#I now own a 1950s dress that’s in really good condition! I got it for a play I’m in but also I love it regardless

[dimsilver]

blessings so many blessings!

[plus-size-reader]

The Deal pt 2

King Alfred x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1950 words

Warnings:none

Summary: Reader agrees to meet with the King of Wessex, under the condition that if she doesn’t like him, Bjorn will take her back home to Kattegat? But what will King Ivar think of that?

———————————————————————————————————

The evening itself wasn’t meant to be a punishment, though as Lagertha finished lacing the back of this stupid dress, you felt as though you may die. 

Never in your life had you worn a garment so constricting and infuriating. 

It was torture. 

You were a warrior, a fighter that needed as much range of motion as possible and yet, here you were in a corset with a skirt down to the floor. It just wasn’t practical for the life that you led. 

However, you assumed that good christian woman rarely engaged in battle the way that you did, so they didn’t need to be able to actually move. 

For whatever reason. 

“This is all idiotic” you bellowed, huffing as she finished tying the strings. Lagertha laughed, taking in your words with as much grace as she could, though the idea of what you were going through made her physically ill. 

Never in her life could she imagine a daughter of Ragnar Lothbrok, married off to some puny king in england. It was insulting to his image. 

For a moment, she considered Gyda, her darling daughter who had been taken from her way before her time. 

She would have never allowed her to be married off to some christian, far away from her home and her family. 

Still, it wasn’t her call to make. Ubbe had made a deal in order to get what he wanted, and nothing was going to change that...not even as much begging as you’d been doing since you found out. 

“I agree, but you know your brother, he can be so stubborn” she teased, earning a laugh from you. It was likely one of the last times she would hear it, but she enjoyed it all the same. 

The two of you’d had an interesting relationship since the death of your mother. For a while, you shared in Ivar’s opinion of wanting to kill her to get revenge for your mother’s murder but the more time you spent together, the more you understood. 

If you were in the position Lagertha was, you would have done the same thing. 

You had come to terms with it, but this was something else entirely. 

You were talking about giving up your freedom, your identity, and your life. 

For the first time in a long time, you wanted Ivar to be here so that he could talk some sense into them, or fight for you. There was no way he would ever make a deal like this with the saxon’s. 

Especially not one that forced you to give up the gods. 

“Unfortunately, he’s a lot like Ragnar in that way” you agreed, thinking about your father as you looked in the mirror, admiring the features you shared with him, as well as the ones you got from your mother. 

You could see his face, shining in your eyes, and that was all you needed to give you the strength to get through this. 

If all went well tonight, you’d be on a ship with Bjorn, headed back to Kattegat with all this at your back. 

You just had to survive tonight. 

~ 

Your footsteps made funny sounds as you walked down the corridor toward the dining hall. The shoes you had on were far too tight on your feet and made your toes feel odd, not to mention the fact that you hardly knew how to walk in them. 

Your dress about got caught under your feet with each unsure step, and you had already tripped against Bjorn three times as he led you toward where the king was waiting. 

He had graciously agreed to escort you, so that you didn’t actually die on your way there. 

Heels just weren’t something your people ever had the misfortune of wearing and right now, you would kill for your boots. 

“Just breath, smile, and be nice” he whispered, opening the door for you. 

You turned to reply but found him stopped at the door...leaving you to walk the rest of the way on your own. 

The idea frightened you, but you weren’t going to let the saxon king know that. Instead, you picked your head up and walked forward with as much grace as you could muster, which wasn’t much at all. 

In fact, you made it about a foot before your dress got caught under your foot and you fell to the ground in a mess of limbs and fabric.

Everyone in the room was unsure of what to do for a moment as you tried to gather yourself. There wasn’t really protocal for something like this, and Alfred, for one was lost. 

It wasn’t until his mother urged him to help you that he stepped down from the throne and offered you a hand. 

“Are you okay, M’lady?” he asked, shocked further still when you ignored him, your attention focused on your feet. 

Without missing a beat, you plucked the offensive article from your foot and tossed it across the room, followed by the other one. The action left you barefoot, and allowed for you to stand on your own. 

“I’m not a lady, call me Y/N, or nothing” you ordered, standing without hesitance and taking the hand he offered you. You shook it once, then dropped it to his side. 

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that Bjorn was laughing behind you. 

Everyone was understandably shocked by your behavior, but said nothing. 

“Alright Y/N, thank you for joining me. Are you alright? That was quite the fall” He commented, trying to check on you, though you found insult in his word. 

You had lived through much worse than a little fall. This king really must have been even weaker than you thought. He was pathetic. 

“That was nothing, and I wouldn’t have done it, had it not been for those horrible things they put on my feet” You grumbled, taking in the faces of all the people around you. 

Their jaws were practically hanging open as they studied you. They thought you were closer to a wild animal than a human, you bet. You could see it on all their stupid, smug faces. 

They thought they were so much better than you and your people. How were you supposed to rule them if they wouldn’t even look at you without sneering. 

What kind of King would want a savage bride anyway? They must have thought he was out of his mind. 

“I do apologize for that, it’s tradition is all” he reasoned, as if that was supposed to somehow make it better. If you were following your traditions in courting a potential husband, there would have been a feast and a sacrifice…

Yet, there was no goat to be found? 

Why did you have to follow their silly traditions if they had no care for yours? It didn’t make any sense to you. 

“I understand, but I will not ever wear them again” you shrugged, as if it was as simple as breathing. Alfred knew one thing, you weren’t accustomed to being told what to do. 

Which was going to make this whole thing a lot more difficult for him. 

“And what if I could promise that you do not have to? Would you agree to have a meal with me then?” he asked, understanding that he was going to have to take a unique approach to this whole thing. 

Alfred already had enough trouble as it was talking to women, led alone women who didn’t understand half of what he was saying, and already didn’t like him. 

At least in Wessex he was the king, so there were certain elements of respect that had to be given to him at all times. But he wasn’t your king, and you didn’t revear him as such, so that respect wasn’t there. 

“I would agree, but only if there’s ale” you countered, a slight smile perking up around the corners of your mouth. 

It wasn’t much, but it was a start and Alfred could work with that. After all, this whole thing was just as new for him as it was for you and it would take some getting used to for both of you. 

~ 

You recognized a lot of the food at the table where you sat, and didn’t hesitate to fill a goblet full of wine as you waited for Alfred to talk to you about whatever it was he wanted to. 

That was the main difference between him and the viking. Viking men didn’t feel the need to fill the empty space ever time it presented itself. Instead, they allowed comfortable silence. 

Silence seemed to make the boy king anxious, as if it meant something bad was about to happen. He couldn’t just enjoy the peace that came with long radiating silence. 

He constantly insisted on talking. 

“So, how are you finding wessex so far?” he wondered, cutting a bit of veal on his plate, his attention focused there, though he occasionally looked up at you as he waited for you to answer. 

You weren’t a hundred percent sure how to answer his question, mostly because it was a stupid question. Wessex was nothing like what you were comfortable with, or where you were raised. 

The people were cold toward you and treated you like an outsider, and even still, you couldn’t leave. 

“I do not like it” you answered finally, just as blunt as the first time you spoke. 

It was amazing to him that you didn’t even hesitate when saying something like that. You acted as if it was always better to say what you were thinking, rather than what the socially acceptable answer was. 

In some ways, he envied that about you. 

“No? And why is that?” he wondered, his meal long forgotten as he focused more and more as the words that fell from your lips. 

Again, a stupid question on his part. 

“It is not my home. Just as if I was to take you across the sea to Kattegat. You would not like it because it is not your home” you reasoned, getting bored of talking about yourself. 

You found that men were most happy when they could talk about themselves and their accomplishment. If there was anything you wanted to get out of this conversation sooner, it would be for the king to be happy. 

Though...making him unhappy could result in him taking back his foolish deal with your brother, which would make you happy. 

If you could make him not want to marry you, the problem would solve itself. 

“Your people think you’re stupid, have you noticed that?” you asked, out of the blue. Your question shocked him, but all Alfred could do was nod. You had a point.

For quite some time, his people had seen him as nothing more than a boy, incapable of ruling over a body of people such as themselves. They thought he was a fool, an imbecile, and even you’d noticed. 

“Don’t feel bad, you’re only a boy...it isn’t their fault that you aren’t stronger, smarter or more intimidating” you continued, the insults springing from your tongue without issue. 

You weren’t worried about any sort of punishment or repercussion. As far as you were concerned, being forced to marry the man in front of you was the worst thing that could happen. 

“You’re right, All the things you’re saying about me are true” he started, momentarily shocking you before he continued. Of all the ways to react, this certainly was a choice. 

“That is why I need a strong, capable queen like yourself” he grinned...this was going to be a lot harder than you thought. 

[fizzingwizard]

I reread the Sherlock Holmes stories at least once a year. Every time, I’m impressed with something new. I’ve really got to start a Holmesian side blog.

For now, enjoy what is basically me live-tweeting “The Problem of Thor Bridge,” although I actually read it a few days ago. Holmes is in his late 40s.

The story in short: A woman has been killed, and the family’s governess is accused, because the woman’s jackass husband is totally into her.

It was a wild morning in October, and I observed as I was dressing how the last remaining leaves were being whirled from the solitary plane tree which graces the yard behind our house. I descended to breakfast prepared to find my companion in depressed spirits, for, like all great artists, he was easily impressed by his surroundings.

We start off with an image of the moody, artistic, disconsolate Holmes, and a depiction of Watson, the guy who knows everything about him.

On the contrary, I found that... his mood was particularly bright and joyous, with that somewhat sinister cheerfulness which was characteristic of his lighter moments.

"You have a case, Holmes?" I remarked.

"The faculty of deduction is certainly contagious, Watson," he answered.

Every. Little. Thing.

Also, please note, sinister cheerfulness.

Watson: Holmes, you’re... happy. Good Lord, who’s been murdered!?

"... We may discuss it when you have consumed the two hard-boiled eggs with which our new cook has favoured us. Their condition may not be unconnected with the copy of the Family Herald which I observed yesterday upon the hall-table. Even so trivial a matter as cooking an egg demands an attention which is conscious of the passage of time and incompatible with the love romance in that excellent periodical."

Ooh. Victorian burn!

"I am getting into your involved habit, Watson, of telling a story backward."

Holmes’s pastime - casually insulting Watson.

Watson’s probable reaction:

By the way, let’s keep track of Holmes burns, shall we? So far he’s roasted both Watson and the poor cook at Baker Street.

"... A revolver with one discharged chamber and a calibre which corresponded with the bullet was found on the floor of her wardrobe." His eyes fixed and he repeated in broken words, "On—the—floor—of—her—wardrobe." Then he sank into silence.

Sherlock Holmes abruptly cutting off, repeating himself in staccato, then getting lost in thought and forgetting he was talking to someone. Just a day in the life of Dr. Watson.

When this sort of thing happens for a prolonged time, Watson has a habit of... falling asleep. Lol. Not that I blame him

Enter Bates, who is a manager for today’s client, Gibson, a gold mining magnate. Bates does not like Gibson.

"Those public charities are a screen to cover his private iniquities."

A breakdown of big business if I ever saw one.

Holmes doesn’t like Gibson either.

"What the devil do you mean by this, Mr. Holmes? Do you dismiss my case?"

"Well, Mr. Gibson, at least I dismiss you."

Holmes Burn Count: 3.

I sprang to my feet, for the expression upon the millionaire's face was fiendish in its intensity, and he had raised his great knotted fist. 

Gasp! Someone makes a threatening gesture at Sherlock Holmes, something that surely happens with regularity!

Watson:

We learn Gibson has a crush on his governess, who is accused of killing his wife.

"I could not live under the same roof with such a woman and in daily contact with her without feeling a passionate regard for her. Do you blame me, Mr. Holmes?"

"I do not blame you for feeling it. I should blame you if you expressed it, since this young lady was in a sense under your protection."

Holy cheese whiz, Batman! Don’t hit on your employees! See! Even in a world without bills against sexual harassment in the workplace, this was understood!

"I've been a man that reached out his hand for what he wanted, and I never wanted anything more than the love and possession of that woman. I told her so."

"Oh, you did, did you?"

Holmes could look very formidable when he was moved.

Sherlock Holmes:

"I said that money was no object and that all I could do to make her happy and comfortable would be done."

"Very generous, I am sure," said Holmes with a sneer.

Holmes Burn Count: 4

On a side note, more Holmes actors should sneer.

"Some of you rich men have to be taught that all the world cannot be bribed into condoning your offences."

PREACH IT BROTHER.

"And women lead an inward life and may do things beyond the judgement of a man."

I love how this is just accepted in this time period. Gibson is speaking, and Holmes and Watson are gentlemen, but no one’s going to contradict this statement.

Man: does something completely against his character. Everyone else: How strange! There must be some reason. Meanwhile, Woman: does something completely against her character. Everyone: Well, she’s an illogical woman, what do you expect?

I mean dude. They talk this way in the original Star Trek, which had female character working in high-level positions (albeit not starship captain). And the “illogical woman” line appeared pretty much every time a plot involved a woman. It’s crazy how persistent a stereotype this was. At least “female hysteria” was still considered a Thing in Holmes’s time - by Star Trek’s time it had been dropped since the 1950s.

Anyway, I can’t understand a thing men do.

"[My wife] was crazy with hatred and the heat of the Amazon was always in her blood."

Whenever a character isn’t English, they are assigned some ethnic trait that usually makes them more passionate and unreasonable than English people. The English don’t escape critique, but foreigners definitely feel the burn the greatest. If an excuse can be found to blame something on a character being “tropical” or “fiery” because they’re from the Mediterranean or overseas, it will be used. And it’s usually a female character. (Though probably the one who gets it the worst is the poor Andaman Islander in The Sign of Four, who is a man, but barely even afforded humanity by the text.)

Holmes and Watson travel out to investigate. They meet the local police, who’s grateful to work with Holmes.

"And your friend, Dr. Watson, can be trusted, I know."

This is just how you react when Holmes shows up with Watson, since Holmes’s modus operandi is “Anything you say to me will eventually get back to Watson anyway.”

"Well now, Watson, suppose for a moment that we visualise you in the character of a woman who, in a cold, premeditated fashion, is about to get rid of a rival..."

So there’s an episode of House MD where House asks Wilson to envision himself as his patient, who is a middle-aged Chinese woman. Wilson is like “ok” and House says “Say it.” So Wilson says “I’m a middle-aged Chinese woman.” And House is like, “good.” And clearly it’s from “Thor Bridge” bwahahahaha.

"Your best friends would hardly call you a schemer, Watson, and yet I could not picture you doing anything so crude as that."

Watson Cannot Lie. It Is Known. At least, he cannot lie convincingly for more than a few minutes. Also, he is a Good Guy, Whom Holmes Trusts Implicitly.

(The Casebook has quite a few Watson-validating moments.)

"I can see now that I was wrong. Nothing could justify me in remaining where I was a cause of unhappiness, and yet it is certain that the unhappiness would have remained even if I had left the house."

^This is the governess, Ms Dunbar, teaching us all that a good deed never goes unpunished. I disagree with calling Ms Dunbar the “cause” of unhappiness, as the cause is clearly the husband. Ms Dunbar’s one bad decision was in not putting some form of distance between herself and Gibson. She seems to have thought they were safe as long as they were not being physically intimate, but other forms of intimacy were okay. And, to be frank, it seems not unlikely by the end that for all Gibson’s lack of morals, and in spite of her own, Ms Dunbar loves him back.

At the same time, she’s also right that no matter what choice she made, Gibson and his wife were not going to be happy together. It’s completely Gibson’s fault though. And the fault of a society where leaving a marriage left a black mark.

"How do you know [the murder weapon wasn’t already planted in your room]?"

"Because I tidied out the wardrobe."

"That is final."

Who is she, Marie Kondo?

Holmes did not answer. His pale, eager face had suddenly assumed that tense, far-away expression which I had learned to associate with the supreme manifestations of his genius. So evident was the crisis in his mind that none of us dared to speak, and we sat, barrister, prisoner, and myself, watching him in a concentrated and absorbed silence.

More of Silent, Pensive Holmes and his Rapt Audience. Watson won’t fall asleep when others are around, so instead they all stare at Holmes. Literally. That’s what it says. No one dares speak and they all just stare at him.

Suddenly, as we neared our destination he seated himself opposite to me—we had a first-class carriage to ourselves—

I like that Watson feels compelled to explain this to us this.

and laying a hand upon each of my knees he looked into my eyes with the peculiarly mischievous gaze which was characteristic of his more imp-like moods.

The body language in this passage. Holmes getting all silly and excited. Watson still just staring. This scene is probably the most Guy Ritchie-like it gets.

Also, please note imp-like.

Watson: Get your hands off my knees Sherlock Holmes you adorable fucker.

"Watson," said he, "I have some recollection that you go armed upon these excursions of ours."

It was as well for him that I did so, for he took little care for his own safety when his mind was once absorbed by a problem so that more than once my revolver had been a good friend in need. I reminded him of the fact.

"Yes, yes, I am a little absent-minded in such matters."

Holmes: Hey Watson, are you packing heat?

Watson: Well YEAH, you careless bastard. Someone’s got to prevent your death, since you won’t.

Holmes: YOLO

(Although, it’s more like YOLT, in this specific case.)

"See, Watson, your revolver has solved the problem!"

^After using Watson’s revolver in an experiment which results in the gun falling off the bridge into the depths of the river.

Watson: Thank you, Holmes. I liked that revolver.

Holmes: Psh, quit your bitching, we’ll drag the river for it.

In the end, it turns out the wife concocted a plan for her own suicide that would make it look like the governess murdered her. Although this story would definitely have been better without the racism and sexism, one thing that I can’t help but appreciate is that Gibson, a Generally Bad Guy, is not The Bad Guy, and gets to continue living his rich and ruthless life. On top of that, he’s even rid of his wife who wasn’t beautiful anymore, and potentially going to marry the beautiful younger woman. So he gets no consequences for treating his wife terribly, putting the moves on his employee, or just for being a jackass. Instead, he gets even More. It’s hyper realism. ACD ain’t pulling his punches with this one. /cynicism

And that’s it for “Thor Bridge!” This was very fun for me to do though I doubt anyone will read it! But I’ll almost definitely make more so I can continue to share the running inner monologue that goes on in my head whenever I read Holmes stories. I enjoy snickering to myself with or without an audience.

Our Holmes Burn Count was only 4, though I could have included a few more barbs he threw at Gibson.

This probably doesn’t need mentioning, but all the Sherlock Holmes stories are in public domain so y’all should go read them.

[boreothegoldfinch]

chapter 6 paragraph iv

I still saw him—just not as much. More and more he spent nights with Kotku and her mother at the Double R Apartments—a transient hotel really, a broken down motor court from the 1950s, on the highway between the airport and the Strip, where guys who looked like illegal immigrants stood around the courtyard by the empty swimming pool and argued over motorcycle parts. (“Double R?” said Hadley. “You know what that stands for, right? ‘Rats and Roaches.’ ”) Kotku, mercifully, didn’t accompany Boris to my house all that much, but even when she wasn’t around he talked about her constantly. Kotku had cool taste in music and had made him a mix CD with a bunch of smoking hot hip-hop that I really had to listen to. Kotku liked her pizza with green peppers and olives only. Kotku really really wanted an electronic keyboard— also a Siamese kitten, or maybe a ferret, but wasn’t allowed to have pets at the Double R. “Serious, you need to spend more time with her, Potter,” he said, bumping my shoulder with his. “You’ll like her.” “Oh come on,” I said, thinking of the smirky way she behaved around me —laughing at the wrong time, in a nasty way, always commanding me to go to the fridge to fetch her beers. “No! She likes you! She does! I mean, she thinks of you more as a little brother. That’s what she said.” “She never says a word to me.” “That’s because you don’t talk to her.” “Are you guys screwing?” Boris made an impatient noise, the sound he made when things didn’t go his way. “Dirty mind,” he said, tossing the hair out of his eyes, and then: “What? What do you think? Do you want me to make you a map?” “Draw you a map.” “Eh?” “That’s the phrase. ‘Do you want me to draw you a map.’ ” Boris rolled his eyes. Waving his hands around, he started in again about how intelligent Kotku was, how “crazy smart,” how wise she was and how much life she had lived and how unfair I was to judge her and look down on her without bothering to get to know her; but while I sat half listening to him talk, and half watching an old noir movie on television (Fallen Angel, Dana Andrews), I couldn’t help thinking about how he’d met Kotku in what was essentially Remedial Civics, the section for students who weren’t smart enough (even in our extremely non-demanding school) to pass without extra help. Boris—good at mathematics without trying and better in languages than anyone I’d ever met—had been forced into Civics for Dummies because he was a foreigner: a school requirement which he greatly resented. (“Because why? Am I likely to be someday voting for Congress?”) But Kotku— eighteen! born and raised in Clark County! American citizen, straight off of Cops!—had no such excuse. Over and over, I caught myself in mean-spirited thoughts like this, which I did my best to shake. What did I care? Yes, Kotku was a bitch; yes, she was too dumb to pass regular Civics and wore cheap hoop earrings from the drugstore that were always getting caught in things, and yes, even though she was only eighty-one pounds or whatever she still scared the hell out of me, like she might kick me to death with her pointy-toed boots if she got mad enough. (“She a little fighta nigga,” Boris himself had said boastfully at one point as he hopped around throwing out gang signs, or what he thought were gang signs, and regaling me with a story of how Kotku had pulled out a bloody chunk of some girl’s hair—this was another thing about Kotku, she was always getting in scary girl fights, mostly with other white trash girls like herself but occasionally with the real gangsta girls, who were Latina and black.) But who cared what crappy girl Boris liked? Weren’t we still friends? Best friends? Brothers practically?

Then again: there was not exactly a word for Boris and me. Until Kotku came along, I had never thought too much about it. It was just about drowsy air-conditioned afternoons, lazy and drunk, blinds closed against the glare, empty sugar packets and dried-up orange peels strewn on the carpet, “Dear Prudence” from the White Album (which Boris adored) or else the same mournful old Radiohead over and over: For a minute I lost myself, I lost myself… The glue we sniffed came on with a dark, mechanical roar, like the windy rush of propellers: engines on! We fell back on the bed into darkness, like sky divers tumbling backwards out of a plane, although—that high, that far gone —you had to be careful with the bag over your face or else you were picking dried blobs of glue out of your hair and off the end of your nose when you came to. Exhausted sleep, spine to spine, in dirty sheets that smelled of cigarette ash and dog, Popchik belly-up and snoring, subliminal whispers in the air blowing from the wall vents if you listened hard enough. Whole months passed where the wind never stopped, blown sand rattling against the windows, the surface of the swimming pool wrinkled and sinister-looking. Strong tea in the mornings, stolen chocolate. Boris yanking my hair by the handful and kicking me in the ribs. Wake up, Potter. Rise and shine. I told myself I didn’t miss him, but I did. I got stoned alone, watched Adult Access and the Playboy channel, read Grapes of Wrath and The House of the Seven Gables which seemed as if they had to be tied for the most boring book ever written, and for what felt like thousands of hours—time enough to learn Danish or play the guitar if I’d been trying—fooled around in the street with a fucked-up skateboard Boris and I had found in one of the foreclosed houses down the block. I went to swim-team parties with Hadley —no-drinking parties, with parents present—and, on the weekends, attended parents-away parties of kids I barely knew, Xanax bars and Jägermeister shots, riding home on the hissing CAT bus at two a.m. so fucked up that I had to hold the seat in front of me to keep from falling out in the aisle. After school, if I was bored, it was easy enough to go hang out with one of the big lackadaisical stoner crowds who floated around between Del Taco and the kiddie arcades on the Strip. But still I was lonely. It was Boris I missed, the whole impulsive mess of him: gloomy, reckless, hot-tempered, appallingly thoughtless. Boris pale and pasty, with his shoplifted apples and his Russian-language novels, gnaweddown fingernails and shoelaces dragging in the dust. Boris—budding alcoholic, fluent curser in four languages—who snatched food from my plate when he felt like it and nodded off drunk on the floor, face red like he’d been slapped. Even when he took things without asking, as he all too frequently did —little things were always disappearing, DVDs and school supplies from my locker, more than once I’d caught him going through my pockets for money —his own possessions meant so little to him that somehow it wasn’t stealing; whenever he came into cash himself, he split it with me down the middle and anything that belonged to him, he gave me gladly if I asked for it (and sometimes when I didn’t, as when Mr. Pavlikovsky’s gold lighter, which I’d admired in passing, turned up in the outside pocket of my backpack). The funny thing: I’d worried, if anything, that Boris was the one who was a little too affectionate, if affectionate is the right word. The first time he’d turned in bed and draped an arm over my waist, I lay there half-asleep for a moment, not knowing what to do: staring at my old socks on the floor, empty beer bottles, my paperbacked copy of The Red Badge of Courage. At last— embarrassed—I faked a yawn and tried to roll away, but instead he sighed and pulled me closer, with a sleepy, snuggling motion. Ssh, Potter, he whispered, into the back of my neck. Is only me.

It was weird. Was it weird? It was; and it wasn’t. I’d fallen back to sleep shortly after, lulled by his bitter, beery unwashed smell and his breath easy in my ear. I was aware I couldn’t explain it without making it sound like more than it was. On nights when I woke strangled with fear there he was, catching me when I started up terrified from the bed, pulling me back down in the covers beside him, muttering in nonsense Polish, his voice throaty and strange with sleep. We’d drowse off in each other’s arms, listening to music from my iPod (Thelonious Monk, the Velvet Underground, music my mother had liked) and sometimes wake clutching each other like castaways or much younger children. And yet (this was the murky part, this was what bothered me) there had also been other, way more confusing and fucked-up nights, grappling around half-dressed, weak light sliding in from the bathroom and everything haloed and unstable without my glasses: hands on each other, rough and fast, kickedover beers foaming on the carpet—fun and not that big of a deal when it was actually happening, more than worth it for the sharp gasp when my eyes rolled back and I forgot about everything; but when we woke the next morning stomach-down and groaning on opposite sides of the bed it receded into an incoherence of backlit flickers, choppy and poorly lit like some experimental film, the unfamiliar twist of Boris’s features fading from memory already and none of it with any more bearing on our actual lives than a dream. We never spoke of it; it wasn’t quite real; getting ready for school we threw shoes, splashed water at each other, chewed aspirin for our hangovers, laughed and joked around all the way to the bus stop. I knew people would think the wrong thing if they knew, I didn’t want anyone to find out and I knew Boris didn’t either, but all the same he seemed so completely untroubled by it that I was fairly sure it was just a laugh, nothing to take too seriously or get worked up about. And yet, more than once, I had wondered if I should step up my nerve and say something: draw some kind of line, make things clear, just to make absolutely sure he didn’t have the wrong idea. But the moment had never come. Now there was no point in speaking up and being awkward about the whole thing, though I scarcely took comfort in the fact. I hated how much I missed him. There was a lot of drinking going on at my house, on Xandra’s end anyway, a lot of slammed doors (“Well, if it wasn’t me, it had to be you,” I heard her yelling); and without Boris there (they were both more constrained with Boris in the house) it was harder. Part of the problem was that Xandra’s hours at the bar had changed—schedules at her work had been moved; she was under a lot of stress, people she’d worked with were gone, or on different shifts; on Wednesdays and Mondays when I got up for school, I often found her just in from work, sitting alone in front of her favorite morning show too wired to sleep and swigging Pepto-Bismol straight from the bottle.

[heckofabecca]

tagged by @korrathevampireslayer3791​!

1. What’s your subway (or other sandwich shop) order?

Hm, usually a tuna sandwich! With mayo (mayoooo) and lettuce and some onions. If I’m at a kosher place (rare!), I get turkey breast with mayo and spinach.

2. What’s your shoe size?

9 medium.

3. Favorite Show?

Oof... Of all time, probably Avater: The Last Airbender. Other faves include The Good Place (which I need to catch up on), Brooklyn 99 (ditto...), and 

4. What’s your ideal style, if you could afford it?

Vintage, 1930s-1950s. But not just “if I could afford it” but “if I wasn’t so sensitive about the cold.” You can pry my retro 1970s down coat from my dead hands.

5. Starbucks or Hole-In-The-Wall Coffee Shop?

I don’t like coffee so... That said, hole-in-the-wall is generally better! Anywhere that does hot chocolate, especially with almond milk.

6. What color(s) would you dye your hair?

Ugh, I wouldn’t. My hair is going gray at such a rate as to make dying it look really dumb really fast.

7. Who’s your favorite celebrity?

Man I dunno... Mark Hamill?

8. Favorite Ice Cream?

Chocolate ice cream with warm peanut butter sauce :3333

9. Have you ever met someone in secret?

Uhhhh maybe?? I dunno! I can’t think of any examples right now, but I’m sure I’ve done something like this in the course of my life...

10. When is your birthday?

August 28

11. Introvert or Extrovert?

A fair mix... I need company and quiet both! But I get overwhelmed in large groups easily, from crowds at concerts to a dinner table where I’m seated in the middle and there’s five conversations going on and I can hear ALL of them

12. Any siblings? How many?

One brother. Three sisters-in-law, one brother-in-law.

13. If you could have powers, what would they be?

Uhhh. Hm. Teleportation is a nice option, what with driving being The Devil’s Work and all. 

14. Dream job?

Hmmm. Project managing for immersive theater productions. :P

15. What’s your favorite song right now?

 ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

16. What song are you listening to right now?

Right now it’s quiet.

17. What’s on your mind right now?

Celebrities XD

18. If you came into a massive amount of money, what would you do with it?

Buy my mom an apartment in the retirement home she would enjoy but can’t afford. Invest (in stocks, bonds, and property as makes sense). Donate to my nonprofit. Donate to other good causes.

On the extra selfish side, I’d spruce up my wardrobe (and my husband’s), get Lasix for us both, buy myself a moped (and learn how to use it), and treat myself to fancy dinners WAY more often.

19. What is your definition of success?

Financial security, personal happiness, and contributing to others’ lives in a positive way.

20. Where do you find the most peace?

Asleep with a cat on me. (This never happens anymore, but w/e, it’s still true!!!!)

21. What age do you wish you could permanently be?  

Yuck, no thanks! I don’t love the fact that I’m only getting older, but I’d hate to be immortal and young... Everyone else you love grows beyond you?? And dies?? No thanks.

22. If you could be any mythical creature, what would you be? (Describe it and where you got the idea, or even if it’s made up).

A vampire, just so people stop bothering me about sun exposure XD XD XD 

(That really wouldn’t work though since blood is a) gross and b) unkosher... And as cool as golems are, I would NOT want someone else to have the ability to destroy me with an eraser!)

23. How many pets do you have? What are their names?

None T.T

24. Coffee or Tea?

If I had to choose between these two, I’d choose tea. But as far as all hot beverages go, hot chocolate for SURE.

25. Favorite Nickelodeon, Disney, or Cartoon Network Show?

Avatar: the Last Airbender! And Steven Universe!

26. What is your dream house? Can you describe it?

Well heated in winter and well air conditioned in summer. Solar panels.

Fully finished basement

Eat-in kitchen with marble countertops, lots of storage, and a reliable dishwasher. Light over the sink, via windows or extra lighting—preferably both.

Dining room that seats at least 8, with a china cabinet.

A nice living room AND a cozier den for games, painting, etc etc

Enough bedrooms for a guest room.

Good-sized closets in EVERY bedroom and bathroom, and a coat closet by the front door, and a front hall that’s easy to clean!

Attached garage.

And obviously nice-looking! And hardwood floors outside of the kitchen and bathrooms.

27. Future pets you hope to have? What are their names, if so?

Ugh I want a cat so badly, but between the allergies of my family-in-law and my husband’s total apathy towards pets, I’m unlikely to get one unless I outlive them all, which is VERY unlikely.

Names would come with the pet, yeah.

28. Favorite Book(s)?

Vorkosigan Saga, Jane Austen, The Hobbit, etc etc etc

29. If you owned a store, what would you sell?

When I was a kid, I essentially wanted to invent eShakti—dresses in the same fabrics but with different cuts to flatter different body types. Nowadays... I dunno! Maybe an afternoon tearoom that turns into a boozy bakery in the evenings?

30. If you could go back in time without alternating history, where would you go?

Ummm, if I could bring money and bring stuff back, I’d want to go collect a bunch of awesome vintage and antique clothes that fit me perfectly :P One or more from all of my favorite fashion eras! Regency England, robe à l’anglaise, 1930s, 1940s, 1950s, and maybe some medieval options for fun :P

32. Favorite YouTuber(s)?

SortedFood (british lad recipe channel), Superfruit and Pentatonix, and JustWrite.

Tagging @theodwyns @nadyakrupskaya @crocordile @joannalannister @eomer @kareenvorbarra @oenothera5 and anyone else interested!

[just-come-baek]

Fool Me Once

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader (Kim Sunhee)

Themes: romance | smut | war | 1950 | gangs

Word count: 12,5k

Summary: Baekhyun is a Captain who likes the best in the world innocent women and shady dealings. Those two never go hand in hand, yet both seem to gradually ruin him.

Masterlist

21st May 1950

Byun Baekhyun had always loved corrupting innocent-looking woman. There was nothing sweeter in the world, than seeing a shy and well-bred woman moan his name at the top of her voice, begging him to spank her.

With his status and appearance, it was quite easy. Whenever he entered a tavern or a bar, everyone, regardless gender, looked at him. He was desired, and he took it to his advantage.

This day was no different.

As usual, when the clock struck late hour, he was seated in a leather booth with his two fellow friends—Jongdae and Minseok, playing with glasses of whisky in their hands.

“Has anyone caught your attention yet?” Jongdae asked casually before putting his alcohol on the oak table, and smashing his lips against hooker’s lips that condescendingly was sitting on his laps, grinding his crotch.

“I’m pretty sure all fairest maidens already sleep tight in their beds. Why would someone so pure and innocent show up here at such late hour?” Minseok chimed in, looking around the space, as there was no one who would actually fit Baekhyun’s preference.

The girl must’ve had long dark hair, so he could wrap the ponytail around his palm, and pull her whenever she would disobey him. The girl must’ve been shorter than him, so Baekhyun wouldn’t have any threat to his height insecurity. The girl had to have the warmest smile, so the inferior ones would envy her.

“The night is young.” Baekhyun replied casually, smirking. “I’m certain that at least one girl is going to show up. I just have to be patient and positive.” He added, and with a gleam in his eyes and a smirk upon his face looked around the tavern in hope of spotting a perfect catch.

“I prefer hookers.” Minseok spoke matter-of-factly, as he laid his orbs on the woman beside him, undressing her with his sinful and hungry gaze. “They’re much more skilled.” He commented a second before he shoved his tongue down the courtesan’s throat.

“And naughtier,” added Jongdae, slipping his hand under the woman’s undergarments.

“Maybe, you’re right, but you’re missing the most important point,” Baekhyun sighed, trying to explain what his friends were missing out on. “Prostitutes lay with you for money, while those innocent girls completely devote themselves to you. They fully trust you and allow you to do literally everything to them. There’s the special attachment which is absent with a courtesan.”

“For me, sex is sex. It’s good when I get my release, and not even once a hooker has failed me.” Jongdae replied, groping the firm bottom of his whore.

“You two are too simple-minded,” Baekhyun announced, as Minseok agreed with Jongdae’s statement. “With an innocent girl, you get complete control over her, while with a prostitute, you think you’re in charge but it’s just an illusion. Moreover, it’s never a challenge when you fuck with a whore.”

“We just don’t care. We don’t want to play mind games, we just want to fuck.” Minseok added, as he forced the woman off his lap, and gave her a firm spank. “And right now, it’s exactly what I’m craving.” He spoke, licking his lips seductively. “Let’s go upstairs. I am all hard for your tight cunt.” Smirking, Minseok stood up, and rushed his courtesan to the room.

“That’s a perfect idea,” Jongdae agreed, sending a suggestive smirk to his woman. “Let’s leave our Mr I-only-sleep-with-virgins here. Maybe, he’ll get lucky later.”

“There was no occurrence when I got unlucky.” Baekhyun replied with confidence, being completely positive he was going to find himself some company for tonight’s escapade. “You may settle for whores, but I prefer waiting for real catch.” He added, taking a sip of his whisky. “Peasants,” Baekhyun snorted under his breath, as Jongdae and Minseok left the booth to fuck their hookers.

***

It didn’t even take five minutes.

Baekhyun drank up his alcohol, and looked around the tavern for a waitress who would refill his glass with the original Scottish whisky.

“Good evening, sir. Is there anything I can get you?” A woman in a skimpy dress said, as soon as she approached him, and sent him a wide smile.

Surprisingly, she seemed to be a good girl, regardless of her sultry outfit. She was radiating with innocence and kindness, even if she had exposed cleavage. It appeared to give her some hard time, as every time it slipped down a little, she tried to pull it up and cover as much skin as possible.

Moreover, she perfectly fitted his type.

Her hair, her height, her body, her everything—Baekhyun knew he just hit jackpot.

“Yes, actually you can.” Baekhyun replied after a while, observing her body from head to toe, trying to spot any flaw. Unfortunately, or fortunately, he found none. No matter from what perspective he looked at her, she was perfect.

“Okay, may I know what I can get you?” She asked, as her client seemed distant.

“Let’s start with your name.” Baekhyun spoke nonchalantly, as he leaned backward, pressing his back against the backrest. “We’ll figure out the rest later.”

“I believe I have lots of clients to serve. Would you be kind enough to tell me what you wish to drink?” She said as politely as it was possible. Regardless Baekhyun’s social status, she wanted to bring him his order, and then serve other customers. That’s what she was being paid for; she couldn’t so simply neglect her duties.

Despite her comment, Baekhyun didn’t budge.

“It’s Kim Sunhee.” She answered, hoping it would speed him up. Unless she desired being scolded by the owner, Sunhee got to serve him swiftly and with professionalism. “Can I get your order now?”

“Kim Sunhee.” Baekhyun repeated her name, making it sound definitely better, as syllables seemed to be dancing off his tongue. “A very pretty name for a very pretty woman,” he complimented, sending her one of his signature smirks—whenever he used this on girls, it never meant anything good. “How old are you, Sunhee?”

“Twenty.” She simply replied, knowing that doing everything his way, would be undoubtedly the fastest way to write down his order and focus on other customers.

“It’s a wonderful age.” Baekhyun spoke as a matter of fact, and smiled at her, noticing her shyness. “And what made you work here? You don’t seem to fit in here.”

Sunhee had enough of this interview, yet she couldn’t tell him that. Her boss would be furious if she treated Captain Byun Baekhyun rudely. The handsome man in the uniform was ready to leave a fortune in the bar, and scaring him out of the tavern would bring her tremendous consequences, ergo, there was no other option for her but to suck it up and diligently answer all his questions.

“I work here to help my family. I have to provide for their well-being.” Sunhee confessed sincerely. Whenever a member of her family was in trouble, she would do anything to help.

“I see…,” Baekhyun sighed, “I would like another glass of whisky, and possibly a word with your superior.” He added, as he placed an empty glass on the table, and looked her in the eyes, wondering how they looked up close.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Sunhee nodded her head, and walked away, being perfectly aware of Baekhyun’s intense gaze on her bottom.

Baekhyun smirked, knowing she won’t be walking so easily once he has some quality time with her. Oh, definitely not.

***

“Sunhee, can I have a word with you?” Her boss, Shindong, asked her once he ended a little chat with Captain Byun.

“What’s the matter, boss?” Sunhee looked at her superior, thinking what he wanted to discuss with her.

“I talked with Captain Byun, and he said he would like to get to know you better. I understand you’re a new waitress here, but you must meet up with him. He’s waiting for you in the room upstairs.” Shindong explained, hoping she wouldn’t disobey.

“I am a waitress, not a prostitute.” Sunhee talked back, as she didn’t like the idea of sleeping with the man, regardless of his social status.

“I am aware, but we can’t afford losing such an important client. He’s a regular guest in my tavern, and he specifically requested for your assistance.”

“I can’t, I am here to serve guests, not to lay with them.” Sunhee corrected her boss, reminding him under what conditions she had been hired in the tavern. “You must send someone who is actually capable of satisfying his needs. I am afraid I can’t do that.”

“Listen,” Shindong grabbed her by her arm, and pulled her closer to him, forcing her to focus her gaze on him. “He doesn’t want anyone else. Captain Byun solicited for you, and I don’t care if he fucks your cunt, or asks you to suck him off, you’re going to do it regardless. I did you a huge favor hiring you here, and if you want to keep your job, you get to fulfill his every wish.”

Sunhee was almost in tears.

This wasn’t fair, but on the other hand, nothing could be done to change her situation. Shindong had made it very clear; she could either please Captain Byun, or fail her family. Sunhee detested both choices; they were equally wrong, but she would never bail out on her own clan. Right now, letting Captain Byun fuck her was the lesser of two evils.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” Sunhee replied, sighing loudly. She wasn’t really fond of this idea, but she had to keep her waitress position, even if she had to put her pride aside and let Captain Byun do whatever he wants to do to her.

“Good girl,” Shindong whispered, as he tilted her chin. “You better not disappoint him. As I previously said, we can’t afford to lose him.”

***

Sunhee was standing in front of the doors. Captain Byun Baekhyun was waiting behind them, yet she couldn’t bring enough courage to walk inside. When she would enter the room, there would be no coming back. She still had the chance to back away.

Biting her bottom lip, she placed her hand on the knob, and twisted it hesitantly, pushing the doors open. As expected, she saw Captain Byun sitting on the bed and sipping his alcohol.

“It took you long enough.” He commented casually, setting his drink on the nightstand. “I knew you would come, though.” Captain Byun added, as he stood up and took a few steps towards her.

Unlike the male, Sunhee didn’t share such enthusiasm. She just stood there, being frightened to walk through the door.

“Don’t be afraid, I didn’t call for you to hurt you.” He announced the moment he approached her. “It’s going to be pleasurable for you as much as it’s going to be for me.”

Sunhee still wasn’t convinced.

“Come on in.” Baekhyun mentioned, but when the girl didn’t move an inch, he wrapped his hand around her wrist and yanked her inside of the room. Gentleness was absent, as Baekhyun was everything but mild. Rather firmly, he pushed Sunhee against the wall, as he kicked the doors close. “You’re going to love this.”

“Please, don’t do this. I can’t. I beg you, call for someone else.” Sunhee shamelessly pleaded, squeezing her eyes shut, being afraid to look at this face, forcing her tears back. She couldn’t embarrass herself in front of Captain Byun; she couldn’t sob right in front of him.

“I don’t want anyone else.” Baekhyun simply stated, as he took a step back, knowing it wouldn’t bring him any pleasure if he fucked her without her consent. Everything seemed he had to try harder if he wanted her to give herself to him. That was exactly a kind of challenge he had been anticipating for a very long time. “And please, call me Baekhyun.”

Sunhee was still in her place, while Baekhyun slowly strolled across the room. She was incredibly tensed; therefore Baekhyun sighed, wondering what he could do to ease her stiffness.

“Do you like music?” He asked suddenly, as he looked her in the eyes.

Baekhyun smirked as he noticed her slight nod.

“Should I ask for someone else? I am certain she’s going to give you much more pleasure than I do.” Sunhee carried on, trying her best to convince him to let her go.

“Nonsense,” he quickly replied, as he set a smooth music from the gramophone. “No one can satisfy my needs as you can, Sunhee.” He admitted, smirking at her. “Come closer, Sunhee.” Baekhyun spoke, but when the girl didn’t move an inch, he waltzed toward her, moving his hips in the rhythm.

“I am not experienced.” She said matter-of-factly, hoping it would discourage and disinterest him. “Please, let me get you someone better, Captain Byun.”

“It’s Baekhyun for you,” he corrected her a moment before he reached for her hands, gently holding them with his own. “Don’t fear; I won’t hurt you.” He whispered, leading her toward the bed.

“I don’t want to disappoint you.” Sunhee confessed being certain he wouldn’t like to sleep with her. She knew she wouldn’t be able to satisfy his needs in a way he desired. Sunhee had no idea how to please a man; so far she perfected only the art of serving guests.

“You would never.” Baekhyun admitted without any doubt, being sure she would be great if he showed her how to pull strings. He would teach anyone, and in his eyes, Sunhee seemed to be a fast-learner. “Will you let me taste your delicious lips?” Baekhyun asked, and Sunhee didn’t dare to stop him.

When Baekhyun didn’t hear any opposition, he smirked and his eyes gleamed with desire. Urgently, he leaned in, and pressed his lips against her, moving slowly across them. The kiss was gentle, as he wanted her to feel safe.

He meant no harm, and she had to know it.

Sunhee’s eyes were closed, as she tried her best to respond to him. With much hesitancy, she kissed him back. Physically, it didn’t seem bad, but knowing under what conditions he was stealing her kisses was more than simply wrong. He didn’t stroke her lips because he cared about her, he plainly wanted to fuck and she seemed to fit his preference.

She didn’t care about him either, but if she wanted to keep her job as a waitress, she had to fulfill Baekhyun’s every need.

It was wrong, but no argument was good enough to stop.

When Sunhee seemed to relax a bit more, Baekhyun put his hand in her hair, and held her close, deepening the kiss. Passionately, he slipped his tongue. It took Sunhee by a surprise, but she didn’t dare to draw back. Shindong had made everything pretty clear; either she allows Baekhyun to do anything to her, or she becomes jobless.

Gently, Baekhyun massaged her tongue with his, slowly exploring her indeed delicious mouth.

“It wasn’t bad, was it?” Baekhyun asked as he broke the kiss. His hand was still in her hair, making her look only at him. Innocent women were devoted, and right now, Sunhee needed some guidance. She got to see only him, as he was the only person who mattered. Only Baekhyun was going to fuck her, to make her moan, to help her reach her finest orgasm, and without devoting connection it was going to be much more difficult. “It didn’t hurt either.”

“I liked it,” Sunhee confessed, complying with Baekhyun. She would do anything to keep her job, even if it meant she had to make love with Captain Byun.

It could always be worse. Although Baekhyun seemed quite impatient to rip her clothes off and fuck her, he didn’t intend to rape her. He would slowly corrupt her into giving herself to him.

It was definitely more fun.

“Why don’t you lie on your back?” He proposed, gently pushing her onto the bed. Once again, Sunhee followed his orders, and leaned backward, landing on her back. “You enjoy it more than you can admit.” Baekhyun spoke as a matter of fact, as he angled forward, hovering above her.

Lying beside her, Baekhyun slid his hand under her thin blouse, and groped her breast, making her hiss in sudden pleasure. His palm was cold, but it didn’t cause any discomfort for the girl. “Have you ever done this before?” Baekhyun asked, while kneading her bosom.

“I have once. It was horrible.” Sunhee confessed sincerely, as she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him. Even if it was her secret, Baekhyun didn’t care enough to spread it.

“It’s not going to hurt this time,” he whispered, his words tickling her neck. “I promise,” he added, as he swung his leg over her frame, trapping her between the bed and his body. “Do you trust me?”

“No,” Sunhee replied without any hesitation. She did not trust him. Why would she? Did he do anything to make her perceive him as trustful?—definitely not! “I know you won’t abuse me, though.”

Baekhyun didn’t answer, although he really wanted to. Sunhee was innocent, but she surely knew how to talk back to him. It was more than plainly intriguing. She was hesitant, and didn’t relent. Despite his attempts to seduce her and convince her that she was going to be alright with him, Sunhee didn’t seem to be persuaded.

And even if Baekhyun didn’t dare admit that, it was admirable. Sunhee was strong and not easily fooled, and they were quite valuable traits. She even might be a great soldier.

“Just relax, and let me change your mind.” Baekhyun uttered, staring down at her. With his knee between her things, he leaned in, and captured her lips in another passionate kiss which started off rather slowly, gradually becoming needy.

Captain Byun was fascinated by the girl. There was something strange about her, but he didn’t mind. He actually found it amusing. He had never slept with a girl who, in his opinion, thought one thing and done another. It was something new, and God, he adored it.

Slowly, Baekhyun trailed his wet kisses down her chin to her neck, sucking on the soft skin. Normally, he would be against the idea of marking his courtesan, but Sunhee was special. It would keep bugging him unless he nibbled her neck, leaving a visible mark. Even if he had her only for tonight; she ought to understand to whom she belonged to until the dawn.

Sunhee gasped when Baekhyun’s hand slipped under the waistband of her long skirt and undergarment. She did not expect him to proceed so quickly.

“Relax Sunhee.” He breathed out, gently stroking her folds. “You like it, don’t you?” Baekhyun rasped, as he could feel Sunhee raise her hip to rub her clit against his hand. “Don’t worry, it’s just a beginning.”

Although Sunhee didn’t word her plea, Baekhyun knew exactly what the woman beneath him wanted.

Sunhee moaned when Baekhyun rubbed her clit, and the man could swear that such a simple sound coming out of a woman had never made him this proud. He barely touched her, yet she was already wet, yearning for more. Even if she didn’t admit it, her body language was betraying her big time.

“Not so dubious right now, I see.” Baekhyun teased, as he thrust his forefinger inside of her. She was so ready for him; he almost didn’t feel any friction when his digit entered her.

“Mm…” Sunhee purred, reacting to his rather swift movements. Baekhyun was pumping his finger in and out, and she found it more pleasuring than she thought. “Captain Byun—“Sunhee started, but her words were quickly eaten off her tongue as Baekhyun smashed his lips, shamelessly stealing another impassioned kiss.

“Call me Baekhyun unless you want to anger me.” He warned her, and kissed her once again. Her lips indeed tasted delicious, and when mixed with the whisky which lingered in his mouth, Baekhyun had really hard time focusing on his surroundings.

“It feels so good, Baekhyun.” She moaned, as she looked him in the eyes. Baekhyun smirked, knowing he was almost halfway through with corrupting the innocent creature that was already squirming in pleasure underneath him.

“I’m already hard for you, Sunhee.” Baekhyun confessed, as Sunhee looked down at his member poking against her thigh. “I want to fuck you, right now.” He added, as he jumped off the bed, and stood in front of her, trying to get out of his uniform as fast as it was possible. “I’ll join you in a second. In the meantime, why don’t you touch yourself just like I touched you a while ago?” He grunted, smirking when Sunhee’s hand traveled down to her folds, gently stroking her womanhood.

It had been a very long time since Baekhyun was this satisfied. Sunhee was a hard nut to crack, yet she obeyed and fingered herself right in front of him. Minseok and Jongdae should’ve really got enlightened what they were missing out on. Even if they could tell hooker what to do, it was Baekhyun who wield complete control over the situation.

As fast as he could, he stripped himself, and when he was completely naked, he leaned in to push down Sunhee’s skirt and undergarments.

“Take off your blouse; I want to see you undress.” He demanded, staring down at her with pure lust. The further they went, Baekhyun was more certain, she would comply with his order. And right now, she didn’t even nag, and just pulled her blouse over her head, letting her long hair cover her shoulders.

Baekhyun won.

“Good girl,” he commented before hovering above her with his wrists pinned against the mattress beside both sides of her head. “Are you ready, Sunhee?” He asked, as he grabbed his member, and gave it a few strokes.

“Fuck me, Baekhyun.” Sunhee moaned almost breathlessly, as Baekhyun rubbed the tip of his cock against her womanhood.

Her words rang in his head, as he couldn’t expect her to ever become so desperate and vulgar. She was a good innocent girl; such obscene words didn’t sound as if they just escaped her thin pink lips. On the other hand, Baekhyun once again felt victorious. Sunhee’s behavior after his little influence had greatly exceeded his expectations.

“Naughty,” Baekhyun smirked before he forced himself inside of her tight cunt. “Ah…, Baekhyun grunted as he slammed his cock in and out mercilessly, focusing only on Sunhee’s loud moans. He kept going, knowing how much blissful it was for her. “Don’t bite it back, moan my name as loud as you can,” Baekhyun encouraged her before he leaned in, and sucked on her skin.

“Baekhyun,” Sunhee hollered at the top of her voice, as Baekhyun was driving her crazy with his fast thrusts and wet kisses.

“Louder, they don’t hear you downstairs,” he tempted as he grabbed her long hair in his palm, and pulled it, forcing her to look at him. “I want everyone to know my name in this hellhole.”

“Ah! I can’t any longer. I am going to come,” Sunhee breathed, knowing her peak was approaching. Her walls tightened, engulfing his cock which not even the tiniest bit slowed down. Baekhyun was way too turned on by Sunhee to even think about fucking her slow. When a good girl was being fucked rough, she would lose that label forever, and in case of Sunhee, Baekhyun was sure she wasn’t going to ever be the same.

He shamelessly corrupted her.

Sunhee didn’t seem to mind, though.

Well…, no girl had even complained.

It was just the way sex with Baekhyun was.

Changing and unforgettable.

“Come for me, Sunhee.” Baekhyun whispered, as he continued to fuck her, advancing toward his orgasm, too. “Explode,” he ordered, pounding his hips against her core. The sound of skin slapping against each other was definitely louder, than the smooth music in the background, yet neither of them seemed to care at the moment.

“Baekhyun,” Sunhee screamed and dug her fingernails in Baekhyun’s shoulders, as she came. She felt as if small explosions erupted in every fiber of her body at once. It was overwhelming, yet Baekhyun didn’t stop thrusting, as he desperately chased his orgasm.

“Fuck!” Baekhyun hollered when he reached his high. Arching his back, he released himself inside of her. The orgasm was so strong; he couldn’t remember when he had so much fun fucking a woman. It was, without any doubt, one of his best fucks. “God, Sunhee, you’re so good. How could you think you’re not good enough?” He confessed, as he powerlessly fell on her, panting.

Sunhee didn’t answer him. She was too embarrassed to talk to him. How could she reply? He requested for sex, and with a snap of his fingers, Sunhee changed from a waitress to a courtesan. It hurt her pride, and even the greatest orgasm in her life didn’t make up for it.

“I didn’t know you could be both,” Baekhyun started as he pulled out, and rolled beside her. The slow music was playing in the background, as Baekhyun tried to catch his breath.

Sunhee had no idea what he meant by that, and she didn’t even want to question him.

After all, it didn’t matter.

They had sex just as Baekhyun wanted. She fulfilled her part of the bargain, and it was time to say goodbye. She wasn’t really keen on clinging onto him, and Baekhyun, of course, must’ve wanted her out of his room as soon as it was possible, too.

Normally, Baekhyun thoughts would precisely fitted into Sunhee’s expectations, but right now, he wondered how she could be so good and so naughty at the same time. It was strange but incredible at once. Either she was very devoted to him by his smooth advances, or Sunhee was never good to begin with.

Baekhyun would love to have a smoke and elaborate on the topic, but as soon as he reached for a pack of cigarettes without filter, someone knocked on the doors and barged in, not bothering to wait for his consent.

It was Jongdae.

“Captain Byun, we have a problem.” He announced, trying to buckle his belt in haste. “We just received a telegram from Lay. You must see this.” Jongdae explained quickly, looking very worried.

“Pardon me, Sunhee.” Baekhyun spoke, looking down at the girl, as he stood up, and reached for his pants. “Duty calls.”

***

21st May 1950

“Is it really that urgent?” Baekhyun asked, being quite annoyed by the fact that he was dragged out of the bed before he managed to give Sunhee a second round of mind-blowing sex. Normally, he would’ve helped his lover to reach her peak at least thrice, and right now, Captain Byun felt rather indebted to Sunhee. “I am certain this can wait an hour or two,” he added casually, while remembering Sunhee’s moans from just a moment ago.

“The telegram says Yixing wanted to arrange a meeting with you. He states that the situation between South Korea and North Korea is unstable. According to his words, the war may break out any time.” Jongdae announced, trying to maintain his poise.

“It doesn’t sound good,” Baekhyun commented casually before he raised his hand to his chin to rub it in a thinker manner. Soon, the war was going to be declared. Everyone expected it, though. There had always been some kind of sinister tension between the countries, so the bloodshed was just a matter of time. Thankfully, Baekhyun thought beforehand. “When Yixing is going to arrive to Seoul?”

“In accordance with the telegram, Zhang Yixing is going to reach Seoul tomorrow before noon.”

“Damn it,” Baekhyun cursed, running his hand through his tousled hair. “And I assume he’s going to want a report. I am fucked. Do you know how hard it is to talk to Minhyuk recently? The Kkangpae is very busy these days.” Captain Byun trailed away, wondering how he was going to reach the Korean mafia boss at such unholy hour. It definitely was more difficult than contacting the president.

“What about Pyo Jihoon and Kim Yokwon? They’re his closest accomplices; they ought to know something.” Jongdae proposed, trying to find a way to help his superior, even if he didn’t approve of their relations.

Baekhyun, Minseok and Jongdae were soldiers, and soldiers ought to have not made business with mafia. The two parties believed in two, entirely different, morals. While the army praised patriotism, bravery, reliability and devotion, the mafia worshipped money, loyalty, power and deception. Some things didn’t mix, and military and gangs were the best example. Baekhyun, on the other hand, did not yet understand it.

“I may try to reach them, but it shall not give the same result.” Baekhyun mused, knowing Yixing wasn’t going to be pleased with some second-hand information. “I’ll try to contact with Jihoon. And you my friend, rest a little. I am going to need you and Minseok in the morning.”

***

22nd May 1950

“Yixing, my friend, it’s so nice to see you.” Baekhyun greeted Zhang Yixing as he entered the Captain’s study. It was nine o’clock in the morning, and Baekhyun was not ready for the meeting. He barely finished writing the report, and he wasn’t prepared for his oration. He had to romanticize the facts, and without any prior practice it was going to be rather difficult.

“I wish I could say the same thing,” Yixing chimed in, stretching his hand to shake Baekhyun’s hand habitually. “Perhaps, it would be more pleasant if the circumstances were nicer.”

“War declaration is a real ice-breaker, don’t you think?” Baekhyun jested, laughing at his own joke.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Yixing spoke before he nodded his head and took a seat in front of Baekhyun’s desk. “And since the ice is already broken, why don’t we discuss what I came here for? May I see the report?”

Baekhyun smiled sheepishly at Yixing, as he handed him the papers. “Here you go,” Baekhyun started, but Yixing snatched the folder from his hands, and opened it in haste.

When the Chinese man was reading the report with his scrutinized eyes, Captain Byun had some time to observe him. His face seemed very calm and friendly. No one would accuse him of leading Triad. Yixing looked like a placid shop owner who wouldn’t be able to hurt a fly.

“I expected something better from you, Baekhyun. You’re lucky I can work with these. Otherwise, you would be already dead.” Yixing finally spoke after skimming through the report.

“I am risking my life here. Do you forget that?” Baekhyun reminded him. It was very dangerous, and if someone found out that Baekhyun was a mole in Korean mafia, Minhyuk would personally torture and kill him.

“I am aware, but it doesn’t justify your sloppy work, does it?” Yixing spoke coldly. “Anyway, once the war is declared, I want you to notify me Korean army strategy, and then I’ll make you a rich man. I need this information, especially when Kkangpae is going to supply weapons for them.”

“I will send you a telegram as soon as the general fills me in.” Baekhyun spoke after a short sigh.

“I am looking forward to hearing from you, Captain Byun.” Yixing said, and he rose from his seat, and stretched his arm to give Baekhyun another handshake. “Don’t disappoint me unless you want me to kill you myself.”

“I would never.” Baekhyun replied, and walked Yixing to the exit. “Have a safe trip.” He added before closing the doors.

Once Baekhyun was left alone in his office, he pressed his back against the doors, and let out a huge sigh. He was playing a risky game right now, and even if quitting seemed rather tempting, he couldn’t. He had to remain in the charade until the very end.

At first, he wanted to secure his life in case of war, but who knew it would escalate to the extent where he would be forced to spy on two gangs and betray his own country?

“Fuck,” Baekhyun cursed, knowing how much screwed he was at the moment.

He must’ve been foolish when he had agreed to this.

***

4th June 1950

“General Chung has sent a telegram. He wants to see you today in his office, Captain.” Minseok announced as he walked inside of Baekhyun’s study. “The rumor has it the war is going to break out really soon.” He added, as he placed the message on Baekhyun’s desk.

“Fuck, it’s earlier than I imagined.” Baekhyun cursed, and shook his head. The war was a real threat; everything reached the point of no return. It was inevitable, and Baekhyun couldn’t do anything to change his fate. He was going to fight against the North Korean army.

“I told Private Jeon Jungkook to prepare the vehicle for you. It must be waiting for you in front of the building,” Minseok added matter-of-factly. Whenever General Chung had wanted something, it must’ve been something of great importance, especially when he requested for an immediate meeting with Captain Byun. They couldn’t afford to waste any minute, so Minseok arranged everything as soon as it was achievable.

“Thanks Minseok, you’re irreplaceable.” Baekhyun deadpanned, knowing how much trouble he was right now. And on top of that, he couldn’t do anything to prolong the process of hearing the terrible news. He was going to hear the information much sooner than he expected. “And can you do me a favor?”

“Anything,” Minseok started with a genuine smile upon his face, having his entwined behind his back.

“Go to the tavern we’ve been recently, and please, ask for Kim Sunhee. I owe her something, so if you don’t mind that would be lovely if you could bring her to my apartment around eight tonight. I don’t think she’ll hesitate.” Baekhyun started, as he sat at the edge of his desk, and played with a piece of paper that Minseok had brought.

“She has had you hooked, hasn’t she?” Minseok teased with a wide smirk decorating his face.

“I wouldn’t put it that way, actually.” Baekhyun spoke, tapping his chin with his forefinger, thinking about her. There was nothing special about her; she’d just given up completely to him. “I was just dragged away from her before I wanted so. That’s it, so don’t read too much into it.”

***

4th June 1950

“Baekhyun, it’s always so nice to see you!” General Chung cheered when Baekhyun entered his office. “Here, take a seat.” He spoke, as he pointed at the chair in front of his desk.

“You wanted to speak with me, General Chung?” Baekhyun asked, wishing the General didn’t want to talk about war. It was nearly impossible the meeting was arranged due to different reasons, yet Baekhyun wanted to believe the hope died last.

“Ah, yes, I believe I have some bad news to pass.” The general stated, seeming a bit hesitant, as if seeking for the proper words to pass the message. “Despite politicians’ effort, the war is inevitable. The president has asked me to strategize our defense, and since you’re one of my best people within the army, I decided you and your squad, are going to defend the border. I will give you one thousand of the best qualified soldiers, so you could keep North Koreans for as long as it’s possible.”

Baekhyun was speechless.

He hadn’t done business with Korean and Chinese mafia to be in the center of the war! Having come up with such risky and dangerous plan, he wasn’t supposed to lead his men to death!

“It’s such an honor, Your Excellency, but are you sure I’m qualified to carry out so important part of the defense? I can bet you could find a person who would suit this position better in a matter of minutes.” Baekhyun replied as politely and humbly as he could. He would do everything to change the General’s mind. He didn’t want to die as a cannon fodder.

“Nonsense,” disagreed the General. “I thought this through, and you’re the most capable person to carry this out.” He admitted, smiling at the Capitan who was ready to beg. “This time, we’re putting the civilians’ safety above all, so we must stop the army just by the border. You must understand my decision. Soldiers must defend people who can’t defend themselves.”

That was very thoughtful and caring of General Chung. Unfortunately, right now, Baekhyun cared only about his own safety, which seemed to be non-existent, as he was going to die as soon as the war would break out.

“Right, we wouldn’t want that.” Baekhyun agreed, although deep inside he wished he was a civilian, too.

“I’m glad we agree. I always knew I could count on you.” General Chung spoke, sending Baekhyun a polite smile. “In this folder, you have all the details regarding the mission. My men are going to be sent to the border on the fifteenth of June, so please be ready to join them by then.”

“Of course, I am honored.” Baekhyun gritted, and thanked through his clenched his teeth.

***

Baekhyun paced around his apartment, trying to come up with an idea which might help him get himself out of the mess. Having ruffled his hair in annoyance, he looked at his wrist watch. He had screwed his life, and moreover, Minseok didn’t bring Sunhee yet.

Everything seemed that Baekhyun’s life was a path of constant disappointment and trouble with zero pleasure.

It sucked.

Suddenly, Baekhyun heard a knock on the doors. It didn’t even take him thirty seconds to answer them.

It was Minseok.

And he was alone.

“Where’s Sunhee?” Baekhyun asked, as he moved aside, so his friend could enter his apartment. “I thought you were supposed to bring her here? Where is she?” He repeated himself in hope that Sunhee was around, and she just had to brush her hair, or put a lipstick on.

“I have bad news, Captain,” Minseok started, as he sighed.

“Wonderful, all day I keep getting bad news. Does one more make any difference?” Baekhyun asked rhetorically, throwing his hands in the air. Sighing, Baekhyun rubbed his head, as he waited for the message to be delivered. “Are you going to tell me, or not?” Baekhyun rushed as it seemed that Minseok was hesitant about explaining the situation to him. “Just spill it out.”

“I went to the tavern just after you left.” Minseok started casually. It didn’t sound like a bad news at all, yet Baekhyun couldn’t wait for the plot twist. Today was definitely the worst day of his life, so why wouldn’t make it even worse? “And when I came in, I almost threw up. Someone turned the tavern into a slaughterhouse. Everything was red, painted with blood. The bodies were scattered all over the floor, everyone was killed—the owner, the employees, the customers. Everyone.”

Baekhyun was mortified. Why and who would do something like that to these people? They didn’t do anything wrong, and even if some of them weren’t saints, Baekhyun could bet the bloody massacre was quite an overkill.

“Are you sure that Kim Sunhee got killed, too?” Baekhyun asked, as whoever had done this might’ve taken her as a hostage. It was highly unlikely, but Baekhyun hoped nonetheless. She was too innocent to die so tragically. He hadn’t even corrupted her properly yet.

“I didn’t check everyone’s IDs, but I doubt she’s survived. You knew her better; did she seem she could defend herself?”

“No, she couldn’t.” Baekhyun sighed in resignation. Sunhee was innocent, gentle and mellow. She would never win against some lunatic who wielded a weapon. “Well… that’s very tragic.” He summed up, thinking of Sunhee. She’s dead, but she wasn’t anyone valuable to him, so he wasn’t going to mourn her.

“Sorry,” Minseok spoke, giving his poor version on consolation. “It seems you must find someone else to keep you company tonight.”

“I’m not in the mood for the chase tonight.” Baekhyun admitted truthfully. After the conversation with General Chung and the massacre in the tavern, Baekhyun mentally didn’t fancy leaving his apartment. For today, he was going to rest. For the rest of his days off, he was going to fuck as many women as he could. He’s going to die shortly after the war would break out, so he needed live to the fullest. “Tonight, my dearest whisky is going to keep me company.”

“Whatever you want, man.” Minseok smiled, and patted Baekhyun’s shoulder. “I am not going to stop you, but I need to go. Unlike you, I am not going to waste my time, being all locked up in the four walls.”

“Just go already; you give me a headache.” Baekhyun shook his head, showing Minseok the way out. If his friend wanted to hit the bar and fuck a hooker, Baekhyun wasn’t going to stop him, but for sure he wasn’t going to accompany him. The whole situation was a real bummer, and Baekhyun didn’t fancy chasing women into his bed right now. Only Sunhee was an easy prey, which still had some innocence left within her.

“See you in the morning, Captain Byun.” Minseok saluted, and exited Baekhyun’s apartment. Perhaps, Baekhyun was slightly attached to the killed girl, but Minseok wasn’t, so he didn’t plan on mourning. Once the war broke out, Sunhee’s going to be one of many meaningless victims, and Minseok couldn’t force himself to show Baekhyun that he cared. He was frank, and made it quite obvious that he couldn’t care any less.

Humming to a smooth song, Baekhyun reached for a whisky decanter and poured a drink for himself. Only alcohol would keep him company tonight, and he didn’t even feel the urge to complain. It wasn’t that bad, actually. He would pass out in the middle of the night, sleeping in the middle of a twister inside of his head.

Once he added a few cubes of ice, he sighed and took a sip.

It was just as bitter as his fate.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the doors, making him turn his head toward the entrance. Did Minseok forget something? Sighing loudly, Baekhyun placed the glass on the nightstand, and opened the doors.

“Sunhee,” Baekhyun hollered, as soon as he glimpsed at her. She was covered in blood and mud. She looked terrible; almost as if she fought the devil, and crawled out from hell by herself. “What are you doing here? Are you alive? How? I sent my protégé to bring you here, but he said that everyone was killed.” He asked many questions, but instead of waiting for her reply, he yanked her inside.

“I saw your friend, but I was still afraid that I may get killed, so I hid, and followed him here.” Sunhee confessed, trembling in front of him. It was really cold outside, and she was all drenched. “I didn’t know anyone outside of the tavern except you, Captain Byun. I hope that my presence here is not a burden.”

“Of course, it’s not. Actually, I ordered Minseok to go back to the tavern to bring you here.” Baekhyun confessed, taking a step back from her. Even if he pitied her for what she had experienced, he wasn’t going to let her stain his uniform. “Why don’t you take a bath, while I’ll try to get you something clean to wear, huh?”

“That would be lovely.” Sunhee smiled, and even if her face was very attractive when smiling, due to the dirt, it was mediocre. Baekhyun was indifferent about the gesture, which normally would make his heart flutter a little.

“And call me Captain Byun one more time, and I won’t be this nice.” Baekhyun warned her.

***

At this hour, every shop was closed. Baekhyun didn’t have women’s clothes in his apartment, either. Moreover, he couldn’t let Sunhee wear his clothing, even if he found it sexy, and the clothes were only a little too big; he wouldn’t do it. The only option left was visiting the apartment of a female officer. Baekhyun didn’t particularly like her, since she was too masculine for his taste, but at least, she had almost the same size as Sunhee.

Within thirty minutes, he was back in his apartment with a pair of olive green pants with a high waist, an ecru blouse with puffy sleeves, and a set of plain undergarments. Swiftly, he opened the bathroom doors. When he entered, Sunhee was out of the bath, wrapped in a towel.

“I brought you some clothes.” Baekhyun spoke, and stretched his arm, handing her the clothes.

“Thank you, Baekhyun.” Sunhee replied, and bowed at him, smiling. This time her smile was radiant, and if Baekhyun’s heart could skip a beat in such awful circumstances, it definitely would.

“I’ll wait outside. Just get out when you’re ready.” He said, and turned around, wanting to exit the room. However, once his hand was on the knob, Sunhee called him. Quickly, Baekhyun looked at her, trying to figure out what she wanted to tell him. “What is it?”

“All these people were killed in front of me, and I was wondering if you could hug me?” Sunhee asked, knowing it was shameless. She and Baekhyun were strangers, yet she couldn’t refrain herself. Sunhee needed comfort, consolation and warmth, and the only person who could fulfill her desires was Baekhyun.

Before Baekhyun managed to reject her plea, Sunhee ran up to him and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her head in the crook of his neck. Normally, Baekhyun would push her away almost instantly, but right now, he needed solace himself.

“Everything is okay, Sunhee. You’re safe now.” Baekhyun whispered, as he placed his hand on the back of her head, and pulled her closer. In the bright scenario, he had maybe a year of life left; it really wouldn’t hurt him to act as if he was in a relationship. It was just one night; with the sunrise, everything would come back to normal. “No matter who did this, he’s not going to get you here.”

“I know,” she agreed, and snuggled closer to Baekhyun. It was warm, and although the sensation didn’t erase the picture from her mind, she definitely felt better in Baekhyun’s embrace. “Is there something bothering you, Baekhyun? You seem sad, and I don’t think it’s entirely my fault.”

Only a fool wouldn’t notice the gloomy aura around him. Moreover, it was much more serious that Sunhee’s arrival. Something had happened, what ruined Baekhyun world, too. They both were going through darkness; perhaps, each other’s company might help find them a glimmer of hope?

“It’s nothing we can do to solve my problem. I’ll just have to live through it.” Baekhyun spoke, his voice filled with regret and anxiety. He found himself in this situation because of his choices, and right now, he got to stand up and take the punishment proudly. “Don’t worry your pretty head, though.” He added, as he placed his hands on both sides of her head, and forced her to look at him. “I’ll be alright.”

“You don’t sound like it,” Sunhee retorted, knowing that Baekhyun was struggling with some serious trouble. He wasn’t as carefree and confident as he had used to be.

“I know what would make me feel much better.” Baekhyun confessed before he smirked and grabbed the hem of the towel, firmly tearing the wet material off of her body and throwing it onto the floor. Slowly, his hand started to roam all around her bare back down to her bottom. “What do you say Sunhee?” He asked, while gently massaging her hips.

Her eyes were completely focused on his face; almost as if there was nothing else to look at. Right now, his sparkling eyes and curved lips were Sunhee’s whole world. Shyly, Sunhee licked her bottom lip, as she took a step forward, and pulled him into a chaste kiss.

She moved her lips against his slowly, devouring every single second of it. Baekhyun preferred rough kisses over innocent ones, but this one time, it didn’t matter. It felt nice, and he wasn’t going to change it into another meaningless fuck. He didn’t have much time left, and he got to experience everything he had been missing out on throughout his entire life.

“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.” Baekhyun spoke when he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. “Or you just came here to get into my pants?” He asked, smirking. It would be better if the situation became a bit less serious. Instead of worrying what’s going to happen in a month or two, they should’ve cherished the present.

“You know it’s not like that.” She quickly replied, and smacked his shoulder lightly.

“Don’t act so prude, Sunhee. I think we’ve already passed that stage. You’re naughty, Sunhee. A kind of naughty I utterly adore.” He confessed, and pecked her nose before he hoisted her up, helping her wrap her legs around his hips.

“I am sure your sweet talk has stolen many hearts.” Sunhee admitted just before Baekhyun approached the bed and threw her on the sheets. “And panties, too, I bet you have lots of them in your drawer.”

“One night with me, and look what happened to you! You’ve become a textbook example of a sinner.” Baekhyun commented, looking at her hungrily. Sunhee was hot; moreover, she was completely corrupted by his sinful tricks.

“Oh, you have no idea.” Sunhee agreed with him, and strangely for her, she smirked at him, and even if she was a smile kind of a girl, it did turn Baekhyun on.

Quite impatiently, Baekhyun kicked off his shoes, and undid a few first buttons of his shirt before he climbed on the bed, finding his place in between her legs. “You’re beautiful, Sunhee.” Baekhyun complimented the girl, as he spread her legs wider. “You’re beautiful everywhere.” He added as he leaned in, and placed delicate kisses on the inner side of her right thigh.

Sunhee tried to close her legs when Baekhyun poked his tongue against her core.

“Relax, Sunhee.” He spoke, holding her legs apart.

Baekhyun continued to massage her folds with his tongue.

“Ah—“she moaned loudly, as Baekhyun started to suck her clit. Her toes immediately curled, the small explosions erupted in her lower parts when Baekhyun inserted his finger inside. “Baekhyun,” she gasped, and gripped the sheets. It was embarrassing, but Baekhyun knew exactly was he was doing. He barely touched her, and she already felt aroused.

“You’re so sensitive.” Baekhyun commented, smiling at her. “Do you want to touch me?” He quickly asked, hoping the girl would return the favor. Innocent girls had always been a bit hesitant about going down on a man, but Sunhee, being such a fast-learner, couldn’t disappoint him. He had a hunch she was naughtier than he thought she was; therefore she had no trouble sucking him off.

“I’m going to be terrible,” she said, observing as he plopped beside her. He sighed, lying down on his back, fighting with the rest of the buttons.

“Trust me; I’m not going to complain.” He added, as he sat up, and threw his shirt on the floor.

Hesitantly, Sunhee sat up as well, trying to ignore Baekhyun’s stares at her naked chest. “You better keep your word,” she retorted under her breath, before her hands reached to his belt. “Tell me if you don’t like it, and I’ll stop.” Sunhee added, when she pulled down his zipper.

“As I said, ‘I’m not going to complain’.” Baekhyun gritted through his teeth, trying to disguise his urgency. He desperately wanted Sunhee to touch him. He needed release, and starting off with a little blow job would definitely make the act way more pleasurable.

Slowly, Sunhee slid her hands under the waistband of his underwear, and pulled it down, along with the pants. Baekhyun’s length was still floppy, but it was up to Sunhee to get him ready.

Not really knowing what to do, she grabbed his cock around its base, and started pumping her semi-clenched fist up and down.

“Just spit on my cock.” Baekhyun instructed her, as he didn’t find it as enjoyable.

Thinking about his tip, Sunhee spat on her hand, and once again started to stroke his member. This time, it was much easier.

“Go a little faster,” Baekhyun commented, as he closed his eyes, and rested his head on his entwined fingers. “Ah—“he whispered silently, giving in to the pleasure. “Take it in your mouth,” he ordered, when his cock was finally hard. “Sunhee, please,” Baekhyun said desperately, being close to begging.

Sunhee was stressed. She had never done it, and she was genuinely afraid that Baekhyun wouldn’t like it. Furthermore, how would she feel if she couldn’t please Baekhyun after he had almost made her come with his mouth?

Hesitating, Sunhee leaned forward and licked his cock.

“Sunhee, are you teasing me?” Baekhyun hissed, as he felt her tongue moving across his length. “Just suck me off already before I fuck your mouth on my own.” He warned, looking down at her. Sunhee looked ridiculously beautiful in between his legs.

As being told, Sunhee wrapped her mouth around his cock, and sucked the tip, hollowing her cheeks. She knew that Baekhyun watched her, so she looked up at him in the eyes. Baekhyun seemed to be enjoying it.

Her head bobbed up and down even if she was swallowing only a half of his cock, while her hand stroked its base and balls.

Baekhyun was in the seventh heaven, but he just couldn’t come in her mouth. He wanted to feel her pussy, and come there. Nothing else gave him more satisfaction.

“Enough,” he hollered, making Sunhee stop immediately. “It was fantastic, but please, let me,” he stopped min-sentenced, as he tilted her chin with his forefinger, and enchanted her to near her face, so he could kiss her.

The kiss was impassioned, and the both of them got lost in the affection. Sunhee didn’t even notice his hand on her back, as he pulled her on the sheets and crawled on top of her. “It’s my first time fucking a woman slow, so don’t judge.”

“It’s my first time fucking a man slow, too.” Sunhee spoke matter-of-factly, making Baekhyun laugh at her silly response. “Why are you laughing? I’m being honest with you.” She added, but Baekhyun hushed her with a passionate kiss.

When Sunhee was engrossed with the kiss, Baekhyun guided his cock to her entrance, and gently rocked his hips forward, gliding inside of her pussy. She was tight, but he entered her without any trouble.

“No need to worry, you’re doing great,” Sunhee commented, as she pulled away from the kiss. Baekhyun moved his hips back and forth, delicately pushing his cock as deep as he could.

“I think I’ve created a monster,” Baekhyun muttered, knowing that Sunhee was growing very comfortable around him. She even dared to tease him!

“Why? Are you afraid that the student will become a master?” Sunhee retorted wittily.

Baekhyun shook his head, as he couldn’t believe that Sunhee just talked back to him.

“Shut up already. Why do you have to be so smart?” He smiled, and hushed by sealing their lips together. Shortly after, his hips found the perfect rhythm, and helped Sunhee hooked her legs around his waist.

Sunhee placed her hands in Baekhyun’s hair, pulling him closer, but when he buried his face in the crook of her neck, she dug her nails in his back, drawing red lines all over his skin rather painfully.

“I think I’m going to come, Baekhyun. Please, keep doing it,” Sunhee begged, feeling her orgasm approaching.

Baekhyun kept his pace, listening to Sunhee’s moans and their flesh slapping against each other. It was a perfect mix of devotion and lust, and when he focused on the sounds in the room, he was close, too. It almost made him forget about his sad fate.

“Ah—“she screamed at the top of her lungs when Baekhyun’s thrust pushed her off the edge, ripping her apart in the best orgasm of her life. “Fuck!” She cursed, panting.

“Hold on, I’m about to join you in the bliss soon.” Baekhyun commented and kissed her forehead, as he kept pumping his cock inside of her wet pussy. “You’re fucking amazing, Sunhee.” Baekhyun praised, as he reached his high, and fell on the bed beside her.

“You’re not that bad yourself, too.” Sunhee teased, as he looked at Baekhyun’s sweaty face.

They lay in bed for a while, trying to catch their breaths, regaining their strength. There was no way they would end this after only one time.

Surprisingly, Sunhee was the first one trying to sneak out of the bed, but when Baekhyun noticed her attempt to crawl out of the sheets, he quickly yanked her back even if he didn’t want to cuddle with her.

“Let’s talk,” he offered, making her look him in the eyes. “What happened at the tavern? Did you see who did it? Perhaps, I’ll be able to avenge your colleagues.” Baekhyun started, proposing his help. He was going to die in the war, why shouldn’t he, at least, have tried to make something right?

“There’s nothing really much to say. Kkangpae butchered everybody in there.” Sunhee announced frankly, while Baekhyun tried his best to hide his shocked expression. What, on earth, the Korean mafia had sought for in the tavern? They couldn’t have possibly looked for him, could they? If that’s the case, he was screwed far worse than he had thought.

“How do you know it was Kkangpae? It could be anyone.” Baekhyun asked, hoping she just misunderstood the situation. Perhaps, it was just a pissed supplier who just hadn’t been paid for the alcohol. The Korean mafia wouldn’t have bothered to slaughter a second-rate tavern.

“I know because I am a part of Kkangpae, and I killed them.” Sunhee confessed, and reached for Baekhyun’s gun which was inside of the nightstand. “They saw my face, they had to die.” She added, and pointed the weapon at Baekhyun, smirking.

***

4th June 1950

Baekhyun snorted at the view of Sunhee holding his gun, aiming at him. “Funny,” he mused, and shook his head in disbelief, as he got up and sought for his clothes. “I almost believed you, Sunhee. I almost did.” The Captain continued, as he buckled his belt and threw his white button-down on his shoulders. “It’s dangerous, Sunhee. Put that down before you hurt yourself.”

“Silly me,” Sunhee played along with him; it was irresistible. The role she had been acting in front of Baekhyun must’ve had a huge impact on his thinking, as her confession didn’t make any sense to the Captain. She even wondered how long it’d take for Baekhyun to understand that she wasn’t joking; she really was a part of Kkangpae and she really had killed these people in the tavern.

“As I said, it’s dangerous.” Baekhyun repeated himself, as he approached Sunhee and gently snatched the gun from her hands, placing it back in the drawer. “I’d never forgive myself if you hurt yourself.” He added, and cupped her cheeks, kissing her forehead rather fondly.

“If you continue to speak like that, I may think you’ve fallen for me, Captain Byun.” Sunhee admitted, and smirked at him, knowing he wouldn’t mind calling him so officially. Baekhyun could sense that her words were soaked with teasing, and they meant no harm. He understood she did it to tease him, not to signalize she wanted to return to being a military captain and a waitress.

“Who wouldn’t in my place? Sunhee, you’re beautiful and innocent, and you’ve turned into a true sinner in bed. You’re perfect,” he confessed, as he gently caressed her cheek, staring into her eyes. “I know I don’t know you, but you’re everything a man can wish. Unfortunately, I don’t think I have time for romance. If only I could stay here with you, I would without thinking twice.” Baekhyun confessed, and Sunhee felt flattered. She couldn’t fall for her target, but her heart skipped nonetheless. “Unfortunately, the war is going to break out soon, and regardless of what I have tried, I don’t think I am going to survive it.”

“Of course, you’re not going to survive it.” Sunhee stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I don’t understand how you could’ve thought treason would do any good to you.” She added, and Baekhyun looked at her, being mortified as ever. How the fuck did she know about it, he wondered. “Tell me, you didn’t think you could screw the Kkangpae over, did you?” She asked, smirking.

“How?” Baekhyun inquired, as he swallowed hard.

“I’ve already told you, Baekhyun.” Sunhee smirked, putting emphasize on his name which rolled off her tongue in a calm yet teasing manner. “I am a part of Kkangpae, and I was assigned to assassinate you.” She spoke, and pulled out a silver dagger, not breaking the eye contact with him.

“I don’t understand; you’re a woman.” Baekhyun spoke, his throat dry.

“Yes, I am.” Sunhee smiled softly at him. “It’s a rare occurrence, but it’s not impossible. Have you ever heard about the Golden Children?” Sunhee asked, and Baekhyun gasped.

“No, it can’t be. It’s just a myth.” Baekhyun said, as he couldn’t believe in Sunhee’s words. Everybody knew that it was just a legend. The mafia didn’t recruit children; it was just a tale, so offspring wouldn’t talk to strangers. There was no such a thing as the Golden Children. Sunhee had to be lying; it was just a bluff. It had to be.

“I am afraid it is not.” Sunhee sneered, running her finger across the blade. “Moreover, every legend wields a little bit of truth, don’t you agree, Captain?” She smiled, her legs swinging back and forth. “I was five when they found me. I was in the orphanage, as my parents had been taken away by disease. Even when I was a little girl, I was fast and smart; despite my sex, they saw my potential. As the myth says, I was being trained to become one of the deadliest weapons in the entire country, and right now, my assignment is to finish you before you manage to pass the strategy plans to our enemy.”

“Sunhee, stop it. It’s not funny anymore.” Baekhyun said, and maneuvered his hands as if wanting to calm her down.

“It was never meant to be funny, Baekhyun.” Sunhee continued, staring at the blade which was illuminating the moonlight.

“So this is true? You’re a part of the Kkangpae, one of the Golden Children, and you were tasked to assassinate me?” Baekhyun asked, and Sunhee nodded. Although he didn’t want to believe her, she seemed pretty serious. “Even if it’s true, you won’t. You can’t. You’re surrounded by my division. You won’t get out.”

“And you’re mistaken again, Captain Byun.” Sunhee smirked, as she jumped off the desk, pacing back and fro in front of him. “I am not alone. You must know the private Jeon Jungkook, right? Has it ever occurred to you why he was so skilled? He’s exactly like me. We’re both the golden children, and while I’m talking to you, he slaughters each and every one of your soldiers. We don’t leave any traces, but you must’ve figured it out by now.”

“You don’t have to kill me, Sunhee.” Baekhyun announced, as he sat on the edge of the bed, his head hung low. “I haven’t told anything Yixing yet. We may fool him. He doesn’t know that I work for Kkangpae. We may trick him, and win the war. You and I, together.”

Baekhyun didn’t know what he was doing. Although it was true, Sunhee couldn’t believe him. He had tried to betray the country once, so he would do it twice; all to his own benefit. He couldn’t be trusted, and even the sweetest words wouldn’t convince her. She had been trained her whole life; Baekhyun wasn’t capable of manipulating her.

“I don’t think so. This is not how it works.” Sunhee shook her head. “It doesn’t really matter. In my eyes, you’re always going to be a traitor, and we don’t value anything more than we do loyalty. You’re already a lost case; you had your chance, and you wasted it. You shouldn’t have played a game you couldn’t win.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“But I am.” Sunhee replied, as she sat on the bed beside him, placing her hand on his back. “This is the end, and I have no further intention to bargain with you. I really don’t want to lecture you, Baekhyun. I am going to follow my orders.”

“We can run away. I can see you’re not indifferent to my advances. You grew fond of me; just as I grew fond of you, Sunhee. You can’t just kill me.” Baekhyun confessed, but Sunhee only sighed. True, she liked him, but not to the extent of betraying her family and fatherland. Whether his feelings were genuine, or he just voiced them out, hoping they would get him out of that situation, Sunhee wasn’t going to change her mind and oppose her leader. No matter how lovely Baekhyun’s voice was, she knew better–Baekhyun wasn’t worth it.

He was a traitor, and he deserved to die.

“No, Baekhyun. If we met under completely different circumstances, it could’ve worked out.” Sunhee spoke, Baekhyun staring straight into her eyes, as if hoping she would melt under his loving gaze. “You’re a traitor, and I kill traitors. We are not meant to be.”

“Don’t say that.” Baekhyun said softly, cupping her left cheek, caressing her skin with his thumb gently. Sunhee closed her eyes, but her grip on the dagger as just as tight. He wanted to lure her into his trap, to seduce her. It would never work, though. “Sunhee, please; you don’t have to do this. You can let me go.” He added, and locked her lips with his, the kiss slowly turning into a more passionate one. He tried to pour his emotions out; to signalize her how much he cared about her. “You can run away with me. You don’t have to be their slave. You can be free, with me. We can leave this mess behind us; we’ll live a happy life.”

“How stupid do you think I am?” Sunhee asked, as she pulled away from the kiss, and pressed the tip of the blade against Baekhyun’s neck, grazing it gently, so a single drop of blood ran down his skin. “Baekhyun, everything is over. You ruined everything the moment you thought of betraying us. The damage is done; you can’t do anything to alter your future. I’m going to kill you, and your pathetic cries for mercy are useless.”

Baekhyun’s fate had been already decided; he couldn’t do anything to avoid the doom. By choosing to betray the country and the Kkangpae, he brought death upon himself.

“Please, Sunhee. There has to be a way!” Baekhyun yelled, as he snatched the knife out of her hand, and tossed it across the room. Normally, she wouldn’t let him disarm her so easily; it was her fault that she wondered what he could do to fight for his life. He didn’t stand a chance of persuading her, but the curiosity got the better of her.

“You have no shame, do you?” Sunhee inquired, tilting her head to the side. Baekhyun’s demeanor changed beyond recognition; almost as if a completely different person was standing before her. Captain Byun was confident, fierce and strong. Baekhyun, on the other hand, was weak and pitiful. “Actually, when I think about it, there might be a way.”

“I’ll do everything.” Baekhyun eagerly answered, staring at Sunhee, waiting impatiently for her to reveal whatever came across her mind. There was an escape route, and Baekhyun would do anything to get on the right track.

“It shall be enormously difficult, though.” Sunhee added, touching her chin, thinking of the best way to deliver the message.

“What is it, Sunhee?” Baekhyun asked, his eyes glimmering with hope. He had a chance, although Sunhee had been stating his case was helpless. Whatever it was, he wouldn’t waste it. If there was really a possibility for him to escape this horrible situation, he couldn’t quit.

“You have to kill me.” She spoke flatly. From her perspective, it was the only way. She wouldn’t let him leave the room, so the only option for him was to kill her. And if he actually managed to do that, he’d have to face Jungkook, too. “I can’t allow you to run away, and if you really want to survive, you have to kill me.”

Baekhyun was petrified. How could he do that? He didn’t love her, but he wasn’t entirely indifferent, either. There was something about her what would always draw him closer; he was genuinely fond of her, and if he got a chance to see her daily, he would undoubtedly fall for her. He just couldn’t kill her.

“You can’t be serious,” Baekhyun commented, but Sunhee continued to stare at him blankly. She didn’t look like as if she was joking. Nonetheless, Baekhyun didn’t like the solution. Sunhee was a woman, and Baekhyun just couldn’t fight her.

“Only one of us can leave this room alive.” Sunhee added, and Baekhyun cupped her cheeks again, and smashed his lips against her. His tongue immediately started to devour her mouth, making her whimper.

Baekhyun was a traitor, but Sunhee was different. The boss had assigned her to execute a task, and she was going to complete it. She wasn’t like Baekhyun; she would never bail out on the given order. They wanted Baekhyun’s head, and she was going to conduct the order to the very end, or she would die trying.

“Baekhyun–“Sunhee panted, as she drew back. The kiss felt amazing, but she would never betray her family. “Stop, it’s over.” She pushed him on the bed, and went across the room to pick up her knife.

Sunhee held it in front of her, and Baekhyun just stood up, the blade’s tip being pressed against his naked chest, almost cutting the skin.

“You won’t do it.” He whispered, placing his hand on top of hers, pressing the knife against him tighter. “I know we barely know each other, but the passion we have is something unique.” He added matter-of-factly, as he snatched the knife, and swirled her around, holding the weapon in front of her neck, the blade almost grazing her skin. “You don’t want to kill me.” Baekhyun murmured, nipping her ear shell gently.

“This isn’t about what I want; it’s about what must be done.” Sunhee retorted, and quickly twisted his hand around, so the knife fell onto the ground.

“They’ve brainwashed you; you don’t have to do anything.” Baekhyun replied, as he grabbed her wrist, and pushed her onto the bed, hovering above her a second later. “Run away with me. Fuck the Kkangpae, fuck the war. Let’s leave it behind; you and me, together.”

Sunhee couldn’t tell the proposition wasn’t tempting. Baekhyun’s words really sparked her interest, although she knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. She was a part of Kkangpae; they were their family. She couldn’t turn her back on them. They had taken her in when she was little and raised her as if she was their blood.  Sunhee would never betray them, especially not when they had given her so much when she hadn’t had anything.

Baekhyun’s proposition sounded amazing, but she would never give in.

“I can’t, and I won’t. They are my family, and one can’t betray one’s blood.” Sunhee spoke, pushing Baekhyun off her, so the man fell onto the floor. “You tried playing, and you lost; don’t drag me down with you.” She added, as she opened the drawer, and clenched her fingers around the gun.

“Sunhee, don’t.” Baekhyun raised his hands in defeat, as he stood up. “What do I have to do to convince you?”

“You can’t do anything.” Sunhee spoke flatly, holding the gun up, aiming at his naked chest. “Whatever you think, it wasn’t meant to be. You’re a traitor, and you’ll die as one.”

“Please,” Baekhyun murmured, a single tear rolling down his cheek, his voice breaking at the end of the word. “Save me.” He lowered his hand, and took a step forward. “Save me, Sunhee.” He spoke slowly, enveloping his arms around her, pressing her head in the crook of his neck. “You’re my last hope.”

Sunhee shouldn’t listen to him. She had been taught better. If a person betrayed, couldn’t be trusted ever again. It would take a lifetime to restore trust, and Baekhyun wouldn’t persuade her in one night.

“Baekhyun, don’t make it harder than it already is.” She pushed him away, taking her aim. He was susceptible, completely defenseless. “The decision whether you live or not is not mine; I follow orders, and I will always abide by them. That’s where we’re different. You betrayed for your own benefit, whereas I will execute the command even when my heart tells me not to.” Sunhee confessed, and ran her tongue across her lips, as she stared at him.

“So, this is how everything is going to end, huh?” Baekhyun sighed, and shook his head, looking down at his feet. “You’re really stubborn, Sunhee. Has anyone told you that before?” He stated, smiling at the girl. “I know it won’t change your mind, but I want you to know that I regret it. I shouldn’t have done what I did. It’s my mistake, and you’re right when you say I should man up and suffer the consequences. I wish I had met you before this whole mess. Maybe, I’d have behaved differently.”

“Goodbye, Baekhyun.” Sunhee spoke, staring at Baekhyun fondly.

“Goodbye, Sunhee.” Baekhyun replied, sending her a wide smile. “Live well.”

Not daring to blink, Sunhee pulled the trigger. She shot right through his heart.

Baekhyun was afraid of death. He had tried multiple ways to fool death. His precautions brought this fortune upon him.

Baekhyun was a good person; he only wanted to be safe.

Shortly after Baekhyun’s heart stopped beating, Jungkook entered the apartment. Sunhee looked at him, and smiled. Her mission was complete; they fulfilled the given orders.

“Come on, let’s go.” Jungkook spoke quietly, and stretched his arm, holding her hand gently. Sunhee didn’t hesitate, and quickly approached him. In silence, they exited the apartment, leaving Baekhyun’s corpse behind them.

Baekhyun wasn’t her first target; he wasn’t her last one, either.

It felt different, though.

Whenever, she pondered about it, she knew that killing him was the most difficult choice she had ever made. She didn’t regret it, but she would remember Captain Byun till the end of her days.

[migleefulmoments]

Pre-wedding photographs are pretty much the mainstream norm these days. I know wedding photographers and it's common when a wedding is late afternoon or early evening so they can capture appropriate lighting and get the wedding party freshly groomed. The whole not seeing the bride thing is just personal preference. My husband and I arrived at our wedding together and walked up the aisle together just like Darren and Mia because we'd been living together for over a decade at the time.

Yeah...besides the perfect lighting issue-which is definitely a big deal, the idea of “not seeing the bride” is an old fashioned Christian tradition. Mia is Jewish and Darren isn’t a traditional guy- something I am very comfortable saying after the wedding and his Vogue interview. If people want to uphold that tradition- good on them...it’s their wedding. The beauty of a wedding is the bride and groom get to pick what they want. But making a big deal about it is just stupid. We took pics before our wedding 24 years ago- so did my BIL and SIL and all of the Jewish weddings I have been to.

I walked down the aisle with my parents and my husband walked with his. But if I got married now, I would walk together.  We drove together 2 hours to the wedding site after spending the night together- gasp- at my mom’s house. I made the cake and had never made a wedding cake let alone transported one-i was terrified of it getting ruined in the July heat, so we drove 2 hours with the air condition blasting. I remember it was super cold in the car.  

The ccers’ obsession with all the things Darren “should” have done- the first dance, the “not seeing each other”, the “first glance” which apparently they missed by walking down the aisle together and taking pics before hand (duh, they still had a first glance, it just wasn’t at the ceremony) and all the things he should be doing now like smiling all the time because he just got married and taking time off from public events because he just got married is all so silly, judgmental and frankly, really traditional, 1950′s thinking. Darren and Mia are unconventional and they were never going to do things the way Abby and the astronauts claim they personally would. The wedding ceremony is a beautiful moment in any relationship, but it is just a moment, part of the life they are building...a life that includes living in a beautiful home they built and a bar baby they gave birth to. 

You can ignore the rest of this -I went rouge but I needed to share these ridiculous women. They are the OPPOSITE of Lady Gang, but just as ridiculous in their own way. I give you,  “Girl Defined”. They are...well, watch them. They spend a lot of time saying absolutely nothing. Everything is about glorifying God but they never really explain what that means other than a lot of early 1900′s patriarchal ideas like protecting men from the temptation of female sexuality. The comment section is a shit show. Why they don’t disable comments is beyond me.    

I found a perfect YouTube channel old fashion,  Disney Princess Love ideals:

I watched this...7 minutes into the 12 min video and they had not mentioned one hint on how to find a modest dress. Finally got to the “hint” and it was that a viewer DM’ed her with the dress shop in San Antonio which is 2 hours away from her home so she went and found  THE Dress.  That isn’t helpful to the entire world outside of the driving distance to San Antonio. This has nothing to do with Darren or the ccers but I was just so annoyed with it that I wanted to make everyone else watch it as well. 

Oh, I found another one 

[markwatkinsconsumerguide]

Consumer Guide / No.52 / Singer-songwriter Nancy Nova with Mark Watkins.

MW : Why pick 'Nancy Nova' as your stage name?

NN : At the beginning of my career, I was working with Ken Gibson (who became my husband and father to my four boys) and Roberto Danova. They were a great team, wonderfully talented and just a little bit off the wall!

Well….(I can feel this interview may go on for some time!) , well, they wanted to make an album with me…how could I refuse?…….and we decided to have a Kookie kind of name to go with my Kookie little voice!! (I don’t know if Kookie is a real word at all. Forgive me, I’m inclined to make words up!! I’m sure there are unreal words in The Force, for example : )

….where were we? Soooo…..we all liked the end of Robbie’s name , Nova (he’s Italian you know),…new star n all..and alliteration is always catchy! …I liked Nancy, as in Oliver Twist and Sinatra…so that was it!!

MW : "The voice" : how did you discover you could sing to professional standards? What is your vocal range? How do you keep your vocal chords in top condition?

NN : Do you know, I’ve never thought about singing to “professional standards”. I would if I sung classically but this is art and self expression.I’ve always loved singing but I was never that confident singing to an audience.

Having Kingbones (Ken) as my producer was amazing. He was a perfectionist and I was far from perfect. There were many hours in the studio, many tears, much laughter and I learnt that way.

The recording studio is my favourite place to create. Oh how I love layering on those harmonies and getting a line or expression just right in a song. I’ve got a big range, but don’t know what it is!! Four octaves or something. My vocal chords are probably not in top condition but I have always been healthy.

I do vocal exercises, I do yoga, walk, swim, dance…eat healthily…always have. I don’t do vocal exercises every day at the moment and it takes about two-three weeks of daily exercises to get back a good, confident singing voice.

It’s like horse riding - when you can guide that horse with the lightest touch on the reins….it feels like the same control, for me, as singing with a well exercised voice.

MW : Share some of your favourite memories of your much missed Father, Bob Holness...

NN : Oh my goodness. There are so many!! He and my Mother met in a theatre company in South Africa. They played romantic couples on stage and then got married for real! I was born, and then my Sister 18 months later. We moved back to London when I was six, but I have vivid memories of those first years.

My Father used to host radio shows and we always had the radio on. I was raised on 1950’s and 1960’s pop…….Heaven. I think that was when I began singing. It just seemed natural. In retrospect, I think my parents were the golden couple of theatre and radio in Durban.They also performed in radio plays. We have many newspaper articles about them. I’ve never really thought about that until just now. They had many theatrical friends and took us to all the parties where there was music, swimming, warm nights with hanging lanterns in the garden.

But I digress. My Father’s crazy sense of humour …wonderful. Silly voices, silly walks, silly languages. He could have you in stitches just walking along the pavement, or eating breakfast. He had charisma. He would walk into a room and there was a magic. That lasted.

MW : How do you think you might have fared on your Father’s famous quiz show, ‘Blockbusters'?

NN : Oh dear!. I’d have been ok on the arts questions and, strangely enough, biology but maths, politics and history, no way!

MW : Didn't you sit in on many of your Fathers late night radio shows? Tell me about those times, and any thoughts on the recent cutbacks at BBC Radio 2 equating to no live radio shows overnights...

NN : Oh yes! I was so lucky. I went to TV studios and up in a helicopter for LBC News, all with my Father. Radio was his first love. When he did ‘Late Night Extra’…which I think was Radio’s One and Two together (on a Monday night) he would tell us who he was going to interview ; if it was a scrummy actor, or pop singer, Ros and I would beg him to be able to go. It was a huge treat as the show went on until, I think midnight!! Well, this must have been in the holidays that it happened ….and it was all live, which, of course, gave it that extra frisson.

I’m afraid I haven’t kept up with the situation today but are you saying that there are no live BBC radio shows overnight anymore? How sad. There used to be such a magic with night-time radio. Luxembourg and Caroline under the bed covers!!

MW : Your sister, Ros, featured (as you did early on) in Toto Coelo. You were in the charts, solo, with ‘Made In Japan’ at the very same time as ‘I Eat Cannibals’. Tell me about that successful period and any sibling rivalry?! Also, why do you think their follow-up, ‘Dracula's Tango’, fared less well on the UK charts?

NN : Isn’t it odd? Toto Coelo could have been as successful as The Spice Girls. They were great to look at, had great dance routines, fab fashion sense, ….I got us to dress up in bin liners!!. They had really good voices too, and very strong songs. I think it must have been marketing.

Being in that group was wonderful. We worked really hard with singing, recording, dance routines and then performing in loads of venues. It was through being in Toto Coelo that EMI saw me perform and offered me my world wide contract. I couldn’t not…it was a dream…and the other girls understood that. Then they found Anita to replace me. All good. It was strange the way Ros and I were both in the charts at the same time. Because of that, there couldn’t really be any sibling rivalry, and Toto Coelo reached a much higher position : )

‘No, No, No’ was my second single with EMI. It charted in the UK at number 62, I think!! However, it was number 3 in Portugal, and quite high in a lot of Europe. ‘Made In Japan’ never charted in this country. By far the stronger song, in my opinion!

MW : You have moved from Devon to Oxfordshire. Why was that, how was the move?

NN : At the time I was longing to get back to North London, which I consider home. Hampstead in particular. My then partner didn’t like the idea - being raised in Oxfordshire originally - so we compromised.

I’m a Buddhist…we don’t compromise!! : )

That was 3 years ago.Things have changed. I shall be moving home!

MW : What do you like seeing and doing in Oxfordshire?

NN :  Oxford is a wonderful City and I’m privileged to be within walking distance of all the theatres and museums . The architecture is wonderful and then, still within walking distance are fields, farms, boats on the river and cosy village pubs.

MW : You enjoy art and the drama of theatre, what exhibitions and plays have you visited/participated in recently...?

NN : Oh, I love art, theatre, film and song. I’ve seen too many plays and films to mention. I did, however, go to three concerts last summer. Carole King, Stevie Wonder and Burt Bacharach. Oh joy!!

I participated in quite a few solo art exhibitions in Devon, showing my large abstracts. Then this year I was chosen to exhibit in the Oxford International Art Fair.

That was great to be amongst so many diverse artists. To be able to see your customers and what they take home was thrilling. Most of my sales have been made without me there.That’s what it’s always about for me….having a wonderful time creating and seeing people benefit from that creativity.

MW : How 'European' are you in your outlook? In what ways does this reflect in your lifestyle and opinions?

NN : Gosh!, I’ve never thought about it…especially the “outlook”!! I was born in South Africa, to English parents…but that's nothing to do with “outlook”. I’ve just looked the word up…apart from :- “view from window”, or, “one’s general view of life”, when you refer to Europe , it seems to mean, “the deteriorating economic outlook”. Well, you have the wrong person there!! I don’t go for negativity, so I don’t make a point of watching the news, or complaining about people, and certainly not politics.

On the other hand , I love different countries, European or not. I have worked in quite a few. Different cultures, cuisines, dress, landscapes, history, geography, weather, people, opinions. I celebrate Individualism. Peaceful, respected differences give the world colour and excitement. I also celebrate Independence, and have never been good at doing what I’m told…I let that go when I left home at eighteen!! Perhaps you can draw your own conclusions from that as to where I stand politically re Europe!! : )

MW : To date, what’s your biggest regret? ...your best decision?

NN : ’Tis a cliche but I can’t think of anything that I would do differently in my life. I think my terrible shyness, when younger, did hold me back but I can’t regret that, as that was me and I’m not going to regret being me!!!

My best decision?... without a doubt, marrying my Husband, the love of my life. My Parents and others were against it because of the age gap (I was eighteen when we met) and although living apart, Ken was still married. All my dreams came true when I met that man.

He was my Husband, Producer, Co-writer, Best Friend and Father to my four boys, Ken Gibson (Kingbones) died a couple of years ago. I haven’t written a song since. I will, in time.

MW : Tell me about your new music and new art...

NN : I’m in the process of moving back to London, so much is on hold until then. I haven’t written a song since Ken died, but recently I’ve been itching to write a new album. Just the thought excites me…..as does painting. I’ve always been an artist, since I was a child. Painting, writing….they both take me to a higher dimension . Again, once I move house, I shall be visiting that place frequently.

MW : What are your plans, personally and professionally, for 2018?

NN : My plans for next year are exciting. I’ve just started acting again after years of not! I now have an agent and have just spent the summer on a film. I’m loving it, so much more of all that. Then there’s the new album and more painting……and, once I’m back in London, I’m going to get a little band together and do some shows. One of my Son’s is just finishing the new web site, (it’s not been cared for recently, sorry !!) so all will be revealed there. As always www.nancynova.com

© Mark Watkins / September 2017

[itsworn]

Patina Doesn’t Begin to Describe the Finish on this Barn-Find 1932 Ford 5-Window Coupe

Buried Treasure. Some say both patience and persistence are virtues. That must make me a really virtuous person, since plenty of both were needed to acquire this ’32 Ford from Sam Gonzales. I first met him in late 2007, when I lived in Fresno, California. I was driving around Coarsegold—an old, small mining town about 50 miles north of Fresno—on the way to Yosemite. As usual, I was rubbernecking, being nosey as to what old cars I might find (having restored a number of them over the years). When I drove past Sam’s ranch, I noticed quite a few cool old cars sitting there.

Well, of course, I stopped to ask if any of them were for sale. It was kind of a “maybe” as to if he would sell anything, let alone for how much. I told him I was really looking for an old ’30s coupe or something. We probably talked for at least another half hour about cars, the organic tomatoes he grows, his animals, and so on, when suddenly he blurted out, “I have a coupe.”

“What, you have a coupe?” I inquired, suddenly feeling very curious. “What kind of coupe?”

“A ’32 Ford,” he proudly stated. I thought I must’ve heard him wrong, but then he asked if I’d like to see it. (Ya think?!) I followed him back to an outbuilding behind his house. Peering inside, I could see a complete, original ’50 Cadillac just inside the doorway and the front of a ’39 Chevy to the back in the dark.

When I stepped inside, there it was, tucked back between the front outside wall and the ’39, partially covered with stuff, a very dusty, full-fendered ’32 Ford five-window coupe. I couldn’t believe it. Sam was nice enough to let me look it over and even take a few pictures.

Well, in between asking if he’d be willing to let it go to a good home and not really getting a definite yes or no, he told me the history of his coupe.

Sam worked after school on neighboring farms to make the $25-a-week payments on the coupe to Baskin’s Used Cars in Fresno. This firm was owned and operated by the grandfather of well-known ’32 Ford collector and Pandragger car club member, Dick Baskin.

The coupe was originally traded in by a couple of Fresno State College students toward their purchase of a ’36 Ford. Sam bought the coupe on layaway in 1950 at the age of 17 for the grand sum of $150. While attending Washington High School in the Fresno County town of Easton, Sam added smaller headlights, Pontiac taillights, leaded in the top of the grille shell, covered the roof insert with sheetmetal and screws, and repainted the then-blue coupe brown in his auto shop class.

Sometime later it was painted red, then maybe a fourth unknown color, but it’s hard to tell. Sam replaced the original four-cylinder engine with a flathead V8 backed by a later trans. He also added ’40 Ford juice brakes and lowered the car with longer shackles and a heated front spring.

To dress it up further, he fitted a ’46 Mercury steering wheel, plus whitewall tires and chrome reverse rear wheels using the classic combination of Ford centers and wide Buick/Cadillac hoops. The Inglewood whitewall cheater slicks it wears now were added sometime around the mid-1960s.

Sam drove the coupe during and after high school, and along with some of his buddies, started the original Fresno-area Midnighters Car Club in 1953. Sam’s two younger brothers both drove the coupe to school when Sam went away for the Korean War in the mid-1950s. The coupe spent time sitting parked in and out of a barn on his father’s Fresno farm, before going to Sam’s new north Fresno home in the early 1960s. Then it finally came to rest on Sam’s Coarsegold ranch and was last registered in 1967.

At first sight, I really wanted the coupe, but Sam was pretty reluctant to let it go, mainly, I think, because it was his first car and he was still kind of attached to it. But I kept in touch, and over the next several years, Sam endured the deaths of some cherished pets, his second wife, and both of his brothers. I occasionally drove up to visit him, or to just buy some of his delicious organic tomatoes he’s so well known for.

Sam’s a really nice man and has a lot of interesting stories of his life’s experiences, so sometimes we would just sit out on his front porch and talk, without even bringing up the coupe. Sam told me about being in the Army, stationed in Germany during the Korean War. That’s where he met and married his first wife, Erika.

When they met, she was employed at the Porsche factory. Being fluent in both German and English, she was in charge of the mail department, working as a secretary directly with Ferdinand Porsche. Her father was employed there at the same time as a test driver. The other drivers would often take her along on some seriously fast test drives—with Ferdinand’s OK, of course.

When they married, the Porsche factory gave Sam a metal toy replica of a red 356 Speedster that he still has. Sam’s new wife loved Porsches so much, he bought her a 356 coupe a couple of years after returning back to the States in the late 1950s.

Sam has always been a car guy, and he liked to collect the old ones. He told me about going to his parents’ farm after getting back from Germany and asking his dad, “Where’s all my cars?”

Well, turns out that his dad said his mom and sister were getting tired of them being there, so when a junkman came around asking for any junk he could haul away, Sam’s dad told him, “There’s some old cars out back you can take. Just don’t touch the ’32 Ford coupe.” The junkman got Sam’s ’33 Ford coupe, ’38 Chevy sedan, ’27 Chrysler, and a few more. No wonder he was reluctant to let go of his ’32!

After I visited Sam many times, over about seven years, he finally agreed to sell his coupe. But then it took another year and a half or so until he gave me an idea of what he wanted for it. Once he did, I gave him a deposit in mid-2016, and then my brother Don and I went up and bought it a few months later.

As the current caretakers of the coupe we now call “Sammy,” our plans are to restore the wiring, engine, chassis, drivetrain, glass, wheels, and tires. We’ll also have the interior done in a period-correct tuck-’n’-roll and give the body a thorough cleaning. Our goal is to keep it as close to “as-is” condition as possible, and drive it.

Looking back on the entire experience, it wasn’t just about uncovering “coarse” buried treasure. As much I enjoyed coming across a rare barn find, and meeting a guy who appreciates a special old car, even more important was that he was willing to pass it on to me, knowing that I’ll take good care of it. That’s as good as gold.

While this rusty, dusty ’32 Ford was found in an outbuilding of a ranch in the aptly named burg of Coarsegold, California, we were able to locate a suitable barn in SoCal to capture the feel of the initial discovery. The structure, owned by Marianna Pilario (and which caretaker Gloria DeMintand graciously allowed us to use for the shoot), is actually much older, dating back to the 1890s. And it might not still be standing by the time this issue appears.

While serving in the Army in Germany, Sam met Erika and they were married in 1958, when this shot was taken with his Ford. Turns out she was a car enthusiast as well, having worked for Ferdinand Porsche as a secretary.

Even though Sam’s sister Julia was willing to pose with Sam’s coupe in 1957, she later helped her mom dispose of several cars in his collection while he was serving in the Army.

Replacing the original four-banger is a Ford 8BA flathead V8. It was bored to 3-5/16 inches and fitted with a Mercury 4-inch crank, bringing the displacement from 221 to 276 cubes. There’s an Isky cam in the flattie as well.

The carbs are Holley 94s on an Edelbrock three-pot intake. The Coleman brothers plan to clean up and rebuild everything on the powerplant and get it running again.

The exhaust headers are Belond-type center-dump.

The exhaust header on the driver side had to be tweaked a bit to make room for the steering shaft. The system includes an original ’32 Ford steering box and draglink fitted with a 1950s aftermarket steering arm.

Not much is left of the standard interior. The steering wheel’s from a ’46 Mercury and the ashtray is an old aftermarket piece, but the steering column is original.

The cushion on the bench seat was rotted out, so it was replaced with fresh foam and covered with a plaid blanket for now. Tuck-’n’-roll will follow later on.

It’s an original ’32 Ford instrument panel but missing the gauges.

Here’s what happens when you leave a car sitting idle for decades in an outbuilding: A variety of vermin take up lodging in the nooks and crannies. These nests were from mud dauber wasps.

The floorboards had to be fitted with a new wooden panels so the car could be moved around safely.

The exposed roof shows the wooden cross beams and circular block for holding the dome light.

The original cloth roof insert was replaced with a steel panel, screwed into the body.

The beam axle is a heavy ’32 unit, and the suspension was lowered by heat-treating and de-arching the springs. Other changes include ’40 Ford spindles and juice brakes.

The original late ’32 Ford rear axle also has ’40 Ford juice brakes.

The chrome reverse rear wheels are wrapped with Inglewood 820-15 cheater slicks.

The top of the grille shell was leaded to smooth it out after removing the emblem.

Taillights were replaced with ’49 Pontiac units, a common modification back in the day.

The Coleman brothers’ father was a hot rodder with a ’33 Ford three-window coupe. He was the president of a car club he and some of his friends started in 1955 called Camshafters. The club is long gone, and he passed away years ago. As a tribute to him, they put his old club plaque on the coupe.

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