why they avoided each other, and had for a while now. It weren't no good trying to just be nice to each other, always went too far. And arguing and being cunts didn't exactly cool the energy between 'em either. No, ignoring each other's existence was key. And yet here she was, going out to party with him. Well fucking done, girl. She rolled her eyes at herself, jogging up and down on the spot impatiently, near enough to the front of the club's queue now she needed to remember to look her hottest so they'd let her in faster. And result. She was in, no coat to put up, so she was away. Barstool, 'round of vodka shots, sorted. Toes tapping, faster than the beat of this shit tune. It was pretty early still, the club only now filling up. Shouldn't have an issue finding her. Not that it was a good idea but finish what they'd started now, like.* Buster: *The lads had been chilling at his since the afternoon doing fuck all of much but getting on his nerves, and when Barnaby suggested getting the drinks in and making something of the night he wasn't even the most relieved of the lot of them, like, so face saved there. Nice one, lad. It was the first decent favor any of them had done him in Christ knows how long, not that he was letting it show. Not a fucking amateur at that either, cheers. There was a girl he'd swiped that was why he was keen to be off. No other reason that they'd had to be privy to. James had been chatting about his cousin since he got with her and Buster wasn't trying to add to that conversation. They didn't know what they were fucking saying anyway. Silly pricks. Let them wonder and speculate over his antics tonight with the Tinder blonde, or any other, they loved it. He had his own mind full of bullshit that he personally didn't love. Worry was a new emotion regarding Rio, one that he didn't feel confident over dealing with, and a lack of confidence was even newer territory than giving a shit about Cavante's emotions. Or so he told himself before he racked up the lines to turn all that off for a while. Worked out proper well for him that had, here he was off and running to cheer her up or what the fuck ever. What was his fucking goal meant to be? Soft cunt. Gonna send her goodnight texts later or what, like? Stupid. Get real all he was gonna do was buy her some watered down drinks for as long as she let him. Big fucking deal and no great help. Still, as soon as he was in he took the stool next to her and did exactly that, ordering more of what she already had.* Rio: *And just like that, he was there by her side. As if this was all standard and they did it all the time. This week maybe but neither of them should get too fucking cosy with the idea, like. She took her share of the drinks without protest, even though she had nothing but empties to offer by the time he arrived. * Next round, like. *She shrugged, spinning the nearest shot glass aimlessly, avoiding eye contact She then spun herself to face the dance floor, like she was surveying the talent from her perch on high. This was fucking ridiculous. He'd be saying as much if she didn't act fast. Jumping up, the tunes still not there but she'd have to make do. As she weaved her way through the crowds, she took a second to break the rules and make eye contact, looking back at him and motioning with a question of 'are you coming?' hanging in the air.* Buster: *He wasn't listening to her 'cause that's how focused he had to be on not staring at her. She looked so fucking good. He'd said as much the other day, believing it when he did, but this was different. He felt it bones deep and more crucially, didn't know how not to show he was being affected. Fuck's sake. No more coke for him until he got his shit together like. Sort your head out, you twat. He shook it, playing as if he was shrugging off her offer to pay 'cause it was better she reckoned he was trying to buy her off again than- What? For the second time tonight he was already asking himself what the fuck he was trying to achieve. Shit. At least before he could chat any more nonsense to himself, or her, Rio was up and away. Not far enough given how easy dancing made it to be close, like, but a reprieve he could count in seconds. Breaths to take. Buster should've known in the next minute she'd steal it all off him with a look. Course. It was an old game. And he'd never once played by the rules, had he? It was too late to start now. He wasn't no choir boy and she was leaving in the morning she'd said. Fuck it. Not a fucking amateur, remember? He'd call her bluff and cheer her up before this shit tune was done. It was just dancing, who the hell was he if he couldn't handle that, yeah? Rio: *Again, screaming internally, asking what the fuck she thought she was doing and why the hell she was doint it; All the while making no effort to slow down, never mind stop. So glad he couldn't read her as well as he claimed, the fucking laugh he'd have about how much she was silently protesting (much too much for it to be anything but mortifying; and very bloody telling). Still, she knew the feeling of eyes lingering on her body well enough by now to know that's what was happening, what he was doing, despite himself. Despite herself, and what a good, sensible girl should do, she smirked, smug satisfaction at taking the lead in both senses. Fuck it, she could say it was the coke making her act up. If he was feeling brave enough in his own good behaviour to question it after. Not likely. So why not? She wanted this right now, so she was going for it. Whatever 'it' was. Stop thinking. Let your body takeover completely. With that in mind, or out of it, she began to move, getting closer to him than was necessary, routine full of 'almost' contact, designed to tease.* Buster: *The song was still shit but he wasn't listening to it either now. Couldn't hear anything but the sound of two heartbeats, his thumping enough to be shaming if he gave a fuck about anything other than getting closer than she already was to him, and hers once he was, echoing such a similar beat. There was smugness in having her rhythm there alongside the intrusion of his, literally hammering away at her pretense of utter control too. Loud and clear for him, drowning out everything that had been said before. Bullshit. Necessary but still ridiculous to look back on from where they were now. Nice try, Cavante, 'cause guess what, I know you are, babe. He wore a smirk to match hers, letting his 'routine' in turn spell out that the teasing shit had gone on long enough, while the hand which had settled on her waist as he moved pulled her body into his. He'd snorted his fair share of lines if he needed something to blame it on other than just being fucking over it and wanting to play a new game and it was unlikely she was gonna challenge him at this point. Hardly blameless herself, yeah? Whatever.* Rio: *She looks down at where his hand has ended up, eyes traveling back up to meet his, slowly, appreciating his body as she did so, letting him know she knew it was anything but a happy accident, but that she wasn't going to say anything either way. Hardly could now, could she? A silent deal being made on the floor tonight. 'This stays between us.' It didn't mean anything, like. Just sexual attraction, however fucked. She wouldn't hold it against his character if he didn't against hers. What happened in the club, like. Such a fucking cliche, Christ; but she felt like being one just this once if it felt this good. She had her back towards him now, winding up and down, hips clashing, making her ache. Before Rio could stop herself (a reoccurring theme of her time with him, it seemed), she had placed her hands over his, still on her waist, and was moving them down, to where she wanted them right now. Fuck. He was definitely going to pull away now, probably have some choice words for how sick and creepy and wrong she was and she didn't have a leg to stand on, no case to fight. Before he could, thinking fast (hopefully faster than he could), she pulls gently on his neck, so she can reach his ear to shout into it, shit tunes always being played too loud.* You promised me a line. Buster: *He shouldn't be this turned on by a few dance moves and unwavering eye contact but he is and there was no way she couldn't know, bodies pressed against each other as tightly as they were. Fucking hell. Yeah, he could lie to himself that it was the fault of the rich, white girls he usually approached not knowing how to dance without doing shit imitations of their current favorite pop icon or being too eager to check him out (sizing him up the same as he did them) to hold his gaze, but that's all it'd be, more bullshit when he'd already said no more.  It was too fucking obvious what this was about and what he wanted. And every movement of hers was as telling. None more so than when she stopped herself, 'cause it was forced in a way that none of their other actions had been, thought out instead of fluid. Of course, immediately after came a brief moment when he reckoned she was gonna nibble on his earlobe or something. No going back then, like, but he should've realised the headfuck was gonna come from a more familiar (as far as Rio Cavante was concerned) direction. Christ. When was the last time another girl had left him wanting more, this much and this soon? Buster couldn't remember. Couldn't think.  State of him.  At least her pulling away to speak let him breathe. He smirked again, faking regaining more composure than he had around her as standard, never mind on a night like this. Nodding his head in the direction of the toilets briefly, he leaned in to reply. * Come on, let's get you sorted. Rio: *She took him by the hand, pulling him through the crowd with an impatience they could both pretend was about coke. Yeah, right. Neither of 'em was fooled or in the mood for fooling now. Her mind had been fully made up for her when his reaction of outrage, disgust, and horror hadn't come; but the opposite had, the hardness she felt tight against her mirroring the ache she felt, less obvious outwardly but, was it though? He knew. She knew he knew so time to do something about it, boy! Now or never, like. Door swinging behind 'em, pulling him into the first free cubicle, reaching behind his frame to lock up, purposely trailing her hand against his exposed forearm, outstretched fingers softly trailing along the veins there, taut between ample muscle and goosebumped skin. Fucking hell. It wasn't her fault he was so god damn attractive. Regret it in the morning. She'd be long gone by then. Breaking eye contact away from where it had fallen below the belt (oops), she grinned, green meeting blue, breathing as laboured as heart.* Go on then... Buster: *The last thing he should have done was followed her into a space where every time his body shifted (however fucking subtly. Or not) it brushed somehow against hers, bringing them back to teasing each other, 'cause unless he pushed her fully against the cubicle wall there was no way to create the blatant friction they both craved, and he wasn't about to do that. Not yet. If she wanted coke, she was gonna have it. Simple as. Just as well that act was though, distracted as he'd become, like. If Buster let himself look back on any of tonight (not wise but nevertheless still likely) he'd pat himself on the back for once again not being a fucking amateur, fine chopping the lines on his coffee table before he came out so all that was left was to unwrap that shit, lay hers out and roll up a note. He'd been on autopilot getting the drugs from his pocket, breathing ragged as hers, the feeling of her stare (and where it was purposefully aimed) leaving him incapable of coherent thought about anything else. Fuck. He wanted her so bad. His own eyes fixed on the locked door, checking and rechecking, focused solely on trying to do that until the memory of her touching his arm resurfaced and then all he could think of was the idea that formed. He smirked for...what a third time? ... Christ knows, before laying her coke out on another, higher patch of exposed skin, eyebrow raised, wordlessly asking Rio how badly she wanted her share now.* Rio: *And there it was. Another silent challenge, a dare. No need for fucking words creating any unwanted space between them, made her wonder why they'd ever bothered when this was so, SO much better. No comparison. Of course, the answer was they bothered so they didn't end up here but she wasn't listening to sense tonight, fuck off. Right now, she WANTED to be here, nowhere else she'd rather, frankly. Fret over it later, like. Or not. It felt TOO damn right to call it wrong. So she wouldn't. And he wouldn't. And no one else need ever know. She wants to hesitate, knows she should. Eyebrows raising to make some display of being all 'really?', like she's so scandalized or not into it, only doing it 'cos she couldn't refuse a dare, could she? But Rio Cavante didn't even flinch, crashing into him full force, pushing him against the door, arms wrapped around his neck to steady herself, steady them both. This close, the heat of him unbearably sexy, his body was so toned and fucking perfect, Christ! She felt dizzy with it, sweat was slicking the white powder to his naked skin, collar bone a natural shelf to hold it. The temptation to lick it off him like salt for a tequila shot was almost too much but she didn't want to be accused of wasting the coke, so she pressed her nose into him, snorting it with ease, shuddering more from the sensation of being this close than anything else, tipping her head back in pleasure, hoping he didn't hear the small moan than found its way out.* Fuck! *Snapping her head back, rubbing her nose with a sniff, damn. Okay. She obviously had to one-up him. What else was a girl to do, yeah? She moved away, to the bag still laid out on the top of the loo, grabbing it 'fore he had a chance to stop her or do anything else to drive her crazy. Shit, she had to take back some control, like! She smirked back at him, the solution to her problem of how to best Buster McKenna becoming obvious as she looked down. Racking it up on her ample cleavage, as if to say, triple dog dare you, McKenna* Buster: *There was half a second as his shoulder blades hit the door, rattling the hinges with the force of their bodies colliding again, closer than they'd been yet somehow but still, at the same time - impossibly- not enough, that he wanted to tell her 'fuck the coke' or something like it. Swore he could almost feel the words tumbling out, begging practically for her to just fucking kiss him instead. But he didn't. Or make a move to himself either. As soon as he heard her moan he knew why, even though they'd waited years and his entire body was insisting that he couldn't any more, refusing in the form of his own shudders as he stood there, knees weak from barely any contact. Fuck's sake. There was so much promise in that sound that Buster grinned, holding her gaze with baited breath until she gave his eyes no choice but to travel with her, settling exactly where she planned for them to. * Oh fuck. *If she said anything about him stealing the words out of her mouth later (not that they could chat about any of this casually) he'd deny it, not realising an echo had escaped from him as he launched himself towards her, lifting her slightly so she rose to meet his bowed head easily. Finally Rio's back landed hard (thankfully against wood same as his had rather than cold, dirty porcelain) with force enough that she'd feel it tomorrow. He wanted that more than anything, even as his line disappeared, snorted all too soon. Fuck her trying to pretend she didn't remember, if her mind pulled that shit her body would call her a liar. He'd made sure of that, like. There was always more he could do though, and he didn't hesitate to put his mouth on the skin she'd already offered him, kisses desperately hard and bruising as his hands trailed lightly down her body, skimming each curve more brazenly than he'd ever looked her up and down before. Christ that seemed like a lifetime ago, her beckoning him onto the dance floor. Not that it mattered. Too much had happened to go back now and there was well more than he needed to happen still.* Rio: *Her cries, a mixture of pleasure and pain as she was unceremoniously slammed into the wall, caught in her throat. Like she couldn't express how much she wanted this, NEEDED this. And she couldn't. No moaning or dirty talk was going to cut it but she could but try. Knowing he knew regardless, and that he felt it too, only amped it up further.* You want me so bad, huh?* Stating the obvious for her own satisfaction, no question mark needed. Muffled curses at him; warning him if he dared stop, to do more, worse, faster, harder, NOW; acting as their version of pillow talk. Pulling his hair, novelty of being above him in the literal. Rio found purchase, sitting atop the toilet, kicking the seat down so he could kneel as she spread her legs for him, pushing his head down, showing him where she needed him.* Please, Buster, please... *She didn't care that this was a club bathroom, that people could definitely hear them, that they'd be hearing a lot more soon if she had anything to do with it. That he was her fucking cousin. Fuck. She just did not care about anything but having him touch her, fuck her. But before he could, there was a monstrous bang on the door that rattled the hinges harder than they had only a few minutes previous.* Shit! Legs clamping shut, jumping down from the seat, pocketing the drugs in her bra without hesitation, she clambered over him, pushing him back, so he was sat down.* I got this, yeah? Worry about yourself. Catch you later... *Rio murmured, squeezing his hand in the hope he'd fucking listen to her, not trusting a coked out McKenna to deal with what was clearly a bouncer and not just a punter desperate for a piss, like. She squeezed out of the smallest possible gap in the door, shutting it behind her, so Buster wasn't spotted.* Buster: *Fuck me. *Holy shit, every word out of her mouth was fucking him up but it was the begging that REALLY sent him over and made him use a phrase that was ridiculously literal. He couldn't help it, knowing that she wanted him bad enough to say that shit out loud what he hadn't when the coke first came out, made more than his knees go weak. He was about to insist that she told him what she wanted again, just to hear it, biting his lip to prevent a moan from coming out before the sentence did when something makes everything stop. It turned his wants back to fantasy, yet again becoming a scenario that wouldn't happen. 'Cause he isn't stupid. As much as many other parts of him were desperate to ignore the pounding on the door, his head, coked out as it is, still knows that they can't. The hired muscle out there wouldn't let them. Shit. It was somehow the unrealest part of this, fucked up as that sounded even to no other ears but his own, that this was how the night was going to end, not how he'd finally let himself want it to. They'd both given in, fully, and there was no pretending at this point (whatever he might convince himself of later, dismissing the night as a weird headfuck etc etc) the drugs were why he wanted her so badly. And worse, all they were now were the reason why he couldn't have her. Fuck's sake. Buster hadn't felt a surge of anger overwhelm him this utterly -suddenly too- since his sister left. Wherever he looked was flooded red, and for Rio's frantic movement, the only thing he managed to do was bite his tongue and clench his fists. Until she'd gone and then he stood up, immediately pacing (an agitated cokehead cliche) the cubicle transformed into a cage he didn't dare leave in this state. Just as well 'cause the next second had him striking out, kicking out hard at the space where their bodies had been, with as much power as he felt had been robbed from him. The wood protested one last time, drowning every sound in his head out with the crash, thank fuck. The cubicle didn't fall to pieces, of fucking course, 'cause it was another thing he needed to happen and he sank back onto the toilet seat, taking shallow breaths.*

[romanceabstained]

Introductions

Here we are, nearly 2 weeks into the new year and I’m just finally getting this thing up and running. Oh well, better late then never.

Right, introductions. Hi there, I’m Dani. 26. Basic regular girl, book-worm-fan-girl-colored-hair cliche person and I realized(over many stupid moments over the last few years) that I don’t handle love in the right way. 

Now, you can argue that there is no right way, that each love is special to each individual blah blah blah. But we can all agree that there is a certain Code of Conduct when one is making their way through the bog of potential romantic interests right?

Yeah well I have no clue what they are really. Aside from what movies have taught me, I am bereft of any useful bit of information to help me move ahead in the quest to find a husband- no wait, wrong century.

I’m the simple hope of finding what I had assumed seemed rather reasonable. You know, the basic to be understood. Someone to laugh with. Someone to travel through this ridiculous and crazy thing we call living with. 

Reasonable right? Maybe, maybe not.

Some back story: I have really limit experience dating. I’ve had 2 long term relationships and one very short one that was really just a week long canoodle session and an agreement that really we’re better off mates. This last year after recovering from a particularly bad breakup, I decided to embrace my 20′s in the proper movie-lover fashion. Throw myself into dating with any sort of meaningless rolls in the hay that I decided I wanted. Luckily now being in 2020 I don’t really have to be ashamed in saying that I enjoyed the company of a fair few gents(and one lovely lady but that’s another story) and I learned lots about me. But at the end of it all I didn’t feel any wiser, I didn’t feel like it had served anything other than a pathetic attempt at a year long Bacchanalia. 

One night always stands firm in my mind as when I decided that this, whatever it was, I wasn’t cut out for it. A build up of hope in me at potential forward momentum. What actually happened was about 7 minutes of wet kisses, a fumbled tumble into bed, and before I could even really get my bearings, he was heading for the door without so much as a kiss goodnight or even a “had a nice time”. And then immediately blocked my number. I slumped onto my kitchen floor, feelign like I just really needed a shower. I deleted the dating apps after that.

You see I could handle the bad dates where they stood me up. I could even understand the ones who flirted more with the waitstaff or the one who took one look at me and simply stated “No.” and walked back out the door. Weirdly I get it all, because dating is one heck of a minefield. 

But at least my other encounters had treated me with civility at the end of it all, made it feel like it was a mutual exchange of a good time. 

This one didn’t. I felt very used in the worse possible way. You could argue I did it to myself, I’d had enough one night stands that I should have expected this right? It only makes sense that it would eventually happen right?

Well that’s why I’m here. Because maybe I am the only one to blame in encounters like that. I made my choice, I got caught up in the potential and didn’t see what they were actually like.

So! That’s (sort of) what brings us here, my one year romantic diet if you will. No dates, no sex, no daydreaming. Zip, zilch, nada. I’m allowing romcoms because COME ON I’M HUMAN AND I NEED HAPPY THINGS but we’re taking this year to delve into why I think like I do about love. How far off I might be, how unhealthy some of these things are, and if I decide to lift this at the end of the year, what I might bring into the future with me. 

Thanks for listening to me ramble! Wish me luck!

D.

[endeavour-love-blog]

Sway Pt.2

“As you see,” said the manager to the pair of them in his office,along with Mrs Armstrong “we've sold 19 pairs of the particular stocking you were after. Thirteen to some six account holders. The remaining five to casual shoppers. So, if Mrs Haldane did buy a pair, she certainly didn't charge it to her account. And we've no record of the other two names you've asked for, Mrs Curran-Matthews and Mrs Merchant.” “Do you recognise them, Mrs Armstrong?” asked Morse, handing over the photos of the women. “I recognise this lady from the newspapers, but no, I never served any of them. There was a knock on the door and a man walked in, “Mr Quinbury…” “Oh, sir,” the manager stood up and gestured to Morse and Amber, “may I present Detective Constable Morse of the City Police and Miss Blanche, who aids the police with their enquiries.” The man smiled and nodded as they all shook hands, “This is Mr Alan Burridge, the proprietor.” “Forgive me, please,” said Mr Burridge, “Mr Quinbury gave me to understand we might resolve this issue without troubling the police.” “Which issue, sir?” asked Morse. “The officer is here in regard of another matter, sir. These stranglings” said the manager. “I see.” “One of the victims held an account here, sir,” he continued, “A Mrs Haldane.” “My goodness.How awful. Well, of course, if there's any way we can be of use?” “Thank you, sir. Mr Quinbury's been very helpful.” said Amber. “Well, then, I'll leave you to it.” he said as he left the room. Amber looked through the list of the accounts, “What's this amongst her purchases? Ronson. Engraved. Oh ...It's a Gents lighter.” “We have a key-cutting service in the basement,” explained the manager, “Mr Jopling, our principal cutter, handles all the engraving.” “Would it be possible to find out what Mrs Haldane had engraved?” asked Morse. “Certainly.””She has also bought a couple of pairs of cufflinks and a gents tie-pin.” added Amber, taping Morse on his forearm, “A description of those items would be very useful.” The telecomme rang through to the officer, the receptionist said through the line,”Another policeman to see you.” “Send him in.” he said, rolling his eyes. “Afternoon, sir. Detective Inspector Thursday. Oxford City Police.” Mrs Armstrong stood up in shock, “Sergente Giovedi? Fredo?” “Si.” said Thursday, in utter shock. Mrs Armstrong's eyes rolled as she fainted, Morse reached out to catch her.

“Sir?” said Morse, walking up to Thursday outside. “Must have been the shock,” said Thursday, “That's all. I knew Mrs, is it?” “Armstrong.” “Mrs Armstrong….during the war. They had it bad, her people. She doesn't want all that bringing up again. Look, you'd better take her through whatever she's got to say about this stocking business.” “Of course.”  “I'll see you back at the nick.” said Thursday, as he rushed off.

“You can't come in here.” a man with a trolley said as Morse walked into the store room. “Staff only. N-N-Not c-c-customers.” he stammered. “It's alright, Norman,” said Mr Burridge, “This gentleman is with the police.” “Yes, sir.” “Oh, Mister Burridge,” said Morse as he began to walk off, “what issue was it you'd hoped might be resolved without involving the police?” “A small amount of petty pilfering,” he brushed off, “Nothing we can't resolve within the store, I'm sure.” “Well, if you do need our assistance.” “Of course. Thank you.”

“Mrs Armstrong's been with us three years” said Mr Quinbury to Morse, back in the office. “Widowed, sadly. She's powdering her nose... Your pretty helper is in there with her. Did your colleague say ...erm?” “The war.” “Ah”. “Strange. I look around, people going about their business, living their lives. You wonder sometimes whether any of it really happened. Forgive and forget, I suppose.” Morse walked over and picked up a photo of the manager stood next to a plane in uniform. “11 Group. Spits. Kenley. One of the lucky ones. Walking wounded.” he said, knocking his wooden leg.

Mrs Armstrong was back in the office now, accompanied by Amber. “You'd remember if a man had ever bought a pair, presumably?” asked Morse. “A man? Si.” she smiled widely, “But No. No. Nothing like that.” “Unless there was anything else,” interjected the manager, rubbing his hands “perhaps Mrs Armstrong could return to work? “Of course. Of course.” If I remember anything else... Where can I find you?” she asked. “Cowley Road Police Station.” said Morse, handing her a card, “My number's on the card.” “Your, er colleague…” “He had to return to the station. Sends his regrets.” “Yes….Of course.” she said as she walked out. Morse turned to the manager, “Is there anywhere else you know of in Oxford that stocks Le Minou Noir?” “You'd need to ask the suppliers. A Mr Lisk at Goldfarb-Ligourin.” he said, reaching into his desk for a card and handing it to him. “Oh. Well, thank you.”

Thursday, Morse and the doctor were all in Bright’s office, updating him. “So, what have we got on our hands?” started off Bright, “A sex killer, hmm?” “Doctor?” prompted Thursday. “Both Mrs Merchant and Mrs Curran-Matthews had engaged in coitus within a few hours of death,” he began, “But, like Mrs Haldane, there was no evidence of force having been used. There is one thing you might want to bear in mind. I've only just had initial reports on Mrs Curran-Matthews' clothing, but the skirt is showing traces of calcium sulphate dihydrate. Gypsum.” he said, handing over the reports. “A plasterer, then, some sort of manual labourer.” said Bright. “It's also used as a fertilizer, I believe,” added Morse. “An agricultural connection?” expanded Bright. “She might have come into contact with the material through wholly innocent means.” informed the doctor. “Nothing like that showed up on the first victim, Mrs Merchant?” asked Morse. “No, and it'll be a day or two before we've a result back on Mrs Haldane's clothing.”

“I showed her a photograph of Mrs Haldane but she'd no recollection of having served her.” said Morse to Thursday, taking him home. “Oh.” “How was it you knew Mrs Armstrong?” “I told you, the war.” replied Thursday, bluntly. Morse waited a second or two, before changing the subject, “The engraving on the lighter wasn't much use either. Just 'They asked me how I knew'” “'Smoke Gets in Your Eyes.” finished Thursday, “Present for her fancy man, I expect.”  “Think it's him?” “I know the type. Bleed 'em for all they've got, move on to the next meal ticket.” “Why not just drop them? To sleep with all three then strangle them seems a bit?” “Maybe it's just his thing? Maybe he'd had money off 'em and they were looking to make trouble? Who knows with women-haters?”

After dropping Thursday off at home, Morse went up, back into the city, to Amber’s flat. She’d caught him in the office earlier and said their friendship was over, unless he came to hers tonight, to make everything even again. She was of course joking, but Morse didn’t want to take that risk. He wanted to get to know her, every little thing about her. He went up the stairs, and knocked on the door. Inside he could hear music playing, Edith Piaff, Je ne regrette rien. He heard Amber inside, singing along to herself. Morse smiled and laughed through his nose. The door opened to Amber, in a black skater dress, with long sleeves and a red collar. Her hair was down and flowed down to her chest. Morse smiled at the sight of her, he’d never seen her with her hair down before, given they’d always met under professional circumstances. “Hello, stranger,” she said when she saw him, “Come on in.” Morse stepped through the door and took everything in, all her furniture, her pictures, the smell coming from within. “What are you cooking?” said Morse, taking off his jacket and pointing at the pot on the stove. “Sausage and mash” she said, laughing at Morse. “Sorry, it’s not some French delicacy, I thought I’d just stick to basics” Morse chuckled as he sat down at the small table in her kitchen. It was intimate to say the least, her flat wasn’t the biggest, but it was homely and warm, Morse felt as though he was just being given an endless warm hug. Amber served the food and sat down with Morse. They talked about everything and anything. It was like they’d known each other for years, not weeks. The night came to an end and Morse headed to the door, “I’ve had a great night, thank you for coming” “I’ve had a great night too, thank you for the food, it was lovely. Your company too.” Amber smiled and looked at the floor, going shy, “So, was that a date or....” “I don't know,” said Morse, “Maybe we should do it again, just to be sure if it was a date or not. I’ll take you out this time.” “Amber looked up and smiled, “Well, I'd better...” she said, pointing at the clock. “Of course. Goodnight.” “Night.” Morse headed out the door before turning back around, “What time does your shift finish on Bonfire Night?” “Midnight. Why? I'll pick you up.” said Morse, surprisingly Morse as he headed back down the hall and outside. Amber watched him go, and caught herself; grinning from ear to ear

[allfineundandy]

The Modern Gentleman’s Guide to Dating

A new season is the perfect time to meet your sole mate. But remember gents, one should always start off on the right foot. So how do you get the woman of your dreams?

After all, a good soul should know how to recognise a great sole.

1 - Never keep a lady waiting

What was it Alice's White Rabbit would say.  "I am late, I am late for a very important date...."? In the modern world of cell phones, it can be easy to make loose plans and text if you are running later but just think back to the good old days, when you couldn’t be tardy late otherwise the other person would have just left. Remember one can never make a first impression twice and time waits for no man.

2 - Step away from your phone

Unless you are Tony Stark, an on-call doctor or have a relative in the hospital, there really is no excuse for checking your phone during dinner. At best, it makes you look bored and at worst makes you like an adolescent. Just don’t.

3 - Be gregarious to everyone

Treat every person you encounter on the date, the waiter, the cab driver, the woman who accidently bumped your chair. How you are around others is an utterly accurate indicator of your truer self and trust us, she’ll be watching you every step you take, every move you make…

4 - Open the door for her

Sure, this sounds like simple advice, but you’d be surprised how many a fair maiden has had the door slammed in her face. Honourable men used to hold the door open for anyone, regardless of gender. Perhaps we’re old-fashioned, but let us not let this etiquette slip in the modern era. Yes, you can still believe in gender equality and hold the door open for a lady. It’s not sexist, it’s just common courtesy. 

5 - Err on the side of caution whilst drinking

If in doubt, stick to the golden two motto. No more than two drinks. Of course, one wants to loosen one’s pre-jitters with a glass, but any more than two and you’re in the danger zone. When you hopefully kiss her goodnight, the last impression you want to leave her with doesn’t include boozer’s breath

6 - Wait for her to eat before you do

It might go unnoticed if you wait for her plate to arrive before you tuck into your own. But if you do start before here, a little mental cross will be scored in her mind. It’s just plain bad manners to eat before her. Simon Sineck has a fantastic talk on why leaders should eat last and unconsciously the same rules apply in dating.

7 – Listen to her

There is nothing worse that someone who uses the time someone else is speaking to interrupt with their own grandiose anecdote to impress. Far more impressive is to actually listen to her. Charming people understand instinctively the importance of making someone feel special. Good conversation is defined as two people taking turns in talking and listening. It’s astonishing how many people don’t take the time to actually listen. You have two ears. Use them.

8 - Be creative about where you take her

Location, location, location. Where you choose to go on the date says volumes about you. It shows your level of creativity and originality. And who doesn’t want to be the guy who swept her off her feet with an experience of a lifetime? Ok we’re not talking as grand as Richard Gere in Pretty Women chartering a private jet to take Julia Roberts to the opera in Italy. But a little thought and planning will make all the difference.

9 - Always walk her home or get her a cab

Although nothing is as important as the first date, the respect you show her at the end will be the last thing she thinks about before going to sleep that night. Go on, make your mother proud. 

10 - Text her once you arrive home.

Regardless of how well the date went, as a matter of courtesy and on principle, one should always message once you arrive home.

11 - Wear good shoes. Obviously.

You don’t just need the statistics to tell you that one of the first things a potential partner judges a man on, is his shoes. Although of course depending on your date location, most women admit to prefer a gentleman to wear classic shoes on a first date, so if in doubt an Oxford or Derby is your safest bet. For less formal occasions you can’t put a foot wrong in the ‘92 model, a dress shoe sneaker which is the perfect smart casual hybrid. 

And one last piece of advice gentlemen… as set out in Undandy Way #36, Tender is always better than Tinder…

 Here’s to good health, good principles and above all – good shoes.