#oak school of motoring

[oakdrivingschoolcouk]

Driving Crash Course in UK

Introduction:

Embarking on the journey to become a skilled and confident driver is an exciting venture. For those eager to hit the road swiftly and master the art of driving, Oak Driving School proudly presents its comprehensive "Driving Crash Course." Whether you're in Airdrie, Bellshill, Blantyre, Bothwell, or the surrounding areas, our intensive program is designed to accelerate your learning and provide you with the skills needed to navigate the roads with confidence.

Fast-Track to Confidence Oak Driving School’s Crash Course Program

Are you ready to transform from a novice driver to a confident road navigator in the shortest time possible? Oak Driving School’s Crash Course is your ticket to accelerated learning. Our program is meticulously designed to cover all the essential aspects of driving, ensuring that you not only meet but exceed the requirements for safe and responsible driving.

Mastering the Road Quickly

Located in Airdrie and serving the surrounding areas, Oak Driving School is committed to providing a crash course that goes beyond the basics. Our experienced instructors tailor the program to the unique challenges of Airdrie, ensuring you are well-prepared for all types of roads and traffic situations.

Drive to Success

In Bellshill and neighboring regions, Oak Driving School stands out as the go-to choice for those seeking a crash course that combines efficiency with excellence. Our program is structured to instill not just the skills necessary to pass a test but the confidence to navigate Bellshill's diverse road scenarios effortlessly.

Crash Course Excellence Bothwell's Choice for Rapid Driving Skills

Residents of Bothwell, rejoice! Oak Driving School’s Crash Course is tailored to meet the unique needs of Bothwell's aspiring drivers. Our instructors bring a wealth of experience, ensuring that you gain the skills required to navigate Bothwell’s roads with ease. Let's break down the components of driving crash course

Crash Course Excellence:

This phrase emphasizes the high quality and effectiveness of the crash course offered by Oak Driving School. It suggests that the program goes beyond the basics, providing a comprehensive and excellent learning experience.

Bothwell's Choice:

This part of the heading communicates that Oak Driving School's crash course is the preferred option for individuals in Bothwell who are seeking a driving program. It implies that the school has earned a reputation for delivering top-notch training in the local community.

For Rapid Driving Skills:

This portion highlights a key benefit of the crash course—rapid skill development. It suggests that participants in the program can expect to quickly acquire the essential driving skills needed to navigate Bothwell's roads with confidence.

Blantyre's Premier Driving Crash Course Experience with Oak Driving School

In Blantyre, where the roads vary from bustling city streets to quieter suburban areas, Oak Driving School offers a premier crash course experience. Our instructors are well-versed in the intricacies of Blantyre’s road networks, providing you with a well-rounded education.

Quick and Effective

For those in Aidrie seeking a quick and effective path to obtaining a driver's license, Oak Driving School's Crash Course is the solution. Our program is designed to efficiently cover all necessary skills and knowledge, ensuring you're ready for the road ahead.

Bothwell's Accelerated Learning

Accelerate your learning in Bothwell with Oak Driving School’s Crash Course. Our curriculum is structured to optimize your time and efforts, providing a thorough education that goes beyond the basics.

Unlock Your Driving Potential

Unlock your driving potential with Oak Driving School’s Crash Course approach. Our instructors are dedicated to helping you not only pass your driving test but become a confident and skilled driver, ready for any road challenge.

FAQs:

Q1: How long is the Oak Driving School Crash Course?

A:  The crash course's length varies, but it's usually designed to be finished in a short amount of time—a few days to a few weeks.

Q2: Is the crash course suitable for beginners?

A: Yes, our crash course is suitable for beginners and individuals with some driving experience who want to enhance their skills quickly.

Q3: What is the pass rate for Oak Driving School’s Crash Course?

A: Our pass rate is high, thanks to our focused curriculum and experienced instructors. However, individual success depends on factors such as practice and dedication.

Q4: Can I choose specific areas to focus on during the crash course?

A: Yes, our instructors tailor the crash course to address your specific needs and concerns, ensuring a personalized and effective learning experience.

Conclusion:

The "Driving Crash Course" at Oak Driving School is a transformative event that teaches pupils how to drive with assurance and competence. Regardless of whether you're in Bellshill, Blantyre, Bothwell, Airdrie, or the surrounding areas, our crash course is customized to meet your unique needs. Join us and accelerate your path to driving success with Oak Driving School.

[lindabrooksschoolofmotoring]

Automatic Driving Lessons in Blackburn, Darwen, Great Harwood and Rishton?

Introduction:

Being how to drive is a necessary life skill, and as automated cars become more and more popular, automatic driving courses are becoming more and more in demand. As a respected driving school like Linda Brooks School Of Motoring serving the UK's Blackburn, Darwen, Rishton, and Great Harwood, we understand the special requirements of students and the advantages of automatic driving classes. The benefits of automatic driving lessons, the significance of selecting a trustworthy instructor, and how our extensive automatic driving programme may help you develop as a confident and experienced driver are all covered in this article.

Why Choose Automatic Driving Lessons?

Automatic cars have gained popularity due to their user-friendly nature, especially for beginners. Choosing automatic driving lessons offers several advantages, including:

1.1. Simplified Gear Shifting:

In automatic vehicles, there's no need to worry about gear changes, allowing learners to focus on other aspects of driving, such as road awareness and safe maneuvering.

1.2. Reduced Learning Time:

Learning to drive in an automatic car can be quicker than in a manual car, as it eliminates the complexities of clutch control and gear shifting.

1.3. Easier Traffic Navigation:

Automatic vehicles can make driving in heavy traffic or stop-and-go situations more manageable, reducing stress for learners.

The Importance of a Reliable Driving Instructor

Choosing the right driving instructor is crucial for a successful learning experience. Here's why you should entrust us with your automatic driving lessons:

2.1. Extensive Experience:

With years of experience, we have honed our teaching techniques to cater to learners of all abilities, ensuring each student receives personalized attention.

2.2. In-depth Local Knowledge:

As local driving instructors in Blackburn, Darwen, Rishton, and Great Harwood, we understand the unique road conditions and challenges learners may face in the area.

2.3. Patient and Supportive Approach:

We believe that every learner is different, and we adopt a patient and supportive approach to help students build confidence behind the wheel.

2.4. Up-to-Date Teaching Methods:

Our driving lessons incorporate the latest teaching methods, ensuring learners receive relevant and practical instruction.

The Comprehensive Automatic Driving Program

Our automated driving programme is meant to provide students the abilities and information they need to drive safely and confidently. What the programme comprises is as follows:

3.1. Introduction to the Vehicle:

We start with a comprehensive introduction to the automatic vehicle, familiarizing learners with the controls and safety features.

3.2. Road Safety and Awareness:

Our first priority is safety. We go through traffic laws, defensive driving methods, and how to recognise and deal with potential problems.

3.3. Maneuvering and Parking:

Learners gain proficiency in essential maneuvers, including parallel parking, three-point turns, and reverse parking.

3.4. Navigating Roundabouts and Junctions:

Roundabouts and junctions can be challenging for learners. Our program includes specialized training to navigate these areas confidently.

3.5. Motorway Driving (where applicable):

For learners preparing to drive on motorways, we offer guidance on safe motorway practices and building confidence at higher speeds.

3.6. Mock Tests and Exam Preparation:

We administer simulated driving exams to learners to ensure they are adequately prepared for the driving test, offering helpful feedback and building confidence.

Answers to Frequently Asked Questions

Is learning to operate an automated vehicle easier than learning to operate one with a manual gearbox?

Yes, many people believe that operating an automated vehicle is simpler than one that requires manual control. Manual gear changes are no longer necessary in automatic vehicles, freeing up the driver-training population to concentrate on other elements of safe manoeuvring and traffic awareness. For beginners, this may result in a shorter learning curve and less stress.

Can anyone take automated driving lessons?

Automatic driving classes are appropriate for students of all skill levels, yes. Our automated driving programme is made to meet your specific needs, whether you are a total novice or have some prior driving experience.

After gaining experience in an automatic vehicle, may I transfer to a manual one?

Yes, new drivers are only permitted to operate automatic cars after passing their driving test in one. You would need to take additional driving lessons and pass your driving test in a manual car if you wanted to operate one. However, many students discover that taking driving lessons in an automatic vehicle is a terrific way to build confidence before switching to a manual vehicle.

How many driving lessons will I need to develop my confidence?

Depending on their learning style and prior driving experience, each person will require a different amount of driving lessons. After a few lessons, some students could feel secure, while others might need more practise.

Conclusion:

Our comprehensive programme and qualified instructors are available to assist you in achieving your driving objectives whether you're searching for automatic driving lessons in Blackburn, Darwen, Rishton, or Great Harwood. Our focus on safety, individualised coaching, and cutting-edge teaching techniques guarantee that you'll be well-equipped to travel the roads with assurance. Enrol in our automated driving courses right away to take the first step towards mastering the wheel!

[himbocoups]

˗ˋˏ Between Glitz and Glamour ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only

synopsis: love collects like the number of pearls on a string – scintillant under the shining spotlight, two ends clasped together to make one. however, one unforeseen tug can scatter the pearls, making them roll, bounce, and clack against the illegally sticky floors of the speakeasy. but one can’t help but chase the jewels, especially the one carved in the shape of lee jihoon.

member: lee jihoon

genre: angst, drama, romance, 1920s period piece | smut

tags: cursing, drunk characters, emotional constipation, food/drinks, jealousy, opposites attract, smoking, s2l // sax, settlements, and speakeasies | blindfold play, fingering, lap dances, mirror sex, oral, overstim, pet names (baby, daddy, whore...), pnv, pussy slapping, squirting...

wc: 15k

beta reader reviews: "OKAY DADDY I'M NOT GOING TO FIGHT YOU" - @multi-kpop-fanfics // "GODDDD I can't do this" - @heartkyeom // "HAHAHHAHAA FUCK IM IN TROUBLE" - @playmetheclassics

a/n: hihi you may see some recognizable characters sprinkled throughout the fic (hint @onlymingyus's duo). and giving a hugehugehuge thank you to my beta readers. this is a big piece I've been writing for months so thank you so much <33 chapters are separated and named by seasons for easy navigation - nu ♡

himbocoups's masterlist

one - spring

Sleek oiled hair with expensive Brilliantine and the tiny stray strand that falls from the slick that brushes against his forehead, the man’s Adam’s apple bobs and lowers as the man swallows another sip of his Manhattan. An amber drop seeps from his lips, seesawing on the rim of the stemmed cocktail glass he holds steady against his lips before racing downwards against the outside of the glass. He sets his drink on the sticky Oak tabletop before the drop of liquid can collect on his finger, never once breaking eye contact with his spoil for the night.

Dark brown eyes quickly flick from the woman’s eyes to his pant leg that rests against her inner heel, brushing against the open skin like a curtain as she unconsciously shifts her balance to her tiny kitten heel. She traces a manicured finger over his exposed collarbone, letting her hand glide downwards until it rests on his chest. Dorothy, she reminds him of her name, like the one from the novel. But he hasn’t read a novel since grade school, let alone hold one in his hand. He deceivingly nods like he understands her reference. Truthfully, he can’t even hear her over the live band and tonight’s drunk rowdy crowd in his speakeasy.

The Diamond Glass – an ironic name given the speakeasy’s connotations. Hidden in plain sight in the heart of the city, the speakeasy isn’t as transparent as the name suggests. And Lee Jihoon – as cunning as his cat-like features – operates his mom and pop grocery store front during the day and his speakeasy during the night, strictly and smoothly running his businesses like the automated belts in Ford’s motor car factories. A mastermind with too much money to blow and a throttle of criminal cohorts he calls his family, the man can’t help but let loose once in a while, especially when it comes to taking someone new home every so often.

And Dorothy, beautiful feathered brooch-wearing Dorothy with big brown eyes and arched eyebrows, is someone who Jihoon is willing to take home…or even in the kitchen pantry if he kicks the cooks out. But a disapproving look from his younger sister from across the bar is enough to give him second thoughts about taking her old classmate from high school home or anywhere, really. He clears his throat, two rough coughs with his hand brought up to his mouth, and peers at the woman in front of him. She doesn’t seem phased by the little break in their interaction and moves in to leave him a tiny product-stained peck along his jawline.

This action alone is enough to have him immediately forget about his sister’s disapproving looks and pull the lady into him by her waist, a tiny oop emitting from her matte-colored lips.

“Darling,” The word rolls smoothly off the tip of his tongue, landing softly against her cheek.

Before he can make another move on Dorothy, he feels a soft tap against the outside of his heel. And before he can even make the decision to ignore the tap, he hears the ever-so-familiar sound of shattering glass against his beloved speakeasy floors from across the room. The figure of a darting bouncer toward the center of the crowd and the manager, Seungcheol, following closely behind is enough for Jihoon to excuse himself from the self-proclaimed novel character Dorothy to attend to a crowd transforming into the shape of a circle.

He sees her for the first time in his life with her dirtied flimsy party dress, and the skirt under her knees, as she reaches around blindly for something probably important to her. There are a few clutched in her right hand, opalescent pearls, probably fake; her other hand is limp, tucked against her waist as if she doesn’t want anybody to notice her injury. He thinks if he turns his head back to Dorothy, he would be able to become ignorant of the fact that there’s shattered glass near the back of her heels, the same glass that he brought in the other day.

An entire five cents gone, just like that. He is forced to think, adding a note to his mental managerial book.

Mingyu probably kicked the man out, he hears a patron say to another person who asked. The man tried absinthe for the first time. Now he’s absent before the pianist can perform his set. Poor lady…poor lonely lady with her fine pearls. Heard that was the only drink she was clutching onto the whole night before the man knocked her over. Never seen her around before.

“Hey.” Seungcheol taps his boss’s shoulder, the other hand pinching the bridge of his nose in an act of annoyance. “Take her to get patched up.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he scowls. “Manage your patrons better.”

Still, he shuffles over to his customer and lifts her up by the waist, heaving her onto the nearest bar counter, probably separating two people from their conversation. He doesn’t care if they complain, for all he cares, they already paid for their drinks.

“You didn’t have to set me on the counter,” she says while fiddling with the fabric of her dress, her eyes never looking down to meet his. “Just a scratch on my hand, that’s all.”

Someone passes him a bag of ice wrapped in a dishcloth. The bartender probably, she remembers. She remembered him complaining in passing about how it gets so rowdy in this speakeasy, yet they can never find the time to restock their simplest first aid supplies. Something about how the big boss is stingy, but he can’t complain because he’s getting paid well.

The palm which holds her injured hand is warm and a little rough around the tiny calluses, a stark contrast to the cold ice which hits her outer hand and the soft and regularly washed dishcloth which creates a nice barrier to stop the coldness from stinging.

“The fabric isn’t flimsy, you know. It just looks that way because of how I draped it.” The comment comes out of her mouth compulsively, as if she needed to somehow bring up the topic in case he was staying silent because he was silently judging her getup. She can’t read him well, not under the lights and not even when his eyes flick to every other woman except for her. “I can ice it myself.”

“Nonsense.” He is curt with his words. “This shouldn’t have happened to you. My workers should’ve been better at watching out for rowdy customers. Please accept my apology on their behalf. Write down your bank account number, and I’ll pay for your dry-cleaning and for a new string of pearls.”

She thinks that maybe he isn’t as stingy as Joshua says or alternatively, maybe he can say those things simply because he’s wealthy. Either way, Lee Jihoon is just as handsome as the crowd says. It would be such a loss if she didn’t use this chance to strike up a conversation with him. For all that matters, he would be onto the next gal the moment he’s finished taking care of her.  

“Take me on a date,” she squeaks, heart pounding like footsteps on the pavement. “The pearls are fake, an-and I can clean the dress myself.”

“I don’t do dates, princess.”

“Then a non-date? With me.” This time, there is a bit more confidence in her tone. But it isn’t enough to shake him.

“Look.” He sighs and drops the melting ice bag onto the counter near her thigh. “You look like you’ve never stepped into a speakeasy before. You probably came here on a dare with one of your girlfriends from grade school, talking about how you need to step out of your comfort zone a little more and is now all balled up. I’m a criminal – dames like you should never be stuck on my bunch.”

“Then I’m a criminal for coming here voluntarily. Aren’t I?”

two - summer

Standing ovation.

He didn’t even know that a standing ovation could happen at a community theatre performance, but here he is, standing on the risers after the final Summer show, waiting for the second lead to finish talking to an important-looking man in fine business attire.

In his arms is a beautiful assembly of white and purple, a small handwritten card from the heart tucked in the middle of it all. This is the first time he attended a musical, and this is the first time he willingly attended anything for anybody outside of his family. Now he’s worried his sweaty palms left damp marks against the brown paper packaging of the bouquet he shopped for with his sister last night.

A couple of children’s costumes push against his backside while they run down the risers, but he doesn’t care. His eyes are trained on her – a light brown wig done in a giant updo with a giant white feathered attachment stuck at the very top and rosy floral clips trailing down the sides. Her stage makeup sparkles under the hot stage lights, a scintillant glow across the apples of her cheeks. She quickly maneuvers her flowers to one arm so she can reach her free hand out to receive the man’s business card. She thanks him as he walks away, leaving her in the middle of the stage, giggly and filled with glee. With brilliant white teeth and lips stretched thin, she practically bounces in her spot until she pauses for a minute, turning around to look for something or someone so important that she would rather share her happiness with them.

Maybe there is a part of him that wants to call out for her, for her to notice him then, and for her to notice him when he was in the crowd. He wants to convince himself that it shouldn’t be him who she’s looking for. But it’s not like Lee Jihoon would ever admit his feelings, not even months after spending time now and then with the tailoress who crawled on the dirty and sticky speakeasy floor to pick up her fake pearls.

God, her and her pearls, he thinks. There was no way he could ever end up with someone like her, practically floating around with her head in the clouds, dreaming about the day she would become a star. Too trusting of others, too gullible, too into him – he wonders why he would even allow himself to be cajoled into attending a stupid production by someone as idiosyncratic as her.

The tight grip around the metal rail loosens when she makes eye contact with him, eyes widening like her smile. And as vague as it sounds, it makes him feel lighter. Better even.

Noticing her friends crowd around her, he mouths “hallway” to her and slips into the darkness. He thinks it’s in his best interest if he doesn’t check to see if her eyes stayed trained on him when he left his place on the risers.

It’s not long until someone grabs his wrist guiding him along the hallway, past the green room, past the rest of the cast. Left behind in her wake is a trail of African Orange Flowers, Amalfi Lemon and Orange, and the powdery floral scent of the powder she uses to refresh her clothes. Coty’s Cyphre, the one she bought back in ’17 – her only perfume that she uses for special events. The liquid in the whimsical rectangular glass bottle that sits on top of her dresser is starting to turn a light amber hue, but she insists on saving each drop. It’s most condensed on the hand pulling his wrist, the same hand that slips downwards, interlocking both hands in a magnetic pull.

Finally seeing her up close, her big doe eyes staring at him and the meticulously swept-on stage makeup, he forgets he has flowers for her in his hands. He snaps out of his trance when he hears the soft muted crinkling of the brown paper packaging being removed from his arms. She stands in front of him in her empty dressing room, holding the bouquet like a newborn, and lowering her head to smell the flowers – eyes closed to breathe in the sweet floral scent deeply with a sigh.

“I uhh.” He quickly brings his right fist up to his mouth and clears his throat. “I liked the performance. It was nice.” He can’t look her in the eye – doesn’t even know what to say especially now that her dress’s strap slipped off her shoulder, bringing her collarbone into view. She must think he’s the daftest person in the world, and he almost crumbles at the thought of her seeing him through his hubris.

“What about me?” She blinks. Dropping her flowers on the counter where the wood meets a long wall of mirrors, she tests the waters by slowly crossing his threshold. One buttermilk-colored gloved hand glazes his tweed vest, but of course, she can never elicit a reaction from him. “What did you think about me?” She asks him, palm now fully against his vest.

If it were physically possible, Jihoon stutters without muttering a word – caught red-handed by the woman in front of him. Truth be told, he wasn’t really paying attention to the musical. Falling asleep during the last half of the first act and waking up when the orchestra started the entr’acte, he knew he should’ve stayed home after an especially rowdy night at the Diamond Glass. And he would have if it weren’t for his sister, who quite literally dragged him out of bed and kicked him to the curb.

I really don’t get why she likes you even though you’ve been dragging her along for around two months. You don’t even seem that interested in her, she told her older brother. So either end the situationship or make it a relationship. But after the musical! So don’t you dare come back until tomorrow morning…Seokmin’s coming over. 

But what does he think about her? What does he think about the woman in the bouncy polka-dot dress whose entire being is too utterly obsessed with him, the one who only talks about her dreams while floating on her imaginary clouds, the one who buys cheap costume jewelry whenever she can hoping one day she would trade her precious pearl necklace for a new one? The one whose lips he has to cover while in bed because her vocal cords aren’t the only things that he’s plugging.

Simply put, he thinks her to be annoying. They have almost nothing in common. He cannot stand the fact that she’s so dizzyingly ditzy that she cannot go a day without dreaming or talking about the glitz and glamour of her potential stardom, living in a constant state of hypotheticals. She somehow latched onto his side like a cat’s claw in a woolen sweater or a parasite who is too cheerful and optimistic even on bad days. Yet, despite everything, he doesn’t mind having her by his side.

“Come on Hoonie,” she whines. “Tell me.”

God, how he hates that nickname. Usually, he would tell her off for using that nickname but she’s a couple of centimeters away from completely pressing herself against his frontside, and the only thing he can concentrate on is definitely not her performance.

But it doesn’t matter anyway. While a celebration happens on the main stage, in an empty dressing room, two people try to devour each other like it is the last time they would ever meet. A few fallen stray petals crumple under the sole of his shoe as he rubs himself between her closed legs. Groaning as he feels her squeeze him between her bare thighs, sliding with ease as her warm juices lubricate his naked organ, he covers her mouth from behind as he slowly pushes himself into her.

And everything feels warm, hot – clothed bodies pressed against each other, the row of bright lights above the wall of vanity mirrors, her breath as she moans into his large palm over her mouth, and her spongy inside that often invites him in secret. The habitually voluble woman is reduced to nothing under his touch and tries to refrain from audibly moaning, knowing that she would be punished if she were loud.

So she finds something exciting in whimpering into the open air, feeling him twitch inside of her with every mewl that enters his ear as he slowly fucks himself into her. The more high-pitched she gets, the more it arouses him to the point where he completely loses his nonchalant front. The hand which once covered her mouth is now tilting her chin upwards as his other hand grabs her by her waist. And he watches through the mirror how her eyes roll upward as he ruts himself into her, smirking at how she melts against his chest, aching and begging him for more.

That isn’t to say that maybe the thought of how good the reflection of the two of them together looks crossed his mind once or twice. But he pushes the thought aside like the rest of his feelings for her and instead pushes deeper into her, moaning when he feels her convulse around him.

“Ah fuck babe,” she gasps while her knees bend towards each other, palms pressed against the mirror as she recovers from her high.

“Watch your language,” he instinctively mumbles, pushing her forward so that her elbows rest on the vanity. He lifts the hem of her skirt above her ass, bunching the costume fabric in his hand and laying it on top of her back. Her use of his pet name completely slips his mind as he sighs while slipping back inside of her, feeling the tight cushiony cunt squeeze around his cock. Any tighter he might have to fuck her on the floor to stop losing feeling in his legs.

The louder the party is downstairs, the more confident she is in moaning out loud. And the sounds coming from her mouth fuels his lust. His cock feels hard as hell, and he is so close to finishing. A trail of profanities rains from his mouth, praising her, commanding her, and telling her how he feels at this moment. And she smiles that lazy smile reflected in the mirror as she hiccups while the tip of his organ threatens to penetrate more than just her walls.

“Be mine, yeah?” She manages to ask him while he pulls her head back, her fake pearl necklace coming into view.

“You’re asking? Fuck. Okay fu-Jesus. Bend over. M-more for me, baby. More.”

With one easy yank, the brown wig slides off her head and collects in his fist. He thinks nothing of it and drops it on the floor next to a pile of fallen audition flyers, continuing to ram into her from behind, never missing a beat. Jostled around with each hard thrust, each remaining bobby pin that once held her wig in place fall to the floor one after the other.

Plink. Puh-link. Plink. 

The answer to her original question is still left unanswered.

three - summer

“So, when is your girlfriend coming?”

Lee Jihoon looks up from the several small plates of food in front of him to see his younger sister cocking an eyebrow at him before she looks at the spread of food he prepares. Quick to notice the slight pout of her lips and the soft twitch of her eyebrows, he knows a light-hearted complaint is about to come out of her mouth.

“It’s a double date, but you’re only serving us canapés. What do you want me to do? Starve?” She places a hand on her hip in disbelief.

“I never said it was a double date,” he corrects her while swatting one of her hands away from the deviled eggs, never batting an eye. “I only said we are going to taste test new finger foods for the speakeasy.”

“And the girlfriend?” She sneaks a bruschetta from one of the plates when he looks away, dumping the pile of finely diced tomatoes tossed with balsamic vinegar and spices into her mouth before following it with the piece of soggy-crunchy bread she holds. “W- where is sphe?” She asks him with her mouth full, swiping the edge of her mouth with the side of her pointer finger.

“Finishing an audition so she’ll be a bit late,” his tone is as monotonous as ever. He doesn’t pay her any mind, not when he’s stressing over minuscule plates of finger food.

It is a particularly slow Thursday night. The grocery store’s customers start to dwindle as Seokmin helps the remaining customers checkout their items before he can close the shop to restock and sneak his boss’s girlfriend into the speakeasy. And the younger sister who stands in the kitchen behind the speakeasy’s bar can’t help but stare at her older brother who somehow manages to assemble different types of small plates for four people at once. But it’s the fact that no amount of magnesium can fix his almost permanently clenched jaw that she knows something is bothering him.

“Hmm…” She takes his used cutting board and a stack of dirtied plates away from his area to bring to the sink to rinse. “I don’t like it,” she tells him while dropping the stack in the sink, wincing at the crashing sound.

“The bruschetta you stole?” He asks over his shoulder. Albeit, the way his tone angles upwards at the end, a squeak that he tries to hide by clearing his throat, is a clear tell that the quality of the food, or at least something related to tonight, greatly concerns him.

“No. It’s actually really good.” She restacks the dishes in the sink, thinking that it would be better to wash them all at once after dinner. “I was talking about you. Something’s bothering you.”

“You’re bothering me.” He frowns in his spot, bending over to adjust the garnish on one of the plates. “Go bother Seokmin. He’s probably crying while he’s running the grocery store alone without you by his side.”

“He’s a big boy. He can handle it,” she muses, humming while wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

“I’m telling you to climb up your thumb.”

“And I’m telling you that you have girl problems.”

Before he can turn around to confront his sister about minding her own business, two familiar voices enter the speakeasy from the hidden hallway connecting the employee room of the grocery store to the speakeasy’s office. Head perking upwards like a sleeping cat when they hear the familiar clinking of keys on a chain when one unlocks the front door, Lee Jihoon’s entire attitude and disposition seem to shift into the positive. And the sister almost snickers at the sight.

---

Clearly less stressed than before, Lee Jihoon still walks around more reserved than usual. He left the small talk to the others and only chimed in when spoken to. But the one hand that found a home around her waist, on her shoulder, in her hand, said something otherwise. And maybe it’s not a lie when others say that being around your favorite person could make all your worries go away. The way that his tiny fangs come into view when she gushes about her audition, the unnoticeable squeeze he gives her hand when she talks about calling off sick for work in order to practice for the audition, and the blush on top of his already flushed face when she tells the other couple that she couldn’t have done it without him by her side…it did make his worries go away, at least for the time being.

Two hours later, the siblings are once again in the speakeasy’s kitchen, cleaning the used and empty dishes while the other two chat away near the stage where they plan for a duet in the future. There is an empty bottle of homemade red wine left to dry next to the dish rack. He sits by himself on the stool near the sink, holding a half-filled wine glass in one hand, promising to finish off the rest of the bottle by himself before his team comes in to open the speakeasy within the next hour.

“Hey, be honest. What’s eating yo-”

“She told me she loved me this morning.” He cuts off his sister’s question while staring at his sorry expression through the soft reflection against the burgundy-red liquid.

“Oh…OH?” She doubles back.

“I wasn’t able to reciprocate it,” he sighs. “It came out of nowhere.”

There isn’t anywhere to sit so she decides to squat next to him, taking the glass out of his hands so she can finish it for him. Of course, she would be worried about the man who never seemed to be able to keep a relationship or even enter one look so distraught over a quip in his relationship. Finding out it was about the question of love, she can’t help but pry more out of him, never experiencing this kind of talk with her older brother in the past. But when she sees his eyes squint at the hem of her everyday dress draped across the dirty kitchen placemats and him immediately getting up from his stool so she could sit, she knows that he would be fine.  

“What’s next? Do you think you’ll have to break up with her?” She tries to push his buttons.

“No.” He hears the familiar tuning note in the distance, echoing throughout the empty speakeasy. “Maybe I would be able to reciprocate it someday,” he mumbles while scratching the side of his head.

She chugs the rest of the wine, earning a disapproving look from her older brother, and rinses the glass in the sink.

“I think I’ll have my gentleman walk me home now…leave you to work.”

He takes her glass out of the sink and immediately washes it again, not trusting that she could truly clean it in her inebriated state.

“Make sure he gives you his jacket. It’s starting to get chilly outside.”

“How can it be chilly? It’s only the beginning of Summer.”

“Also, don’t walk. Take my breezer keys from my office drawer,” he tells her while she hugs him goodbye. “And tell him to drop her off, yeah? She must be tired.”

“From the audition?”

“Yeah…the audition.”

“Are you sure you don’t love her?” She squeezes his shoulder. “Don’t think too much about it, okay?”

“I-” He looks like he is about to say something but drops the notion. “Get home safe.”

It comes out like a sigh – a dilatory action to avoid her question. 

four - summer

There are only a few ways to command a room in a crowded speakeasy on an especially sweltering hot July Summer night. And only a few can truly get the room to become so quiet that everybody inside can hear conversations outside of the sturdy soundproof walls of the speakeasy.

She stands onstage next to one of the lead singers of the week. Seungkwan, the lead’s name, tries to pry open the newspaper to the right page but struggles to find any grip between the smooth-printed paper and his dry fingertips. The action causes the crowd to groan, but a singular and sharp shh sound emitted from the speakeasy’s owner’s mouth at the back of the crowd causes the entire crowd to acquiesce and grow silent again.

Seungkwan swipes the tip of his pointer finger across his tongue and rubs the wetness against his thumb. The younger man smiles when he finds his grip and immediately flips to the right page, right to the location of the musical advertisement. He shifts his body away from the eager dame, oscillating ball to heel, who is dressed like a patron of the Ritz just for this special occasion. Left pointer finger skimming through the cast members, he skips ahead and heads straight to the ensemble.

From the crowd beneath the stage, one could see the top of the singer’s head, eyebrows, and a pair of eyes right above the top of the newspaper. The man on the stage holds the newspaper to the crowd, showing them the content like a schoolteacher reading to their class.

“Ensemble!” he yells. “And the understudy for the lead!”

The ebullient cheers that follow the announcement fill the speakeasy – a newfound cause for celebration. A regular in this establishment is about to star in a mainstream musical and they are all about to get bragging rights. And the dame whose name is printed on thousands of newspapers stands on stage, quite clearly in shock. Lace-gloved hands covering her mouth and the recovered fake pearl necklace hanging from her neck, she can only allow tears of joy, of jubilation, to fill a reservoir in her eyes. Months of hard work, hours upon hours of practice, sore muscles, and a dream to work toward – there’s a realized catalyst to her belief that nothing that she had worked toward, worked for, and dreamed about had ever gone to waste.

And he, Lee Jihoon, continues to stand in his place at the back of the Diamond Glass, unmoving like the Statue of Liberty. He sees his Ritzy moll under the spotlight, shining, scintillating in all her newfound glory. Where he would usually be focusing on the crowds of men with fat pockets rushing to the bars, he can’t help but keep his eyes on his girlfriend.

His mouth moves on its own. Opening. Tongue touching the back of his front teeth. The last syllable forms a pout. Three words formed without any sound.

The thing is, she sees him. Even from the stage in the front of the room, the only person she can clearly see silently supports her from the back of the crowd. To her, he is, and always will be, her only glowing entity in the pitch dark. And she directs a fabulous smile at him. She knows.  

---

“F-fuck!” Her stomach jolts when she feels his thick fingers exiting her leaking cunt.

“Aww my baby is so vulgar, isn’t she? Wanting to fuck in public while everybody else is getting drunk and celebrating her?”

The owner of the Diamond Glass leans back into the beautiful moss green leather executive chair with the cherry wood elements that his workers gifted him on his past birthday. Spread across his matching cherry wood desk are the gams belonging to the woman the entire speakeasy is celebrating. And the new musical actress shudders at the feeling of her naked and throbbing core against the cold office air while she lies with her back against the desk, dress pulled up and bunched around her breasts. And he smirks in his seat, his left hand moving to his neck to loosen his necktie while his right hand reaches into his desk drawer to draw out a long wooden object. 

“Left or right hand, baby?” He asks her while palming himself in his seat, his zipper already down and his erection dripping with precum.

“L-Left,” she stutters while staring at the ceiling, heart beating fast.

“Left what?” He spreads his thighs a little more, relaxing into his seat while he slowly strokes himself to the fleshy sight in front of his face.

“Daddy,” she chokes, her back arching off the wooden surface, fake pearl necklace clacking against the desk, her wanting to feel anything and to be given anything by the man who sits behind his desk.

He moves the oblong object into his left hand and rubs the precum off his head with the pad of his right thumb. Like a painter branding their work of art, Jihoon marks her soft nub with his precum, smearing it on her as if he is marking his territory. And she moans from his touch, every inch of her body prickling with heat.

Thinking for a couple of seconds while stroking himself with his right hand, he finally decides, “We’re not leaving this room until we see your pretty pussy squirt on daddy. Hold still for me Sweetheart.”

With no time for her to react, he brings the object down on her opening, fast. The slapping sound of the wooden ruler against her fragile clit rings throughout the room – threatening to drown out the sounds of people partying on the other side of the guarded door. The euphonic sound of her squealing, the way her thighs close and immediately open like the whore she is, only edges him more.

He slaps her pussy again, bringing down the makeshift paddle quickly. Then again. And again.

She cries in response, tears leaking down the sides of her face as she calls out to him Daddy, daddy, yes! Daddy – s-shit. Please! More! Use me. Withering in her spot, she feels nothing but the euphoria and the stinging sensation that makes her sex clench, builds her high, and causes her eyes to roll to the back of her head. And he relishes in watching and hearing her positively react, feeling his high build in the palms of his hands.

However, like the businessman he is, he thinks what is in front of him is not enough. So he drags his heavy seat closer to his desk till his face is directly in front of her cunt when he is seated. And he knows that he didn’t take that much time to adjust his seat, but her fingers are already dipping into her sopping cunt without permission – a dainty middle finger slowly and repetitively entering her sex and pulling out while she sighs in relief.

Irritated by her actions, he uses his precious ruler to nudge her hand away from her cunt. He drops his ruler on his desk and immediately, by bringing his empty hand against her cunt and feeling her jolt under his fingers, pulls his hand back to slap her again.

“Whore.”

This single word leaves his mouth, laced with disgust. But it causes her to reach her high, her body jolting as she comes. He uses this moment to put his face against her cunt, burying his tongue in her folds, licking and prodding while his strong hands grab hold of her thighs to steady her while she shakes against the tabletop. He lets himself be buried in her cunt, pushing his nose against her nub and lapping her juices like it’s his only source of water. Teasing her with the tip of his tongue, he kitten licks her cunt until she shakes under his hands and sends a long and flat stripe up her folds.

Overstimulated by him eating her out while she orgasms, by him punishing her by sticking his tongue up her vagina, all she can do is slur her cries – so, so, so entirely intoxicated by him against her sex. And the frail cry turns into a scream when he pulls out his tongue and slaps her one last time – the sharp pain against her bodily exhaustion causes her to squirt, wave after wave, coating his unbuttoned button down and lubricating his open and exposed chest.   

Her high blinds her so much that the can only see the deep red marks his fingers left on the outside of her thighs and the splotchy purple along her inner thighs when she recovers in the morning.

And the poor part-time bouncer, the law student with the circular glasses, can only keep a stoic face as he stands on the other side of the door. Because he knows that if he even reacts, even hints to others why he is guarding the office door, he would suffer a fate a lot worse than being fired from his boss’s precious speakeasy.

five - fall

He arrives home at around two in the morning and finally gets to enter the comfort of his bed at around three. The girlfriend who was lying in bed awake, waiting for her boyfriend to come home, is now completely lost as to why her sweetheart would even start an argument with her saying that she should have gone to bed without him. For months now, all she wanted was communication from someone who loves knowing everything and every single detail about everybody around him, but she can never seem to scratch more than his surface-level answers. And everything she does at that moment, including being awake for him, seems to tick him off even more than it should. And she is frustrated, not knowing what to do or how to confront him.

“You’re upset,” she points out.

“I’m not upset,” he retaliates, his tone a lot harsher than how he meant it to sound.

“You didn’t call me ‘Babe.’ You didn’t greet me when you came home.” She sits up from her side in his bed, the bedsheets falling just below her neckline. She hugs the sheets tightly to her chest. “You’re clearly upset.”

Truth be told, Lee Jihoon is definitely upset. They are in the middle of their first mini-argument, but it is hard to even begin a full-fledged fight when one side is extremely talkative and open about their feelings while the other side is the polar opposite. And the polar opposite in this situation only wants to sleep in his king-sized bed, too tired to even talk to her. Because in his heart, he knows that he would accidentally take his frustrations built from an amalgamation of happenings out on her through his language, and he knows that the only way to avoid that outcome is to avoid her altogether.

Continuing to look at his ceiling, he stubbornly ignores the woman he holds so precious to his heart, thinking that it would be better that way.

“Lee Jihoon,” she says his full name. “Talk to me. Why won’t you talk to me?”

Muscles tense under his blanket when he hears his name, and he stiffens in his place in bed. He can feel her getting more upset with every second he spends ignoring her – but it’s not like she isn’t used to him ignoring her. That���s how their relationship started anyway.

He knows he could just tell her. He knows he doesn’t even need to look her in the eyes to talk to her, to tell her how much of a bad day he has had. Just a couple minutes explaining how he is upset because the police stopped his men from unloading the grocery stock truck when they mistook the contents of the truck for alcohol, how the police almost found out about the speakeasy, how Seokmin proposed to his sister without his permission, and how he punched Seokmin would have been enough to put the both of them at ease.

But he is as hardheaded as they come, and he doesn’t have an answer for her – he doesn’t know why he won’t share his feelings with her.

A scintillant flash glimmers at the corner of his eye, and his bedroom is much too dark for any regular object to be shining so brightly. So he turns his head toward the object only when it catches his eye another time.

Lo and behold are two brilliant diamonds sitting proudly on her earlobes. And for a man who has seen all of his girlfriend, he has never seen them before – no matter how small they are.

“What are those?” he asks her, sitting up to get a better look at the earrings. And he frowns when he sees something prominent missing from her neck. “Where’s your pearl necklace?”

“Tossed it,” she answers a little too nonchalantly for his liking – as if the necklace that she always wore around her neck as a reminder that she would make it big and replace it with a chain of real pearls someday meant absolutely nothing to her.

“What?” His mouth is agape. His stubborn demeanor attenuates while his curiosity slowly appears.

He thinks that she’s joking – playing a little prank on him. But when he sees her staring at her manicured fingertips, pushing back her cuticles with her thumb, he can only accept the fact that she may not be joking. And it stings him a little because of the number of times she firmly turned his offer to buy her a piece of jewelry – a pearl necklace – as a gift, taking umbrage at his thoughtful request.

“Oh, Hoonie. I know you’re about to lecture me about sticking to my dreams. But I got my first big paycheck from the musical, and I saw how glittery and beautiful the diamond earrings looked at Tiffany’s in the department store so I had to buy them.”

Suddenly, his skin under his latest sleepwear under his heavy duvet blanket feels unbearably hot. He feels agitated by her actions even though it doesn’t pertain to him at all. And even more so, he finds himself furrowing his eyebrows at the way she shifted from being upset with him not wanting to talk to her to suddenly forgetting about her anger just because of some real diamonds from the cheapest section. The thought of everything upsets his stomach and makes his jaw clench so hard that one accidental budge could grind his molars flat.

He knows that he can be a bit of an ass all the time and that before he took their relationship seriously he was still flirting with other women while she stupidly latched onto his arm in his speakeasy. He hates hearing his workers tease him about becoming the type of man who would finally settle down with a lovely dame. Nevertheless, her name used to only form from his lips, while they now form from the innermost portion of his heart. And still spends nights wondering how the hell someone like him can manage to fall in love with someone like her – especially the “live in the moment” type of person.  

“Aww,” she whines while shaking his right arm. “I know you’re doing your dumb calculations in your head. It’s fine. I still have leftover money from when I worked two jobs.” She pauses and continues in a sultry voice, holding his right hand in one hand while she tiptoes her fingers along his bicep, “And, I also had enough money left over from this shopping spree to make another purchase.”

She moves before he can ignore her out of spite, letting her bedsheets fall to the mattress as she stands on her knees. Under the yellow light emitting from the art deco nickel-plated lamp from Jihoon’s bedside is a silhouette, a shadow of her figure, cast against the wall. Milk yellow satin bows that sit on top of her shoulders keep her chemise from falling. And the lingerie itself, a square neckline lined with thin hand-embroidered lace, cinches at the waist and drops downwards in a pillowy-soft see-through fabric. The same thin hand-embroidered lace forms garters around her thighs, holding up knee-high socks with tiny bows sewn in the front.

“You don’t want this?” She teases him by letting go of his hand to trace a finger along her neckline.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes, holding out his right hand for her to take again. “Of course I want you. Let me take care of you tonight.”

“No, Love.” She crawls over to him, moving her right thigh over his legs until she straddles his hips. Griding down on him, she places her hands around his neck. “Let me.”

Not able to keep his cool-headed persona, his head tips backward so a soft moan can naturally escape his lips. On his lap is the weight of her entire body – random atoms bundled so tightly, creating cells, creating organs, creating and completing the love of his life. He misses her pearls, the stupid piece of cheap jewelry that tarnishes with every scratch against hard surfaces – like his skin when her nails dig into them, leaving bright and stinging red trenches masked by the fire he feels at his core.

The love of his life on top of him, feeling and teasing herself, calling herself names that may never leave the bedroom…he almost wants to bend her over the bathroom sink to wash her mouth, scrub it raw, and peck the pouty lips and then the eyelids where her lashes tickle his bottom lip. Reveling in his private lap dance as much as a man can at half-past three in the morning, he can only stare at her with so much love that the feeling alone sucks and strips away the color in the life around him. And when his mouth is stuffed with her soaked undergarment and she reaches for his pants, he knows he is done for.

Bedsheet roughly thrown to the side, and the weight of its fall knocks over today’s unread paper placed towards the edge of the nightstand. The paper falls to the floor along with the bedsheet and opens to the entertainment page. Leading Lady FIRED, the headline reads. A summary of the contents is as follows: leading lady was fired because she was caught auditioning for another role while she was supposed to be at practice for her current musical, her no-name understudy will take over her role for the rest of the season, and critics hypothesize either the birth of a new shining star or the failure of an entire production caused by a chain of events.

six - fall

A giant star follows the signature that finishes with a flourish, etched with the black expensive ink from the solid gold Sheaffer “Propel – Repel – Expel” Pencil from the Giftie Set that is supposed to come out at the end of October for this upcoming holiday season. The owner of the receipt that is now etched with the signature of someone famous thanks the musical actress again – still trying to fathom how such a famous actress shops at the same local grocery store as she does – before leaving through the front door.

Chic coffee-colored suede fabric of the light long coat in Philippe et Gaston’s winter collection – not yet released and imported straight from Paris – flows and flaps against the current that rushes in when the patron with the signature leaves the grocery store. Once again, the coat peacefully settles right above her calves when the wind breaks its trail. The actress tucks her pen back in its leather case where the second pair of the Giftie Set is missing – in fact, the matching retractable fountain pen rests in the lapel of the grocery store owner’s coat at all times. She drops the case in her black clutch and snaps it close. Old cut, 0.40-carat yellow and platinum diamonds – two of them in oval drops – collect and accentuate the front of her open collar, gifted by her loving boyfriend. They sparkle against the afternoon sunlight that shines through the shop’s open windows, glimmering and glistening like the love they are meant to represent.

The understudy-turned-leading lady adjusts how her white cloche hat sits on top of her head before turning to look at Seungcheol who leans against the wall behind the cashier counter, furiously whispering into the telephone. It seems as if he doesn’t want to be disturbed, or even be acknowledged. He quickly hangs up the phone and rushes through the backdoor, straight to his boss’s office.

The second owner of the store, the sister, recommends the newspaper with the musical reviews to a customer. There’s a sly smile on her face, the hidden excitement of knowing that the actress whose glowing musical reviews in the newspaper is only a few feet away. Still, she maintains her polite and professional front.

Softly humming to herself while walking around the store, the actress thinks about the items she wants to pick up for her new agent before she meets him for the first time at the radio station. She settles on a soft drink for him and water, no, tea for herself before going to the counter where her fake sister-in-law waits.

“You waiting for Hoon?” the younger one asks while grabbing a brown paper bag from under the counter.

“Yeah,” she sighs while unclasping her bag so she can reach in to grab her coin pouch. “I was supposed to remind him about the radio show today, but he left the house in a rush. I rang him a few times, but I couldn’t even reach him.” She shakes her head while unzipping her coin pouch with her gloved hands.

The cashier tsks and pushes the outstretched hand with the coins away, “Just take the bag. You know my brother will come for my head if he finds out you visited and paid for something. How can I wear a veil during my wedding if I don’t have a head?”

“And you know it hurts my dignity knowing that I can afford at least two drinks,” she pushes back. “Plus, Seokmin would love you even without that pretty head of yours.”

“Take the bag, and bunk off. Dingus,” she mutters, her cadence eerily mirroring that of her brother’s.

“Don’t call her a Dingus.” Jihoon’s voice appears out of nowhere. He finishes tying his apron around his back before shoving his sister to the side. “Only I can call her Dingus.”

“Nobody can call me a Dingus,” the girlfriend remarks and proceeds to drop her coins in the tip jar before taking her bag of drinks from the counter. “Flag me a cab, yeah? I came to remind you about today’s show.”

Immediately acquiescing to her request, he nods his head and quickly scrambles to meet her on the other side. He grabs the paper bag from her arms, afraid that it may be too heavy for her, and guides her to the front of the store. From there, he brings his thumb and pointer finger together and puts them between his lips, whistling loudly to flag a cab.

“Today at three,” he smiles at her. “I didn’t forget.”

A cab pulls to the curb before he can strike up a conversation with her, and he has no choice but to help her in the cab and hand the paper bag back to its owner. And it hurts him a little more when the cab driver drives off before he can kiss her on the cheek. But watching her head pop out of the window while the cab drives away and that big smile of hers coupled with a waving hand, he can’t help but feel like the luckiest man on this Earth.

---

“You closed the shop early and demanded us to come in not for training but because of your girlfriend?” Chan, the part-time bouncer slowly asks as if he is trying to understand his boss’s thought process. “Hoonie wants us to help him get a radio shout-out from his kitten? Meow?”

Mingyu immediately tosses the student over his shoulder and heads over to the speakeasy before Jihoon can physically lunge at his worker. Seungcheol, who may be the only employee who can physically restrain the man without getting fired, lets go of Jihoon when Mingyu and Chan are finally gone.

“Anybody who stays for the entire duration gets a bonus,” Jihoon growls while straightening his collar.

The rest of the group nods and mumble among themselves as their boss adjusts the radio they have all crowded around to the correct frequency. Instantaneously, a familiar laugh fills the tense atmosphere and eases everybody it reaches.

Wow. I can’t believe both of you knew what you wanted to be and where you wanted to go since you were kids, the radio host recounts. Your parents must be so proud.

They are. A masculine voice – the seasoned musical lead. They have a collection of posters from all of the musicals I’ve been in…signed by the cast and everything. They’re so special to me.

That’s so sweet of them to do so, the host responds. Speaking of special people, and I’m pretty sure everybody tuning in wants to know, does our leading lady currently have someone special?

Jihoon’s ears perk up when he hears the question and immediately glow bright red when he notices several pairs of eyes trained on him. He shoots a glare at his crowd before awkwardly adjusting in his seat while he waits for his beloved to respond.

Oh, me? She giggles. I’m happily single.

And the answer shocks everybody – the grocery store becomes so quiet that you can only hear the hums emitting from the refrigerators.

So you’re saying if you’re single and your handsome co is also single, the host presses, then that means there’s a chance that the two of you could possibly become a couple by the end of your season?

Laughter – hearty guffaws from the radio and small awkward hiccups on the other end of the radio.

I mean, the host recounts, word on the street is that there are quite a few kiss scenes in this musical. Not to mention the chemistry the two of you share on stage and off stage. No wonder it’s so popular!

The door to Jihoon’s office slams shut, echoing throughout the establishment. It is only then that the employees of the Diamond Glass finally notice that their boss has angrily left the scene.

seven - fall

Holding her jaw open with one hand, Jihoon bends over and watches his spit fall onto her awaiting tongue, how the liquid bubbles and collapses against the papillae of the muscular organ. Once he shuts her mouth, his hand moves back to her throat where he can clearly feel the way her Adam’s apple bobs against the palm of his hand when she swallows his spit.

Every time he squeezes her esophagus, her velvet walls clench and flutter around his cock while she prays and begs him to take off her blindfold.

But he doesn’t respond. Even when he hears her beg, her: Daddy, Daddy, please. Please take off my blindfold so I can be a proper slut, so you can ruin my pussy. Use me, please. He doesn’t budge. Not today.

Tonight, Lee Jihoon is not taking any requests: he only has one goal on mind.

He has her body memorized – the familiar feeling of hitting the exact spongy part to cause her to orgasm, how much pressure the rough pads of his fingertips must exert on her clit. He rolls his hips for her to take him in deeper until his throbbing tip reaches an end, and he extracts himself and thrusts inwards without pause. The hand around her neck loosens and travels downwards towards her breasts, cupping, squeezing, and pinching the nipples until they turn into sore and hard little nubs. He massages them and watches how they fill the gaps between his fingers with every rough squeeze.

She’s as loud as ever. Back arching, she begs her boyfriend to make her feel good instead of playing with her. She’s already tired of being used despite her excessive begging.

As much as he knows exactly how to make her come undone, he knows exactly the steps he has to take to make himself feel good in her. And he grabs both thighs, pushing them back and spreading them wide to give himself a better angle. Roughly, he rocks his hips into her tight little pussy with so much force that it sends her sliding a few inches backward, the bed creaking.

“Oh- FUCK!” she gasps.

Thrusting aggressively, he bites his bottom lip while he stares at the headboard ahead of him. His fingers dig deep into her thighs and she struggles to moan as her entire body jostles up and down in repeated motions. Everything comes out in segments.

He fucks her roughly and without any ounce of kindness. And when her pussy could clamp around his cock just a few moments ago, it fails to hold on the more she becomes his personal fucktoy instead of his girlfriend. She’s confused and horny, her pussy feeling sore yet amazing while being ripped apart by his thick and veiny cock; he’s close to his release.

The thing is, she’s not even close to coming when his hips jerk and buck in place before he finishes in her. He silently pulls out, rolls off his condom, ties it, and tosses it in the trash can while leaving her in bed. He doesn’t even give her a second glance when he tells her he is headed for the roof.

“What the fuck,” she mutters under her breath while she plants her feet against the mattress. She rips the blindfold off her face and decides that if he’s not going to help her finish, she would do it herself.

If he doesn’t need her, then she sure as hell doesn’t need him.

---

She watches him from the door to the roof as he inhales and lets the pillowy smoke flow out of his mouth. It’s interesting to her how the length of a couple of days can turn two people, as close as they are, into complete strangers. And she is lost as to how such a loving man, no matter how cold he may seem to those who aren’t acquainted with him, could ever act as if his love for her somehow became conditional. 

People say that love can keep people even in the coldest and darkest places warm. Maybe she does believe it to be true, but now, staring at the man she loves the most from a few feet away, the warmth feels more like a memory than a presence. Midnight air nips at her skin, raising goosebumps and causing her arm hairs to stand straight, while he looks blissful or at least contented to be alone with his pack of cigarettes. She doesn’t even know that he had a pack on him. 

People also say that love can make you become either really brave or really dumb, but that’s like comparing apples to oranges. Even she is confused about whether or not confronting him at the top of his brownstone tonight is the bravest or dumbest thing she can do. But her actions happen before she can really register what is it that she wants from him. 

“Is this about me not kissing you before I got into the cab the other day?” Okay, at least it comes off as a passive joke to hide her anger. “It’s because we were in public.”

“Since when have you ever cared about kissing in public?” he gruffs, making it a point to turn his body away from hers. 

His irritable attitude towards her makes her tick. And she scoffs, “Stop bullshitting me, Jihoon. If you miss a kiss, then you can make up for it later on. And I did.” She marches towards the side he is facing and leans against the half-wall balcony. “Remember how we promised to always be open about what’s bothering us? Like the night where I bought the diamond earrings and you were pissed about the engagement?”

“Oh, so it’s my fault.” He rolls his eyes. His temper isn’t the best either. 

“When the fuck did I say it’s your fault?”

“Watch your mouth,” he mutters. 

“Watch my mouth?” she criticizes his hypocrisy. “You won’t even open your mouth to tell me about what’s bothering you. What am I? Some sort of scapegoat for your anger?”

“My anger?” he asks, pointing at himself with the hand that holds his cigarette between his knuckles. His question is rhetorical as well as the answer, but his ego refuses to accept the fact that she isn’t wrong. 

“Yes, your anger,” her voice suddenly calmed. “Please work with me here. Can’t you see I’m trying to solve whatever this is between us? Is it because of Jeonghan’s comment? About how he heard about the unscripted kiss during one of our scenes?”

“So it was real,” he scoffs, turning his head to look at the view ahead of him. He wishes that the soft breeze which tickles and ruffles the tops of the several rows of trees below him can also whisk him away from this conversation. 

“Acting, Jihoon. It was just us acting.” She can’t believe the productive conversation she imagined having with his is taking a turn for the worst. 

“Why don’t you just date him instead because, apparently, I’m not your boyfriend anymore.” His retort is unfairly childish, but it implies some of his underlying concerns are slowly making their way to his surface. His mouth tastes dry and the warm and fuzzy high he felt before she disturbed his peace is already gone. He taps the ashes away against the brick edge before bringing the bud to his lips again. 

“Is this what was bothering you the whole time? The scripted radio show?” She sighs and brings her hand up to her temple to pinch and rub away the pain. Instead, she only feels a swelling sensation form and collects in the inner corners of her eyes. “It was the first time I met this new agent. And I had to listen to him because of his experience in the industry. He said that revealing our relationship might ruin my career, especially taking into consideration how hard I’ve worked for it. So I couldn’t discuss the boyfriend thing with you ahead of time because it was sprung on me the minute I sat down with him.” 

To her side is a man who had grown accustomed to having a cup of tea every morning instead of his usual cup of coffee after learning that his girlfriend doesn’t drink coffee. A man who regularly keeps his kitchen shelves stocked with various teas around the world as his way of saying how much he loves her, he could help but appease his curiosity as to what some measly leaves could offer to a person. The difference in caffeine made him feel a bit woozy at first, a remarkable We should call you Woozi with an I from the way you keep slipping in and out of consciousness from the one called Vernon. But now, he finds pleasure in walking around with a white mug, the tea bag’s string expertly looped twice around the top of the mug’s handle, tucked between his knuckles and mug.  

She knows how much of an asshole he can be, how hard it is for him to physically say “I love you” when others are around, and how he finds it challenging to even begin to open up and talk about his problems. But it may be her greatest downfall, believing that she could completely change a man whose flaws drew her in like a moth towards an open flame.

“I hate it when you smoke,” her voice quivers. She feels small next to the well-built man beside her, but she doesn’t know whether or not she should continue to try to reason with a brick wall. “It’s bad for my lungs.”

The thing is, Lee Jihoon is a good listener. Probably trained by his sister after taking care of her by himself for so many years, his listening skills make up for his lack of good communication skills. And he snuffs his half-burned cigarette against the brick edge, tossing it to the floor of the roof and rendering it destroyed with the heel of his shoe.

When he wraps her in his arms as a way of saying Sorry, I was in the wrong, she notices how cold he must be feeling. His cold skin immediately burns hot the moment it comes into contact with hers.

“I’m sorry. Don’t cry.” His apology is muffled against her strands of hair. “I really do love you.”

“Do you think we’ll be fine?” She asks him. It’s more of a need for confirmation – the reason for confirmation is murky.

“I don’t know.” His heart feels like it’s beating harder than usual, and he’s pretty sure she can also feel it. “I’ll try.”

Jealousy is a vile disease that can overtake and completely alter a person. And she realizes that the man who usually instills jealousy in those around him is also capable of being infected.

eight - winter

Tonight’s drink of choice is his usual Manhattan poured into a whiskey glass and garnished with a fresh slice of lemon instead of his usual olive, cherry, or lemon peel twist. However, it sits untouched on a handmade coaster on the desk in its owner’s office while the owner is nowhere to be found. Condensation on the outside surface of the glass pools at the bottom of the circular glass, held together in a ring thanks to cohesion forces. The cubed block of ice that sat in the middle of the sink now floats to the top in a sort of watery layer just above the alcohol. Pitch-black is what describes the office – nobody would even know Lee Jihoon considered drinking alcohol tonight, let alone visited his office.

Joshua thinks his boss is probably in his office calculating the cost of each ounce of alcohol against the recipe for every drink, knowing how stingy he can be. He also notices the lack of a cheerful presence that makes his boss’s ears flush bright red. But he doesn’t say anything about it, after all, bartenders are always here for the gossip but never participate in spreading gossip.

Jihoon sits in the dark of his grocery store near the entrance where the porch light shines brightly through the glass windows. His shoulder blades, especially the upper area towards the middle of his neck and shoulders, are screaming in pain. And the empty crate he uses as a stool is anything but comfortable.

It’s not a particularly big grocery store. It’s more like a rectangular hole-in-the-wall about the size of the speakeasy's kitchen. There are open crates of neatly stacked fruits and vegetables in front of the counters for customers to choose themselves while all of the other goods are behind the counters. Where walls of groceries line the four walls and the walking space is only large enough to have five different customers comfortably shop at once, Jihoon feels that the tiny front for his speakeasy becomes his sort of personal sanctuary. His sister is barely at home now that she’s in the process of moving most of her stuff to Seokmin’s place, and the tiny changes he made around the house to accommodate his girlfriend remind him too much of her. His office is much too cold and stress-inducing to be in alone during Winter. And the speakeasy is noisy and rowdy where his presence only instills fear in others or causes him to be whisked away in some conversation he doesn’t want to take part in.

So sitting in the only place he can seem to find comfort may be the only way he can truly accept the fact that in the ninth month of getting to know the woman with the big dreams and fake pearls, she is slowly becoming a stranger to him as he is to her.

A single kiss, a peck on the cheek is what she would leave him with before parting every time he dropped her off at the backdoor of the matinee. Now she has a private chauffeur who picks her and her agent up to bring them to wherever her schedule needs her to appear. And it tore out a piece of his heart when she told him that it was for the best especially when she started developing a strong hatred towards speakeasies. In fact, most of their more recent fights were about his job and how she can’t be around people who are associated with something so illegal and vile.

For two people who spent the majority of the year together, each recent meeting feels like an awkward exchange between two people whose lives are moving ahead with barely any space for the other to exist. Where one is preparing for the end of her musical run and the new musical production she’s been cast in, the other one is busy switching seasonal grocery stock and preparing his speakeasy for a VIP. She’s been on more fake dates in a week with her co-star in an industry-fueled scheme to generate more revenue before the musical run ends than she has in a month with her real boyfriend. Even the thrill of sneaking around with each other seemed to have worn off.

One is a woman who came from nothing and now has everything she ever wanted and wants more. The other is a man who came from something and is content with what he has.

Perhaps the thing he most wants is to understand her just a little more. He doesn’t understand the new words and phrases she integrated into her daily jargon and wonders about what or how she thinks of him now that she is on the way to having everything she ever wanted. It’s not like he wants more, no. He’s truly content with what he has. But he can’t help but wonder if love is just the beautiful landscape she spends some time driving through on her road to the glitz and glamour of stardom. If he is simply a backdrop, then why did she even want to pursue him in the first place? Why did he allow himself to fall in love? Why was she so adamant about picking up all of her phony loose pearls when she doesn’t care about buying real ones anymore?

Jihoon knows that life is as fragile as the soft waxy pear he holds in his hand – how a fruit could be so delicate to the touch, but farmers still swatch on a layer of protective wax to keep it from getting bruised and dehydrated with hopes that the fruit would journey safely into somebody’s grocery bag. One single and firm squeeze of the fruit in his palm could turn it into mush and have the juice drip down his fist in globs. Driving a single stomp through the barrel of neatly stacked pears would not save them from becoming absolutely demolished. Protective wax does nothing. Trying to protect himself from getting hurt like that thin coat of fruit wax does absolutely nothing as long as he is in love. And love may just as well be something as fragile as life.

Hand reaching for nothing and hitting the inside of an empty crate, Jihoon quickly retracts his hand while feeling a bit embarrassed for not noticing that he’s done stocking the pears. Having nothing to do causes a wave of loneliness, no, nostalgia to wash over him like the moonlight over the tumbling ocean waves. The fact that she brings up the fact that he owns a speakeasy every time they argue is frequent enough that the thought always lingers at the back of his mind. He can’t comprehend how she somehow started hating speakeasies almost overnight and hates the fact that he is the owner of one. She tells him that it would be better if he left the speakeasy to Seungcheol to manage the grocery store full-time. Looking at everything around him from the walls of products to the shiny wooden floors to the long flowerbeds placed against the walls of windows, he doesn’t know if he could ever give up the speakeasy to work at a place he loves so dearly. Maybe one day in the future when the Prohibition gets lifted, he would turn the speakeasy into something else.

Right now, he is not willing to give up something that he loves. The Diamond Glass is his home, and his employees are his family members. Giving up something as precious as his speakeasy is not something that he would even consider putting on his bargaining table even if it means losing the love of his life. Unwillingness to give up on something he loves for someone whom he loves results in him thinking about the version of his love in the darkness of the grocery store. The version of her with the flimsy dress, the version of her as a fling, the version of her he was afraid to love, the version of her as his love, the version of her he is growing apart from – he thinks about them all. Imagining an alternate universe where she is as unchanging as he is, a version where they can wake up in bed together only to laze around till four in the afternoon – it might be a selfish concept, he thinks. Previously uninhabited space in his brain, now filled with her to the brim, he’s not strong enough for it to spill over until it empties.

A flood of light washes into the grocery store at an angle when the employee door behind the counter opens. Choi Seungcheol stands at its opening with an unsmiling look on his face. Jihoon looks back at the older man, pausing before he sighs and wipes his hands on his pants.

“They’re in your office,” Seungcheol tells his boss.

“Who the hell let them in here?” Jihoon sighs while standing up, stretching his back before heading towards where his employee stands. It doesn’t take many contexts to fully understand what Seungcheol meant when he used the pronoun. Even more so, Jihoon immediately deduced the topic of the incoming conversation and the approximate amount of time the less-than-amicable conversation would take.

“I dunno,” the older man shrugs. “It’s not like we can turn them away. We do need business with them.”

nine - winter

Bursting through the office door and swinging the door open with so much force that the door ricochets off the wooden doorstop and wobbles while being supported by its hinges, she stomps with a fury unmatched by no other. In her wake are a scorching fire and the apologetic part-time bouncer who tried his best to stop her without ever laying a hand on her.

“I-I’m sorry. I tried,” the bouncer with the circular glasses tries to explain himself to his boss. “I-I told her that today’s not a good day, and that you’re-”

“I’m going to make you develop a complex,” the boss seethes through his teeth without moving his mouth to attempt a straight and dignified-looking expression in her presence. Capping his solid gold Sheaffer pen from the old gift set, dropping the expensive item on his stack of papers, and leaning back in his office chair with an annoyed expression on his face is more than enough to send bouncer out the door, scrambling and slamming the door shut behind him.

Jihoon doesn’t respond to his girlfriend, though he makes sure to look at her, studying her smudged stage makeup and the new expensive decoration that hangs from her neck. Silence between the couple becomes a waiting game, a game that anticipates the drop of a guillotine strong enough to cut the tension developed. Pulling the lever, she slices through and continues the journey she embarked on since her last show.

“Lee Jihoon,” his name cracks like a lightning strike – powerful yet lonely – emitted from her atmosphere. “How could you?”

Outside the guarded office door, the VIP speakeasy crowd roars in laughter and cheers. Glasses clink and specially ordered wooden chairs scrape against the sticky floors while speakeasy singers entertain their audience for the night. If Lee Jihoon is the owner and boss of this establishment, then the middle-aged woman who sits at the circular mini table right in front of the stage is the king.

This middle-aged woman with a kind face whose deep smile lines appear when she smiles at others in her acknowledgment is the sole supplier of the Diamond Glass’s alcohol. One misstep, one thought of collusion against her, one simple miscalculation on proposals can erase the Diamond Glass from existence including its workers, leaving the local police with a cold case unsolved for years because they would have nothing, to begin with. Hoping to never upset the king before the Prohibition ends, Lee Jihoon will do anything to maintain his healthy and trustworthy relationship with her and her cohort.

Right now, with her in his office, there is so much more than just simply trying to be business partners with the speakeasy’s current private clients. Because of this, agitation is what makes his leg shake. Fear is what causes him to snap at his girlfriend. Ultimately, this sparks a negative chain reaction foreseeable by anybody since the beginning of Autumn.

Get out are the only two words he can manage to snap at her. His right pointer finger pointed at his office door and his right arm trembles in its extension. Himself, the man sitting in his office chair, feels nothing but anger and fear from seeing his girlfriend in a place in which she should not be seen – a place she upbraided and proclaimed to be untenable in its legality.

“How could you?” she asks again in an accusing tone, her hands forming into tight balls of fists so that her knuckles visibly pale. “You liar. You promised you would be there for my last show. Why weren’t you there? You have so many employees working for you, and you’re not even out there. You’re just sitting in your office doing something you can do another time. Everybody’s partners were there for them at the afterparty yet I rushed here.”

Jihoon sits up from his seat, folding his hands on his desk. He takes a good look at the musical actress in front of him – prim and proper looking, her hair styled in neat curls, and the elegant and flowy black Lanvin Robe de Style which he finds to indicate she took time to change out of her costume into something non-inconspicuous. Paris’s House of Creed’s Angélique Encens set to be released in the early 1930s floats around her like a thin veil of mist. The sensual powdery-floral cut by the salty ambergris beautifully blended with vanilla and tuberose was said to be a pre-release gift from the founder of the perfume house. He thinks about the time when she accidentally dropped the perfume bottle she bought back in ’17 on her wooden floors. She thought nothing of the accident – no indication of dejection while picking up the broken pieces of glass and causally mentioned the perfume incident in an interview. The next day, a fresh bottle and a bouquet of roses were gifted to her from the perfumery. He’s not sure if the new bottle ever made it out of her closet. He’s not the type to compare himself to others – no, his confidence and self-assurance are too high for that – but he can’t help but wonder whether or not he can say her name the way he used to.

When you love someone, a name isn’t formed from the mouth but from the heart. The image of her in his head, once formed and sculpted from his skinny love, still exists in his hippocampus. Happiness when he sees her, the rush of dopamine when he feels her fall asleep again him after a long day, never originated from the limbic cortex. Fully believing it, even now at this moment despite the circumstances, he believes it was passed to him by her. Where her name is formed from his heart, she is his entire heart. And it hurts him to even consider the fact that she he holds close to his heart may just as well walk away with a piece of him that would never be returned.

It is the last time he says her name from his heart. He tells her to leave, that it’s not safe. He doesn’t want his bodyguards to ever lay a hand on her. It’s for the best, he tells her. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. He’s afraid of the fact that literal gangsters in the building would scare her, and he’s not about to compromise her integrity. For her sake, he feels that keeping the fact to himself, letting her walk over him if she has to, may keep her safe.

“But there’s no tomorrow,” she almost wails, stomping her feet even. She’s frustrated that she had to attend the party celebrating the end of the season alone, frustrated over his stolid attitude over everything. She just wishes he could’ve been there with her experiencing one of the most important moments of her life.

Shooting out of his chair, sending it backward from the force with which he pulls himself up, he slams his hands on his desk. “Leave,” he yells at her.

“Choose,” she lays down her ultimatum for him. “Me or the speakeasy.”

“Diamond Glass,” he chooses without hesitation. Albeit, the expression he notices form on her face causes him to feel restive in his response. “Me or your fake boyfriend?”

“Fake boyfriend?” She feels her skin prick with coldness. “Do you have to bring him up every time we get into an argument?”

“What?” The tone of his voice is anything but amicable. “So you’re only here to argue with me for a little bit before you storm off to your little boy toy. What happened to compromise? What happened to me being the most important person in your life?”

“Compromise?” She seethes. “I literally told you that my new agent sprung it upon me when I met him.”

“The easiest phrase you can say as an actress is ‘no comment.’ Or are you so far up your ass and your glitz and glamour that all you can do is be hotsy-totsy with all the men around you? Do you even think about me? Or do I only appear in your mind when you need me?”

“So what about me living the life I always wanted? So what if I have to fake date rich men while keeping this persona they built for me? Men, any men, regular men, rich men, they can all get in and out of relationships and marriages whenever they please and they wouldn’t be shamed for it. They can marry whenever and whoever they please and not be looked down upon. This includes you, Jihoon,” her voice dips when she says his name. There is a crack in her voice that Jihoon absolutely hates hearing because it means anything but her happiness. “All they want women to do is marry and have kids. But I get to escape that expectation because of my job. The leading lady was fired because she auditioned for another job. So what if the world found out that the understudy had a boyfriend? I would be a joke. I would be forced out of the industry, blacklisted for not taking my job seriously.”

“Why do you care so much about what other people think?” He almost wants to shout at her, to hurl his chair against the wall. “Given my connections, you would never be forced out of the industry.”

“You don’t get it do you?” Her knees buckle. “I never wanted to rely on you.”

“Then what did you want me for?” He can’t contain himself anymore. He shouts at her in frustration. “A good fuck? A summer fling? Someone to fix because your life was so boring before me?”

“I just wanted you by my side,” she shouts back.

“And I was always by your side.” He’s so frustrated that tears well up in the inner corners of his eyes. “I was always by your side even when I wasn’t in love with you. I was by your side this whole time even if you never felt it. I was by your side even when I didn’t understand. When I didn’t understand why you loved me. When I didn’t understand the words that came out of your mouth. When I didn’t understand why you don’t even look at me the way you used to.”

“And what was the way I used to-” She cuts herself off, stopping so she can point her head to the ceiling so that he doesn’t have to look at her sob. “Fuck.” The realization slaps her in the face.

“Shit,” Jihoon has no choice but to cuss. His face stabs with pain, and his arms feel numb. But heaping globs of tears stream down his face, and he breaks down on his spot – choked sobs and trembling shoulders, unable to look her in the eye. He also realizes the same thing – she doesn’t love him anymore.

Lee Jihoon doesn’t remember how he ended up in the middle of the VIP party’s crowd, drunk off of giggle water. Tonight, he can’t even bring himself to flirt with the woman who he plants himself behind, bringing her ass to his dick while she grinds on him on the dance floor. Everything feels so foreign to him – letting go, straying from his usual Manhattan, people prying him off of someone new, crying, being single, sobbing, crashing on someone’s couch, blacking out. He doesn’t know who he is or where he is. The only thing he remembers is seeing a piece of his heart leave when she left him in his office and the realization that they are no more.

Not even a sense of familiarity can rush over his inebriated self when he feels a heavy blanket cover his shivering body. Seungcheol, no; his sister, no; Seokmin…the king? He can’t quite differentiate whose couch it is that he is laying on or who it is who is consoling him.

“We can never go back to who we were before love,” the unidentified voice reassures him. “After love, we are just as different. But it takes time to create a better us than who we were when we were in love. After all, time and feelings change. You have loved yourself before, Jihoon. And you will love yourself again.”  

“Feel broken,” he manages to slur through his tears. He hasn’t stopped crying since being dragged out of the speakeasy “Gone.”

“But it doesn’t mean you can’t find yourself in the future.”

epilogue - spring '39

Lee Jihoon carries a toddler in his arm, someone whose eyes curl the same way he does when he smiles. He hands him an apple, a gorgeous waxy Red Delicious that is arguably too big for the toddler’s hands.

“Hold tight,” Jihoon tells the child. “Or it would fall and roll away. Then we can’t sell the apple.”

But the fruit immediately falls from the toddler’s hands, bouncing and rolling towards the other side of the newly renovated grocery store.

After all these years, the mom-and-pop grocery store manned by the Diamond Glass’s workers and families still stands proudly while facing the busy street before it. And the Diamond Glass, converted into a bar, has since made a name for itself after the Prohibition. The establishment with its criminal origins, instead of deterring people away, only attracts and appeals to the public.

The bell above the front door clanks when a new customer steps inside. And the quick burst of air caused by the act of opening the door drowns out what the new customer says to their driver.

In the meantime, Jihoon sighs and looks at the child in his arms – the kid whose lips quiver from making a mistake. He decides to let him go and squats to tell him that his mom would send him into exile if he ever made him cry. “Even worse,” he whispers to the child, “Seokmin would cry if he ever saw you cry. And you know how much your dad cries. But go get Uncle Seungcheol for me. We need more people in the front.”

A few minutes after the boss feels a gentle tap on his right shoulder. But he chooses to ignore them and instead calls for Seungcheol to help with the customer. He feels the tap again, this time with a little more pressure. So he turns his head from his stack of apples on the ground, looking up at the customer standing behind him.

She holds the dusty and bruised apple in her outstretched hand. And he notices the freshly coated swatch of lacquer that decorates her nails. His eyes trace up her gams to her tweed Chanel skirt and the matching blazer which sculpts her shoulders. In contrast to her expensive designer wear is the scuffed and faded pearl necklace which sits proudly around her neck – a contrasting centerpiece to her outfit. And he can tell that they’re fake, just like the ones that scattered and clacked against his once illegally sticky speakeasy floors.

Seungcheol’s head pops from the doorframe to the employee door behind the grocery store counter. “Who is it?” he asks his boss.

Jihoon looks at her in her eyes, the same pair of twinkling eyes he could never forget, and answers his question, “An old friend.”

Copyright © 2023 Himbocoups. All rights reserved.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skeleton finds out that S/O is abusing their child when they are not there.

Undertale Sans - He's so confused about it. How did he not see it? It was right under his nose. He feels guilty he couldn't protect his child sooner, and obviously, he breaks out with S/O right away. Being angry or frustrated never justifies hitting a child. He knows that he had a harsh childhood and he took every hit to protect Papyrus. He's badly triggered and it's part of the rare things he can't forgive. He'll make sure he has full custody of his child.

Undertale Papyrus - He doesn't know what to do when he figures out so he turns to the only person he trusts 100% on these subjects, his brother. Sans takes the matter very seriously and encourage his brother to talk with his S/O about it and to choose if either or not he wants to take the case to court. It's not easy as Papyrus still loves his S/O, but... He needs to think about the well-being of his child first. He follows Sans's advice and goes to Undyne to report his S/O, even if he's heartbroken about this. This can't continue like this. He then tries to move on after he gets his child's custody, relying on his brother and his friends for help.

Underswap Sans - He makes things worse. He is a police officer, but he should do something, but it's not that easy. Blue is deeply attached to his S/O and he just can't report them. Sure, it's bad, but he's so scared of losing his S/O that he's not sure how to react. Also, he's really not sure the kid would be better with just him around. He's often absent, he's not a good father figure. Eventually, talking with his S/O, they choose to give up parenthood so violence doesn't escalate further, and they give the child to Honey. It's bitter, and they both live this like a big failure, but it's for the best. Not all people are fit to be parents.

Underswap Papyrus - He's not mad, he's enraged. He noticed the marks on their child's body but he trusted you and assumed it just happened at school. But when the school warned him they reported them for child abuse, he quickly realized the abuse was coming from you. He confronts you, and quickly starts to scream at you. Because how could you do something like that?! Now you're both at risk of losing his child forever, all because he trusted you. He doesn't want to see you ever again and he will fight with all he has to keep the custody of his child. It's one of his immediate dealbreakers.

Underfell Sans - He immediately blames himself. Did it happen because he's not doing enough? He tries to talk to his S/O about this, but even with their explanation, he can't understand. They're just a child. It's not their fault they were born and it's too late to back away now. He can't understand you lashing on the child and maybe it's best if you step aside and let him take care of the child. You live in a weird house-share for a while, then finally decide to break up as it gets more and more awkward. Red has no resentment though if S/O still wants to see their child, they can. He still hopes things can get better someday.

Underfell Papyrus - He's completely disgusted. As a soldier Underground, protecting children from violent parents was one of the missions he was the most invested in. He feels guilty he didn't see it sooner and he can't forgive it. He saw what consequences it has on children he sometimes had to kill because they somehow got recruited by gangs who used their abuse as a motor for revenge. He refuses to let his child go through this. Even though it's less extreme on the Surface, he refuses to be the dad who watched it all happen and did nothing as his child suffered in silence for years. Get out of this house, you're not welcome anymore. He's going to protect his child the best he can now.

Horrortale Sans - Toriel warned him something was not right with hi child. She raised abused children, she knows. She also knows Oak would never hurt children, so it left only one person. Oak is horrified and can't understand how it happened. The kid is loved, there are Willow, Toriel, and Grillby to help when they're getting too much to handle. Why would you do this? He lost all trust in his S/O. He still tries to get over it after calling them out, but he can't. He just can't. He can't look his child in the eyes knowing what you did. He knows he's not the best father because of all his disabilities, but that doesn't give you the right to act like this. He breaks up and asks for full custody. He knows the judge will be reluctant, but he has Willow and Toriel to support him and they're both ready to act as a guardians if the court refuses to let him take care of the child alone.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's furious. He suffered abuse Underground and you think he's not going to say something about this? He can't even believe you did that. He can't trust you again after this. He knows how bad abuse can become and how it changes people. He can't live with you knowing his child will grow fearful of you. They're still young enough to not remember any of this growing up, and he will make sure it's the case. Leave and go to therapy. Once you realize how wrong you are, maybe you can come to him again to discuss the possibility of seeing your child again, not before. For now, he's going to protect them from you. Leave.

Swapfell Sans - He grew up with a father who never cared about him and who disappeared one day, abandoning him with his brother. He refuses to let this happen to his child. Abuse is what forced his hand to join the Royal Guard. Because he had no one he could rely on. He refuses his child has no one they can trust growing up, so you have to go. He still loves you, but he can't tolerate abuse. He asks for full custody and he will make sure his child will never miss anything. He'll give them the choice to choose if they want to see their other parent again when they'll be old enough to choose, not before.

Swapfell Papyrus - Rus has no idea what to do. He never was good at taking responsibility. He's a bit lost about what to do, and talking with S/O only led to more conflicts, which he hates. Now his S/O won't talk to him, his child is still abused and he's lost. He goes to talk to Nox, who immediately agrees to take the child in the time he figures out how to deal with the situation. Nox assures him he's there for him and that if he wants to take legal action, he'll support him. Eventually, Rus has no choice but to go to court because his S/O won't listen. He's sad it had to end like this, but he can't stay there and do nothing. He's terrified he's going to raise his child alone, but his brother is here to help.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He gives you the choice. Either you change drastically and take responsibility for what you did to the child, or either you leave this house and never come back. He still loves you, but he can't tolerate this. He told you he wasn't comfortable with having children, and you assured him it would be fine. Now that the child is here, it's not their fault they were born and he worked hard to be a decent father. He's expecting the same thing from you. It's not that hard to not abuse your child. If it's because he's not present enough, just talk to him instead of using such extremes. That's a warning, but he's very serious. If you don't change your behaviour, he's taking full custody.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - One day, you come home and Coffee, the child, and all of their stuff are out of the house. He'll only recontact you to say he took the case to court and that he'll meet you there. He refuses to contact you for anything else. He feels betrayed and can't believe you did that to his child. He went back to live with his brother the time he gets full custody. He never wants to see you again. That's one of his huge dealbreakers as well.

[scotianostra]

The Scottish comedian and actor Ronnie Corbett was born on December 4th 1930 in Edinburgh.

Corbett was educated at James Gillespie’s High School and the Royal High School in the city, but did not attend university.After leaving school, he decided he wanted to be an actor while performing in amateur theatricals at a church youth club. His first job, however, was with the Ministry of Agriculture.

Following national service, Corbett moved to London to start his acting career in the early 1950s. Amongst many other things he performed on stage with Danny La Rue in a mixture of well received variety and cabaret shows.

It was whilst performing in these shows that Corbett attracted the attention of several top TV producers and executives who were impressed with his abilities as a stand up comedian, compare and all round entertainer.Before too long Corbett found himself being offered roles in various sitcoms, films and family shows.

His varied film roles include “Polo” in the spoof Bond film Casino Royale, “Drooby” in Rockets Galore and finally the hapless “Chumleigh” in Fun at St Fanny's

His big break came during the 1960s when he was asked to join the cast of the hugely popular The Frost Report (1966) which included the likes of John Cleese and of course David Frost. The show also saw him performing alongside Ronnie Barker for the very first time. All aspects of “The Frost Report” were very funny but some of the most enjoyable involved Barker and Corbett who shared a rare comic chemistry between each other.

TV producers recognized this chemistry and there were talks of giving the pair their own comedy series.The rest is history - the Two Ronnies had arrived together - it was simply comic genius, Barker and Corbett were made for each other, a pairing that was just destined to be. In 1971 the pair made their debut in the BBC show The Two Ronnies.

There is no doubt that Ronnie Barker was the best comedy actor of his generation, but over the years many critics have unfairly overlooked the brilliant talents of Corbett - he was a fantastically versatile comedy actor in his own right. He was an equal part in the relationship - put simply he complemented Barker and Barker complimented him.

As well as being a wonderful comedy actor Corbett was also an accomplished after dinner speaker and of course a very very funny stand up comedian. During the filming of the “Two Ronnies” Corbett found time to branch off into a whole host of other projects as did Ronnie Barker.

Ronnie Corbett has enjoyed continued success in both film and television. He starred alongside old friend John Cleese, and Jamie Lee Curtis in the film Timbuctoo, has done numerous pantomimes with Frank Skinner and Paul Merton and is one of the stars in Monkey Trousers with Steve Coogan, Vic Reeves, Matt Lucas and David Walliams.

In 2005 Corbett reunited with Barker to present a special six part series looking back at their favorite moments from the “Two Ronnies”.

Corbett was a charismatic and extremely likable man - there is absolutely no doubt that he will be fondly remembered by millions of people as being not only half of one of the most successful comedy duos of all time, but also as a truly brilliant entertainer.

On 31 March 2016, Corbett died at the age of 85, at Shirley Oaks Hospital in London, his devoted wife Anne later revealed his secret battle with deadly motor neurone disease, which recently also took the life of Doddie Weir.

[piggyette]

soft asks by cullenedward

i treat ask games like surveys.

cherry - what is your sexuality?

gay. i'm a gay man

lollipop - favorite makeup products?

i like the aesthetic of flower knows, but the products aren't exactly special in any regard of quality. i'm a sucker for colourpop. their blacks are just so... creamy.

daydreams - if you could be anything or anyone, who would you be?

joey jordison in 2000.

october - what month were you born in?

july. my birthday is on the 26th. you should send me a gift <3

caress - do you like to snuggle?

for certain amounts of time with certain people. generally i'm pretty easily overwhelmed when it comes to touch and don't seek it out.

ivory - describe your pajamas?

i don't wear them.

golden - favorite stationary product?

i like a nice glide on a black pen. but i also like cute stickers and tape. if it counts, i collect greeting cards i'm sent.

freckles - most-worn article of clothing?

probably my old t-shirts from high school functions, covered in hair dye stains.

twilight - best friend?

@killmsamerica

silk - do you like k-pop?

i don't have anything against it, but i don't exactly care for it.

poppy - favorite pastel color?

green. shades like this:

dimples - most attractive features of a person’s face?

eyes are the obvious choice, but an interesting nose shape, long lashes, or unique scarring/coloration is captivating me lately.

sunkissed - autumn or spring?

autumn.

buttery - favorite snack?

i like almonds, and i like chocolate, and i like dried fruits. so trail mix is the obvious choice, but i don't actually eat it all that much.

whisper - how much sleep do you get?

i'm used to getting at least 7 hours, but i've had a bout of insomnia lately, so i've been getting 4 hours on average.

pencil - do you own a journal?

a few, yeah. the one i use the most isn't physical, though.

cupcake - are you a good cook?

i'm an alright cook. the food i make is better than edible, but i wouldn't say i go out of my way to learn complex or new recipes. i can take care of myself and my housemates don't get sick of my cooking. i've never gotten any complaints.

honey - favorite term of endearment?

babe/y(boy), boy (just alone), precious, beloved, love/r

clouds - describe one of your favorite dreams?

all of the dreams i've had more than once aren't pleasant to consider in my myspace top 4

velvet - who was your first crush?

gary oak from the pokemon anime?

paper - favorite children’s book?

stella luna. i used to go by that name before i transitioned. i think i'd name a rat that, nowadays.

peaches - do you have a skincare routine?

i used to have a more extensive one, but i find simplicity is really king. now that its as desperately hot as it is, it's really cut down to just washing my face with antibacterial soap (yes u heard that right). i use a cerave moisturizer (not the kind in the bottle, the kind in the jar).

mochi - favorite studio ghibli film?

i don't watch them, really.

backyard - did you ever have an imaginary friend?

a few. they turned out to be alters or hallucinations BAHAHA

strawberry - favorite fruit?

strawberries, peaches, pears, pineapple. oh my.

kiss - have you ever kissed a friend?,

yes. kisses are gross, i've found.

nightlight - do you read before bed?

no, but i tried at some point to see if it'd help the insomnia. not really, no difference, i've found.

shampoo - favorite scent?

i'm a fragrance slut, so this question is the best way to get me to prattle on for a while. i love the smell of white florals such as lillies, jasmine, frangipani, meadowsweet, and honeysuckle. when it comes to rose, i prefer a rose oil smell over the flower itself, but its still nice on the whole. i enjoy herbals and incenses like clove, patchouli, myrrh, and frankincense. i recently got a perfume that smells like nag champa and flowering cannabis, and its much nicer than it sounds. i love leather smells, gasoline, motor oil, and industrial plastic scents. but most of all i love earthy and green scents, such as concrete, stone, dirt, and petrichor. a good overturned soil scent literally makes my mouth water.

my favorite perfumes are chanel no 5, moss maiden by alkemia, saint louis cemetery no 1 by alkemia, flora gardenia by gucci, and gold rush by paris hilton (the odd one out). among many many more.

skin - what distant relative are you closest to?

my great aunt.

aphrodite - favorite actress/actor?

clara bow and james spader.

cuddles - do you have any pets?

yes, i have a brown tabby named sushi.

lace - if you own any dresses, which is your favorite?

a tiny black number that barely reaches past my pantyline.

sheets - sanrio or san-x characters?

sanrio. i love keroppi and deery lou.

cream - frozen yogurt flavor?

i don't have a good relationship with froyo. we're not on speaking terms. once during a vacation, all the quick service venues were closed except for a froyo place, so it's all i ate for two days straight.

watermelon - do films ever make you cry?

yes, almost every time.

sapphos - favorite poet?

ocean vuong.

plush - how many stuffed animals do you still own?

too many to count.

roses - what flower do you find most beautiful?

lillies.

sweetheart - favorite mug/cup?

i have a mug shaped like a ducks head that i love.

sunset - what are your pronouns?

he/him.

[rosefeirie]

☼☾ ( alex fitzalan. he/him. cis-man. ) The courts of veritas welcome ELIJAH FINCH! it’s been said that the 21 year old WIXEN is known to be ASTUTE and PERCEPTIVE but he’s also INTROVERTED and CYNICAL. When FINCH isn’t working as a MECHANIC, he can be found READING IN THE EVERMORE LIBRARY. If you visit his home in RAVENWYCK, it may remind you of FRESH MOSS, THE SCENT OF THE DAMP FOREST FLOOR, ORNATE TAROT CARDS STACKED ON A SMALL BROKEN NIGHTSTAND, STRIPPED COTTON SHEETS AND DIRTY CONVERSE BY THE DOOR. He may be your best friend or your greatest enemy. ☾☼

TW: PHYSICAL ABUSE + MENTIONS OF BLOOD

BASICS:

FULL NAME: ELIJAH FINCH

NICKNAME(S): ELI, FINCH, THE MAGICIAN

ETHNICITY: WHITE

NATIONALITY: AMERICAN

BIRTHDAY: JULY 8TH

AGE: 21

SPECIES: WIXEN

BELONGS TO: RAVENWYCK 📍

EDUCATION: GRADUATED FROM PUBLIC SCHOOL AT THE TOP OF HIS CLASS, EVEN GOT INTO HARVARD UNIVERSITY BEFORE DROPPING OUT.

OCCUPATION: MECHANIC

WRITTEN AESTHETICS: MOTOR OIL UNDER YOUR NAILS, SKIN STRETCHED OVER THIN BONES, QUICK TO BLEED, SLOW TO HEAL, ANGER; QUIET AND FEVERENT.

FAMILY TREE:

MOTHER: LAUREN FINCH [ HUMAN ]

FATHER: ROBERT FINCH [ HUMAN ]

APPEARANCE:

Finch is 5'10, right handed, has hair and matching eyes the color of dirt. He's fair skinned, on the thinner size, and has an overall delicate look about him. He's pretty, stupid pretty, but where he's from, that's not a good thing. His features mirror his mother more than his father's, a fact he is often grateful for.

He has several scars all over his chest and back from years of abuse at the hands of his father. He also lost hearing in his left ear due to the last time his father and him got into it. The loss of his hearing is the exact reason he ran away from home.

SUPERNATRUAL ABILITIES:

Finch wasn't always aware of his magical abilities. Often when unexplainable things occurred, he'd chalk it up to a coincidence or on one of the many concussions he suffered. He explained things away because he couldn't afford to be anything more or anything less than Elijah Finch. Not if he wanted a full-ride to Harvard, not if he wanted out of his town and away from his father's abusive hands.

But sometimes things don't work out the way you think they should. The last night he'd spent at home something strange happened. His father found out about Finch working at the local mechanic shop and began ripping into him for withholding funds from him. Robert Finch was an ugly man, a cruel creature who knew only anger and violence. Finch knew this, he understood it as his father threw the first punch. He knew it as he fell to his knees, he knew it as foot met chest and ribs and arms covering precious real estate. So Finch begged, not to his father, but to the universe, to free him, to make him strong, to make him something other than Elijah Finch and in return he'd give the powers that be anything they wanted of him.

Maybe it was his blood, maybe it was his resolve to survive, maybe it was the universe apologizing for all those years they ignored his pleas but they finally answered his call.

He thought: get him off me. The large oak tree near his childhood home erupted with sound as its branches swung down to throw Robert Finch off of him. The last thing he remembered was his mother's scream, the pale lights of red and blue coming down from a far distance before he blacked out completely.

He was a man of science first, always had been, but he could not deny the world any longer. He wasn't just Elijah Finch anymore. He was something else. He finished high school, went to school for biology and went to work on discovering who he'd become that night. When he realized the answers couldn't be found in the halls of Harvard he went looking elsewhere, until he heard whispers of some self-contained island that had a population of people just like him.

While in Veritas, Finch learned he had the ability to communicate and control the nature around him. He has limits, like he can't force it to rain when the sun is shining but he can speak to the trees. He can hear the secrets that travel in the sigh of the wind, the whisper in the rivers and natural running waters. he still however, has no idea who gifted him these powers to begin with.

Finch has a fondness for Tarot cards. He might not know who or what he sold himself to but at the very least he can communicate with them through his cards. He has a particularly ornate set of cards, flecked with gold and pinks and lovely shades of green and blue.

Eli is generally a wary person. When confronted with the supernatural he has a normal level of fear for all of them. He has a particular distaste for those who use their compulsion without remorse or empathy.

Finch is not and has never been a fighter. Ever.

PERSONALITY:

Finch is realistic, intelligent, observant, and on occasion thoughtful but he's also quite cynical, lacks trust in others, and has an overall melancholic aura about him. He's a lonely person, even when surrounded by people, he feels otherly. The difference is self-imposed but he doesn't make any moves to change that.

FAMILY:

Finch hasn't spoken to his mother since he pressed charges against his father. Unfortunately due to his father having unexplainable injuries Finch was forced to drop them. He moved into a shitty apartment in town while he finished out high school. He's quite poor and incredibly embarrassed about it but he made do. He got out and under his own terms. He doesn't have any other family that he knows of.

The Q's + A's:

Finch was born in Culpeper, Virginia. He was raised in a double wide trailer in an un-incorporated community on the outskirts of Culpeper. He moved to Veritas to learn more about his abilities at the age of eighteen. There's nothing outside of this island that he misses but he does often wonder if his mother thinks of him from time to time.

Finch likes to see the different species intermingling. It gives him hope that in the future maybe he too could be a part of their community.

Every human he's ever come across has only ever caused him pain or turned a blind eye to his agony. He does not like nor trust them.

He's had crushes on girls in grade school and all the way through to college but he's never imagined kissing them or doing anything else with them. He wonders why. He wonders if that will change.

CONNECTIONS:

Finch keeps to himself most of the time. He's socially awkward with people his age especially. He makes good friends with those older than him, especially other Wixens.

KIAN RAINIER [ BEST FRIEND ]

EASTON ALLEN [ FRIEND ]

TBA

pinterest. spotify.

[talesofargante]

The Guardian of Trollhunters Episode 1: Part 1 - A New Dawn

Pairing: Jim Lake Jr. x Liz Walker (OFC)

Episode Summary: A new day dawns in Arcadia with the arrival of a new student in Arcadia Oaks High, one who seems familiar to Jim. Unbeknownst to both of them, their destinies are intertwined as the fate of Arcadia rests on their shoulders.

Words: 1.7k

Warning: mention of character death (if I miss any warnings please lmk)

Masterlist | Next Chapter

[Episode 1: Becoming Part 1]

A new day dawns in Arcadia with the arrival of a new student in Arcadia Oaks High, one who seems familiar to Jim. Unbeknownst to both of them, their destinies are intertwined as the fate of Arcadia rests on their shoulders.

Jim Lake Jr. POV

"Jimmy!" A child's voice called out as Jim Lake Jr. looked up. A silhouetted figure waves at him from across the field. "Come on, Jimmy! Hurry up!"

"Hey, wait for me!"

"Come on, slowpoke!"

"Wait!"

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Jim groaned as his morning alarm went off, interrupting his dream. He's been having dreams almost every night for the past month. Every dream he had were old memories of his childhood friend. A friend who he considered most precious to him until he lost her one tragic night years ago, never to be seen again.

He slides off the motor pedal magazine from his face and turns to look at the time: 6:00 A.M. He better get moving. He promised his best friend, Toby, that he would make him lunch today.

Jim quickly gets out of bed to start his day, unaware that in a few moments everything he thought he knew was about to change.

Unknown POV

A girl with golden brown wavy hair and turquoise eyes walked alongside her tall friend with hazel-colored eyes partially covered by indigo streaks of hair as they headed towards Arcadia Oaks High.

"You sure you want to enroll into this school, love? I'm sure Arcadia Oaks Academy would be lucky to have you instead," Douxie asks the girl besides him, his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

The girl sighed lightly to herself. "Again, I'm sure. You don't have to worry about me, Doux. I can take care of myself."

Douxie chuckled. "Oh, I know that. It's not you I'm worried about. It's the school."

The girl laughed, looking up at her friend. "Really, Doux?"

He shrugs, smiling down at the girl, his hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. "I'm just saying, love. You'll be sweeping people off their feet once they meet you."

"Like I did with you?" She smirked.

"Ha!" Douxie laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "Not literally, I hope."

The two chuckled as they approached the school with the sky lightening up with the coming dawn. They walked up the front steps, through the main courtyard towards the main entrance. Inside, they went down the hall to the main office with faculty prepping for another school day. A woman with black hair and glasses behind the desk glanced up at their arrival. "Good morning. How may I help you?"

The girl glanced at Douxie as he nodded before going up to the front desk with a charming smile on her face. "Hello there. I'm a new student. I've been told to come today for my first day of school."

"Ah, yes. Can you tell me your name, please?"

"My name is Elizabeth Walker."

After saying goodbye to Douxie, Liz waited patiently in a chair on the side as the lady went to get the principal. A tall man with black and side grey hair and green eyes walked in the office taking notice of an unfamiliar face. Curious, he approached the girl with a friendly smile.  "Hello, I don't believe we have met. I am Mr. Strickler, the history teacher."

Liz looks up to greet him, however she senses something strange about the man. Shaking the thought off internally, she smiled back politely and held out a hand to shake. "Elizabeth Walker, but everyone calls me Liz. Nice to meet you, Mr. Strickler."

As the two shook hands, the lady came back with a short, middle-aged man. "Ah, I see that you two have acquainted. Perfect. Welcome to Arcadia Oaks High, Miss Walker. I am Principal Levit. I have your class schedule here and your first class of the day will be with Mr. Strickler. Since you're here quite early, why don't you go ahead and explore around to get familiar with the campus. Mr. Strickler, would you mind giving Miss Walker a small tour?"

Mr. Strickler nodded. "Not at all. Come along, Miss Walker. We'll start with my office first."

Liz follows Mr. Strickler as he leads her down the corridor to his office. After dropping off his bag and explaining his open office hours, the tall teacher guides her throughout campus pinpointing each area: the classrooms, bathrooms, gym, library, cafeteria, auditorium, and finally the courtyard. Just before Liz could thank her teacher, a sharp pain coursed through her body making her gasp. Kanjigar.

"Are you alright?" Mr. Strickler asked, glancing at his student with worry. Liz clenched her jaw, but quickly hid her pain with a smile. "Quite alright, Mr. Strickler. I just realized I forgot something at home. "

At this, the teacher glanced at his watch, then back to the young girl before him. "Ah, I see. School won't be starting for another hour or two. I presume that should be enough time for you to reach home and back here on time?"

Liz nodded, slowly stepping backwards. "Yes, that should be enough. See you in class, Mr. Strickler."

Waving at him, Liz quickly turned and left the campus, her feet carrying her to her apartment down a few blocks from the school. She clenched her jaw, ignoring the sharp, throbbing pain radiating throughout her body as her mind raced in worry for the Trollhunter.

Finally, Liz catches sight of her blue KTM Duke 200 motorbike parked in front of her apartment main door, she fishes out her keys from her denim jacket inner pocket. Hopping onto her bike, she turns on the engine and drives her way to Arcadia Oaks Canal, hoping that Kanjigar is alright. After dodging past cars, Liz parks her bike on the side away from traffic near the bridge before running towards the canal. Stopping before the drop into the canal, her hand went over her mouth in shock. What she saw down below, shook her to the core.

At the bottom of the canal were broken pieces of stone and in its center, gleaming under the sunlight was the Amulet of Daylight. Liz immediately recognized who it was: Kanjigar the Courageous, her mentor, her foster father, Kanji. Before she knew it, tears were running down her face as she processed this. She couldn't believe it, but the proof was there in front of her. Kanjigar would not have been easily defeated unless...he sacrificed himself. For him to sacrifice himself to daylight, it must have been to  protect the Amulet of Daylight from another troll. Only one came to mind. Bular the Butcher.

Liz scans through her surroundings for any signs of the Gumm-Gumm prince, but is nowhere to be seen. Glancing at the sun, she believes Bular to be long gone. However, she knows she has to keep the Amulet of Daylight safe before it gets into the wrong hands and so she makes her way down the slope of the canal.

Before Liz could make her way to the bottom, a black-hair boy with a blue helmet, jacket, jeans and bike appeared in her peripheral vision landing and sliding down the side slope of the canal. Quickly, she hid atop the steel frames supporting the bridge above her, letting the shadows cloak her from view. The blue-boy stops at the bottom with his back facing Liz, and calls out, "Come on, Tobes!"

Glancing back to the spot where the boy came from, another boy approaches. A short, chubby boy with orange-red hair tucked underneath a white helmet with orange stripes in the middle, wearing a red sweater vest over a yellow button-up shirt, brown pants, and white shoes. This boy must be "Tobes."

The poor boy was gasping, trying to catch his breath, but then he started rolling down the slope, passing by the blue-boy, to the opposite slope, only to slide back down to the bottom of the canal, to where he fell on the ground.

That was when Liz notices the blue-boy laying down his bike, removing his helmet and heading towards a stone pile on the other side of the bridge with his friend following behind him. Her brow furrowed as she watched the blue-boy approach the stone pile asking his friend if he heard a voice only for them to scream and fall back in surprise when a voice called out. "James Lake."

Liz's eyes widened and jaw dropped, recognizing Kanjigar's voice. It can't be. He's calling for-

"That! That pile of rocks knows my name," said the blue-boy whose name is James Lake crawls toward said pile and finds the Amulet of Daylight. As James analyzes the amulet closely, Tobes looks around shouting, "Who's doing this? Come out now!"

Not wanting to be seen, Liz tucks herself further in the shadows. This is not good. Not good at all. The Amulet of Daylight has chosen it's next champion. A human!

Suddenly a school bell rings from the distance, breaking Liz's thoughts and alerting the two boys below her. The boys quickly ran for their bikes and headed towards the direction of the school. Not wanting to be late either, especially on her first day, Liz had no choice, but to leave behind the crumbled corpse of her mentor knowing that Blinky will take care of him as she gets on her bike and races to school.

Hello there!

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I'm new to the writing-your-own-stories business on Tumblr, so this is my very first fanfiction.

If you are interested in reading more, click on the links provided below!

This fanfiction story will be posted on Wattpad, Archive of Our Own, and Tumblr . However, Wattpad will serve as the original site for this story, so the latest updates will be there.

While reading, feel free to leave a comment [keep it negative-free, would you? thanks :)] or critique. I appreciate the feedback. And along the way, if you like the journey so far, leave a star, a kudos, or/and heart to vote! If you have any questions, feel free to ask as well and I'll do my best to answer without giving any spoilers ;)

Again, thank you for taking the time to read this and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

Happy reading!

- Miss_Nightingale

Masterlist | Next Chapter

[canary-prince]

Tourists: Yo why is Michigan Like That?

Sociologists: Culture blend from French Immigrants, the Indigenous Populations, displaced Southern black people moving on the underground railroad and later fleeing Jim Crow states, and the wave of South and West Asian immigrants being brought in by the Big Three motor companies. Michigan has unique culture rooted in its industry...which is now failing before their very eyes.

Historians: The Race Riots and the White Flight left irreparable intergenerational scars on the psyche of all black Michiganders but that impact is not discussed in schooling or in polite society AT ALL.

Economists: The fall of Detroit from the "Paris of the Midwest" to one of the most impoverished and dangerous cities in America has created a sense of doom and hopeless and, for some, shame. This is worsened by the wealth gap present in Michigan; right beside Flint and Ypsilanti and Detroit we have Royal Oak and Grosse Pointe and West Bloomfield.

Doctors and Psychologists: Michigan is one of the cloudiest places in the WORLD and every Michigan resident has a SEVERE vitamin D deficiency. Depression runs rampant and, due to the above mentioned poverty, malnutrition is pretty common too.

Parapsychologists: The Great Lakes are filled with ghosts and monsters and the forests are all cursed. The entire land mass is a liminal space and even the "new" houses are haunted. Even if you don't believe in this stuff, the atmosphere is conductive to "paranormal" experiences and that permeates the culture of the state.

Mycologists: The largest mushroom colony in the world grows under both peninsulas and there's a distinct possibility that every Michigan resident is microdosing on mildly hallocenigenic spores.

[oakdrivingschoolcouk]

Intensive Driving Courses in UK

Introduction:

Setting out on the path to become a competent and self-assured driver is an exciting undertaking. For those seeking a rapid and efficient path to obtaining their driver's license, Oak Driving School proudly presents its intensive driving courses in Airdrie, Bellshill, Blantyre, Bothwell, Coatbridge, Hamilton, Motherwell, Uddingston, and Wishaw. These specially designed programs offer a fast-track to driving proficiency, allowing learners to master the rules of the road and gain confidence behind the wheel in a condensed timeframe.

Mastering the Road

Embarking on the journey to become a skilled and confident driver is an exciting endeavor. For those seeking a rapid and efficient path to obtaining their driver's license, Oak Driving School proudly presents its intensive driving courses in Airdrie, Bellshill, Blantyre, Bothwell, Coatbridge, Hamilton, Motherwell, Uddingston, and Wishaw. These specially designed programs offer a fast-track to driving proficiency, allowing learners to master the rules of the road and gain confidence behind the wheel in a condensed timeframe.

The Need for Speed Intensive Driving Courses Explained

Intensive driving courses have gained popularity for their ability to streamline the learning process, providing a swift and effective route to obtaining a driver's license. The essence of these courses lies in their concentrated structure, compressing traditional learning timelines into a shorter, more focused period.

Since each student is different, we at Oak Driving School have created our intensive courses to accommodate a variety of learning preferences. Whether you're a quick learner looking to get things done quickly or you're pressed for time, our intense courses provide an adaptable option without sacrificing the caliber of training.

Tailored Learning Airdrie's Unique Intensive Driving Experience

In Airdrie, Oak Driving School takes pride in its personalized approach to intensive driving courses.We acknowledge that every learner has unique requirements and preferences. To guarantee that you receive the most efficient and customized teaching possible, our knowledgeable instructors modify the curriculum to fit your preferred learning method.

The testimonials from students who have flourished in the intense environment speak volumes about our approach's effectiveness. Airdrie learners not only master the necessary skills but also gain the confidence to navigate diverse road conditions with ease.

Accelerated Progress Bellshill's Fast-Track Driving Mastery

In Bellshill, Oak Driving School offers a fast-track to driving mastery. We understand the importance of breaking down the curriculum for quick comprehension while maintaining the highest standards of instruction. Our intensive courses focus on both theory and practical lessons, ensuring learners not only pass the test but become safe and confident drivers.

Tips for maximizing the benefits of an intensive course include active participation in practical lessons, consistent practice between sessions, and open communication with our instructors. Bellshill learners can expect accelerated progress without compromising the depth of knowledge gained.

Blantyre's Express Lane to Confidence: Oak's Intensive Courses

Blantyre learners can explore Oak Driving School's structured and supportive intensive driving programs. We emphasize a balanced approach, addressing both technical and situational awareness aspects of driving. Mock tests and assessments play a crucial role in boosting confidence, allowing learners to become familiar with the test format and overcome test-related stress.

Both theory and practical lessons are integrated seamlessly to provide a comprehensive learning experience. Oak's commitment to creating a safe and supportive learning environment ensures that Blantyre learners embark on their driving journey with confidence and competence.

Bothwell's Intensive Course Specials

In Bothwell, Oak Driving School stands out with its unique teaching methodologies. Our instructors bring a wealth of expertise and are committed to student success. Bothwell learners benefit from a curriculum that goes beyond the basics, incorporating specialized modules to address common challenges faced by learners.

Testimonials from past students highlight the effectiveness of Oak's intensive courses in Bothwell. The success stories showcase not only the efficiency of the courses but also the enduring skills and knowledge imparted by our experienced instructors.

Coatbridge's Shortcut to Driving Proficiency

Coatbridge learners choosing Oak Driving School for intensive courses can expect a balanced and effective approach to driving proficiency. Understanding the delicate balance between speed and quality instruction, Oak ensures that learners progress rapidly while maintaining a thorough understanding of road rules and safe driving practices.

Our comprehensive theory lessons, integrated hazard perception training, and practical sessions contribute to creating confident and responsible drivers in Coatbridge. Oak's approach caters to the unique needs of learners, ensuring a smooth transition from novice to proficient driver.

Hamilton's Rapid Path to Independence

Hamilton learners can break free from traditional learning timelines with Oak Driving School's rapid path to independence. The course schedule is designed to accommodate Hamilton's diverse learner base, providing flexibility without compromising the quality of instruction.

Addressing common concerns and misconceptions about intensive learning, our instructors guide Hamilton learners through theory lessons, practical training, and hazard perception. Oak's intensive courses in Hamilton are a testament to our commitment to delivering high-quality instruction in a condensed timeframe.

Motherwell's Fast-Track Driving Skills

In Motherwell, Oak Driving School focuses on fast-tracking driving skills without compromising safety. Our intensive courses prepare learners for real-world driving scenarios, emphasizing the importance of practical skills and responsible driving habits.The structured nature of Motherwell's intensive programs ensures that learners progress systematically, building on their skills with each session. Oak's approach aligns with national driving standards, producing competent and responsible drivers who confidently navigate the roads of Motherwell.

Intensive Training at Oak

Uddingston learners can take the quick route to confidence with Oak Driving School's intensive training programs. Understanding the psychology of intensive learning, our instructors focus not only on skill development but also on building confidence behind the wheel.

Tips for managing stress and anxiety during accelerated learning are incorporated into the curriculum, ensuring that Uddingston learners not only master driving skills but also enjoy the journey to becoming independent drivers.

Wishaw's Express Driving Proficiency

In Wishaw, Oak Driving School offers express driving proficiency through its specialized curriculum in intensive courses. The modules are designed to address common challenges faced by learners, ensuring a comprehensive understanding of driving principles.

Tailoring instruction to the specific needs of Wishaw learners, Oak Driving School stands out with its commitment to delivering high-quality, relevant, and valuable content. The specialized curriculum sets the stage for success, preparing learners for the challenges they may encounter on the roads of Wishaw.

Frequently Askked Question FAQs:

Q1: Are intensive driving courses suitable for everyone?

Addressing the eligibility criteria and considerations for choosing an intensive program.

Q2: How long do intensive driving courses at Oak Driving School typically last?

Providing an overview of the duration options available and factors influencing course length.

Q3: Will I receive the same level of instruction in an intensive course as in traditional lessons?

Clarifying the quality of instruction and personalized attention provided in intensive settings.

Q4: Can I choose the location for my intensive driving course?

Discussing the flexibility offered by Oak Driving School in selecting course locations.

Q5: What happens if I fail the practical test after completing an intensive course?

Outlining the options and support available for learners who may not pass on their first attempt.

Conclusion:

In conclusion, Oak Driving School's intensive driving courses stand as a testament to our commitment to delivering top-tier instruction, tailored to the individual needs of learners across Airdrie, Bellshill, Blantyre, Bothwell, Coatbridge, Hamilton, Motherwell, Uddingston, and Wishaw. With a focus on speed, safety, and success, our programs offer a unique opportunity for aspiring drivers to quickly and confidently navigate the road to independence. Join us on this accelerated journey to driving proficiency and experience the Oak difference.

[lindabrooksschoolofmotoring]

Finding the Right Driving Instructor in Blackburn?

Introduction:

Anyone's life should include learning to drive as a significant objective. Whether you're an adult ready to get new skills or a young child worried to get on the road, a knowledgeable and patient driving instructor may make all the difference. To build your self-assurance and sense of responsibility behind the wheel, finding the top driving instructor in the busy town of Blackburn is a crucial first step.

Why Choosing the Right Driving Instructor Matters

Choosing a driving instructor isn't just about learning how to operate a vehicle; it's about developing safe driving habits that will stay with you for life. A skilled instructor can instill confidence, teach defensive driving techniques, and help you navigate the unique challenges of Blackburn's roads. Here's why the right instructor matters:

Personalized Guidance

Every learner is unique, with different strengths and areas needing improvement. A professional driving instructor tailors lessons to match your learning style, ensuring that you receive the guidance you need to succeed.

Confidence Building

Learning to drive can be daunting, especially for first-timers. A patient and encouraging instructor creates a positive learning environment that builds your confidence gradually, allowing you to overcome any anxiety you might have about driving.

Patient Tips for Success

Learning to drive, especially for novices, may be a nerve-wracking experience. A knowledgeable driving teacher may ease trainees' fear by being understanding of their feelings and by offering calm, patient assistance.

Positive and lasting Impact

A professional driving instructor not only teaches the necessary technical abilities, but also instills lifelong driving responsibility. Their impact helps Blackburn become a safer driving community.

Road Familiarity

Blackburn's roads have their own quirks and challenges. An experienced local instructor knows the ins and outs of the area, preparing you for specific road conditions, traffic patterns, and common driving challenges.

Qualities of a Great Driving Instructor

When searching for a driving instructor in Blackburn, keep an eye out for these essential qualities that set apart the best from the rest:

Professionalism

A reputable driving instructor maintains a professional performance at all times. They are punctual, organized, and treat every student with respect.

Patience

Learning to drive is a process that takes time. A patient instructor understands this and is willing to work at your pace, helping you grasp concepts without feeling rushed.

Communication Skills

Clear communication is key to effective learning. An excellent instructor explains complex concepts in simple terms, making it easier for you to understand and apply them on the road.

Adaptability

Not every learner progresses at the same rate. An adaptable instructor recognizes your strengths and weaknesses, adjusting their teaching methods accordingly to ensure your steady progress.

How to Choose the Right Driving Instructor in Blackburn

It's crucial to choose a driving teacher after doing your research. Here is a step-by-step manual to assist you in finding the ideal fit:

Research and Reviews

Start by researching local driving instructors in Blackburn. Check online reviews and testimonials from previous students. Positive reviews can provide valuable insights into an instructor's teaching style and effectiveness.

Credentials and Experience

Verify the instructor's credentials and experience. A certified instructor with a proven track record indicates professionalism and expertise.

Trial Lesson

Many instructors offer trial lessons. Take advantage of this opportunity to gauge their teaching style, your comfort level, and how well you connect with them.

Teaching Approach

Discuss the instructor's teaching approach. Are they focused on safety? Do they emphasize defensive driving techniques? Choose an instructor whose values align with your learning goals.

Availability

Consider your own schedule and the instructor's availability. Flexibility in lesson timings is crucial, especially if you have a busy routine.

FAQs

Q1: What's assessed in the instructional ability test?

The instructional ability test evaluates your teaching skills and how you convey driving concepts.

Q2: Do driving instructors speak multiple languages?

Many instructors offer lessons in multiple languages to accommodate diverse learners.

Q3: How do driving lessons with an instructor work?

Lessons cover skills, road signs, defensive driving, and building confidence.

Q4: Can driving instructors help nervous learners?

Yes, instructors specialize in supporting and building confidence in nervous learners.

Q5: Do instructors teach advanced driving techniques?

Some offer advanced skills like defensive driving and eco-friendly techniques.

Conclusion

Learning to drive is a significant achievement that opens up new opportunities and freedoms. A skilled driving instructor in Blackburn can guide you through this journey, ensuring that you become a responsible and confident driver. Remember to prioritize qualities like professionalism, patience, and adaptability when making your choice. With the right instructor by your side, you'll be navigating Blackburn's roads with skill and assurance in no time. Driving teachers in Blackburn are devoted friends on the path to becoming safe drivers, whether it's a youngster taking their first steps toward independence or an adult looking to improve their driving abilities. Their professionalism, knowledge, and dedication are essential in forging a strong driving community that values road courtesy and safety. With the assistance of these knowledgeable instructors, students are well-prepared to traverse Blackburn's roads with assurance and accept the obligations of being a responsible driver.

[iz-bee]

Omg but can you explain anything avant garde or out of the box you HAVE been able to do as a jewler? Id love to hear about this

sure! in high school i made a lot of art pieces that catered towards competitions. my portfolio theme at the time was nature and one piece i made was epaulettes in the shape of oak leaves. they connected over the chest too. they were in a teen exhibit at a local museum. another piece made was a headdress ? kinda? it was a silver band that fit around my head but i had 3d printed flowers and painted them and wrote love quotes on them. those are more of my like narrative/avant garde pieces??? i took glass and kinda melted it together? and made a breastplate type thing that looked like a waterfall

i also made non wearable regular jewelry pieces. i took sticks and cast them (make a mold of them, pour metal into the mold) and made a bracelet, i made a ring that looks like a lake and it’s got cattails on it. my very first jewelry piece is a ring that has a pot on it with a fake plant inside (it was originally a real plant but it won an award and i couldn’t care for the plant bcs it was on display so i needed to get a fake one). i made this HUGE sunflower pendant and it’s kinda hard to explain it without having some sort of knowledge about jewelry techniques but all you need to know is that it’s huge. i cast a pinecone from my first college tour and made a necklace

i had a whole bunch of other ideas i never got to or didn’t complete in high school. i was going to make a shield (to size. like a huge piece of copper) and lattice it? yknow like cut out squares. and stick fake roses in those holes. i wanted to preserve a dead flower i had and make a neck piece that was similar to judgement scales. the other side was going to be motor oil. i wanted to take broken glass from like. beer or wine bottles and connect them to make some sort of broken armor. i wanted to make some sort of lung-looking piece but using cast sticks (for the center) and etched leaves (for the lungs)

my first project in college was to make a set of jewelry. so a necklace, earrings, and a bracelet. but the challenge was to only use cold connections so things like riveting (soldering is a hot connection and most commonly used it’s like. glue ? kinda. it’s hard to explain) and it had to relate to us personally. at the time i was really struggling with anxiety so i etched anxious thoughts onto my piece and bunched up wire to look like those like. angry thought bubble type things (if that makes sense) throughout the piece as well

[bambooslayer]

Scent Headcanons

so my covid/quarantine experience has been marked mainly by two things: indie perfume and the magnus archives. to combine these two interests, I’ve decided to match the “scent vibes” of some magnus characters and the entities. scent headcanons I guess? if those weren’t a thing before they are now. scents that I’ve tried will be marked with a *.

The Institute Staff

Jon- Solstice Scents' Gibbon’s Boarding School: dusty wooden desks, paper, carefully hidden tobacco pouch, dying fire, dried leaves, leather chairs, autumn breeze

This scent really captures the “tired academic” aura of Jon, especially S1-S2. Not quite completely put together, but still surrounded by the scent of knowledge.

Martin- Stereoplasm's Lydia*: A uniquely transformative scent; opens with agrestic lavender and earl grey tea with snips of fresh fennel greens. A flood of soapy emerald green bubbles then rests softly into clean sunset musk.

Martin has a comforting, calming scent. He always, always smells like tea no matter what he wears or does. Hints of soap peak through as he tries to keep himself clean and put together, even if the world is about to end. The scent of someone who’s learned to pull himself together to be ready for everyone else.

Sasha- Alkemia's Old Books and Fresh Flowers*: Fresh neroli orange flowers and heliotrope blossoms pressed between the delicate paper pages of a leather-bound book

Boundless beauty and ancient knowledge in one scent. She’s always sorting through the archive’s resources and constantly smells like the ancient paper surrounding her.

Tim- alphamusk's Bardot*: Gorgeous badass goddess like musk that’s insanely irresistible. Notes of roses, woods, magnolias but all blended so effortlessly and meld together beautifully in this sexy magnetizing musk. Everyone who smells it loves it. Very femme. Iconic.

Who doesn’t love Tim at first sight? A sexy, charismatic, fingergun shooting bisexual who’s always ready to do what he needs to get things done. A scent that blurs the lines between gender fits him, and it’s sexy to match. Even when he’s at his lowest, he still draws you in.

Elias- Alkemia's Book of Shadows*: A biblichor of eldritch books - heavy parchment paper, ancient iron oak gall ink, crumbling leather bindings, and wafts of rare incenses

Jonah Magnus smells of all the cursed knowledge he’s acquired. The statements and ancient books he’s encountered leave their marks on him in scent. You can’t smell the underlying evil, but there’s a certain darkness that lives there.

Basira - Death and Floral’s Red string of fate: Red musk and black, burnt amber blended with golden honey and black molasses

I don’t have a good explanation for this, it just feels right.

Melanie- Death and Floral’s Half-hoping to be eaten by a bear: Woody, sweet bare skin; the lingering scent of dry leaves on a cold morning.

Melanie smells of her supernatural adventures and longing for something more.

Daisy- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab's Mr. Czernobog: Unfiltered cigarettes, the leather and metal of sledgehammers, aortal blood slowly drying, and black incense.

Daisy knows what she’s done. She’s a Hunter, and these smells follow her.

Peter Lukas- Arcana Wildcraft's Black Sand: The scent of a warm night on a dark, sandy beach. Atmospheric sweetness with a hint of salt air and a subtle undercurrent of danger. The richest amber resin, black coconut, coconut husks, and smoky vetiver.

The scent of the loneliest sailor. There’s a dangerous draw to him still, but you can tell you should keep your distance. (unless you’re Elias of course)

The Entities

The Buried- Alkemia’s St. Louis Cemetery #1: “An atmospheric brooding of Spanish moss, crumbling stone, old cement, red clay brick, and graveyard dirt.”  

It’s not quite burying you, but it’s about to. You won’t be able to tell that it will until it’s too late.

The Corruption- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s Elli’s Song: “The horrors of entropy, death, and decay: desiccated black mosses, vetiver, olibanum, patchouli, and ashes.”

Rotting. Decay. The disgusting decomposition of all things.

The Dark- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s Event Horizon: “A disconcerting scent, heavy and oppressive, through which no light, no matter, and no spirit can escape. Black opium, labdanum, opoponax, black orchid, and benzoin.”

Pretty self-explanatory. Complete and utter darkness.

The Desolation- Arcana Wildcraft's Devilish: “Shaking off vanilla's reputation for namby pambyness, this infernally dark and smoky fragrance comes complete with licks of fire and sulfurous wafts of brimstone. The devil really does have all the best scents.”

Was it worth it? The meaningful life you lived? Was it worth meeting this fiery end? A scent to match the end of a life worthwhile.

The End- Alkemia's Dustsceawung: “Dustsceawung is the contemplation of dust, worldly desires, and the ephemerality of all things... raspings that were once a tree, ruins that were once cities, bones that were once lovers. Dust is always the ultimate destination on our journey. The scent of forbidden explorations and an olfactory meditation on dust... attic air, the inside of old trunks, abandoned haylofts, library stacks, and abandoned buildings.”

The death of all things. Everything must succumb to its true form: dust. No matter what you fear, no matter how accomplished you are, no matter what you’ve planned, it will come for all. This scent carries the dust of those already ended, a reminder of your fate.

The Extinction- Alkemia's Deus Ex Machina: “An olfactory portrait of industrial decay and the fallen gods of age of disruption, innovation, and technological revolution... fire hardened steel, rusted iron, motor oil, wet cement, burnt copper wires, and grey amber.”

Mankind has brought itself to the edge. All that it has created is what finally destroys it. Remnants of industry linger, all that’s left of humanity’s monstrosity.

The Eye- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab's The Book: “Old, yellowed parchment paper, tattered leather bindings. There’s a distinct warmth to the scent, though it is ancient and brittle.”

All knowledge lives here. It has watched you your entire life. It knows everything about you, everything about everyone, everything about everyone that has lived. Pages and pages and pages of its stronghold live in the institutes.  

The Flesh- Arcana Wildcraft’s Edward Hyde: “A depraved mix of dirt, blood red musk, roasted meat accord, acrid yellow musk, salt, and an odd hint of expensive men’s cologne.”

Meat. Meat. Meat. Meat is meat. A meaty scent that marks the servants of the flesh.

The Hunt- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s Berzerker: “Thick furs, strips of leather, and a blood-stained axe with crushed poplar bud and juniper”

The Hunt is never over. Once you get a taste of blood, there is no going back. Furs of a predator, the sharp metallic weapon mixed with the blood of your prey.

The Lonely- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s Desolation: “In the perfume, I also tried to capture the blue-violet-white of an afterimage and the silence of a snuffed candle. The scent is dry with age, taut with loss, grief, and heartbreak, and sorrowful in the unspeakable desolation of simply being forgotten.”

Alone at last. Forever. Alone in life, alone in memory, alone in history. A scent that marks those marked by the Lonely, disappearing into nothing.

The Slaughter- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s The Black Tower- “A sepulchral, desolate scent. Long-dead soldiers, oath-bound; the perfume of their armor, the chill wind that surges through their tower, white bone and blackened steel: white sandalwood, ambergris, wet ozone, galbanum and leather with ebony, teak, burnt grasses, English ivy and a hint of red wine.”

The scent of those trapped in the endless cycle of the violence of war, spanning centuries of slaughter.

The Spiral- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s Azathoth: “Azathoth is the blind, idiot god who sits on a black throne at the center of Chaos. His scent is high-pitched and screeching, both impenetrably dark and searingly bright with the clarity of madness: tangerine, saffron, vetiver, black amber and cedarwood.”

A scent that matches the contradictions and chaos of the spiral.

The Stranger- Arcana Wildcraft’s Blood & Circuses: “The monstrously sweet scent of clowns gone wrong. An outlandish, carnivalic mix of white pancake makeup accord, pink cotton candy, and the salty sugariness of warm kettle corn.”

The circus has returned. I hope you’re ready for the show. Steer clear of anyone who carries this smell, and give an extra glance to the mannequins you pass.

The Vast- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s R'Lyeh: “The sunken city of the Great God Cthulhu. A hellishly dark aquatic scent, evocative of fathomless oceanic deeps, the mysteries of madness buried under crushing black waters, and the brooding eternal evil that lies beneath the waves.”

The scent of an eternal expanse that you cannot possibly comprehend. Is it the fear of what lies beneath? Is it the depth itself? Does it matter once you’re lost in it?

The Web- Haus of Gloi’s Spider Silk: “Procured from a dream: delicate water mint, wispy grey musk, crystalline webs of amber, oakmoss, torchwood, copaiba resin, and a touch of withered violet leaf.”

A gentle spider creeps its way around, leaving their little traces in the webs they weave. Only too late will you notice that you’re trapped in the web.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skeleton is late to pick up his kid from school. When he comes there, he sees a man talking with his child, trying to lure them inside their car, and the child is very close from obey. How does he react?

Undertale Sans - He is confused, but prefers not to judge. The child seems so relieved to see him and runs in his arms. Sans just stare at the man for a long time. He smiles creepily at him, goes back in his car and leaves. Sans says nothing to not worry his child, but he won't sleep for three days after that, as he realised he could have lost his child. He's never late ever again either.

Undertale Papyrus - Papyrus screams his child name. The man panicks and grabs the kid to force him in the car. Papyrus jumps in front of the car and grabs the man before he can jump in the car, and then knocks him out. He's out of breath, and shaking, but his kid is safe. Papyrus picks up his kid, calls the police and then goes back into the school. The teacher is going to hear him. What did they think, leaving his kid all alone outside?! He got the scare of his life.

Underswap Sans - Blue is still in service, he came just because S/O couldn't free themself from an important meeting. The guy panicks when he sees the police car and throws the kid on the sidewalk with force. The child bursts in tears. Blue gets down the car and throws the man on the floor. He then handcuffs him and pushes him in the car, arresting him for child abduction attempt and agression. He then comes back for his kid to comfort them and pick them up to go to the police station with him. Blue prefers not to tell S/O about what happened to not worry them.

Underswap Papyrus - His soul stops beating for a few seconds and he runs towards his child, screaming in fear. The man throws the kid in the car and leaves, right at his nose. Honey is having a panic attack, hyperventilating, and begging the car to come back. A concerned woman calls the police to take care of him. Blue won't be long to find the child again as Honey has a very good memory and could describe the man between two sobs. Both the dad and the kid are crying in each other's arms. That was quite traumatising for everyone.

Underfell Sans - "hey you asshole the hell you're doing?!" The man tries to pick the kid to go faster. Red attacks at full speed before he can even put a finger on his kid. He will beat them up in front of his child, before grabbing his kid and teleporting out of there. The kid starts crying in terror. Red hugs him close, relieved everything ended well. He is so angry, he cuddles his kid a long moment to calm down.

Underfell Papyrus - The man only feel a long very sharp bone on his neck and a cold deep voice. "TOUCH THIS CHILD AGAIN AND YOU ARE DEAD. GO IN YOUR CAR AND LEAVE. IF I EVER SEE YOU AGAIN, I WILL KILL YOU." The guy shits his pants and obeys quickly. The kid just smiles in his dad and says they knew he would be there in time. Well, Edge is flattered, but he's also teaching them self defense as soon as he can.

Horrortale Sans - He growls loudly, and gets close like some cat predator, his eye pupils shrinking as he's understanding what's the guy is doing. The man is unsure what to do, but finally decides to slowly back away from the child and leave. Oak throws a huge rock that breaks the back window as a warning message as the guy flees. He then picks up his kid to comfort them and reminds them they shouldn't talk to strangers like this.

Horrortale Papyrus - Willow screams in panick. The man quickly starts the car. He just didn't expect Willow to throw himself in the way, stopping the car with his bare hands. Willow punches the bonnet, breaking the motor in the hit. The man begs for mercy as Willow drags him out of the car and pins him to a wall. He calls the police right away, and screams at the man all the time waiting for them. When the police comes, the man is screaming like a baby, begging the police officers to take him away. Willow can finally let go and pick up his child, who is curled up in the backseat of the man's car, crying in fear. Willow takes them to have some ice cream after this. He needs one too.

Swapfell Sans - He picks his kid with his blue magic and gently puts them in his car. "Wait for me dear, I'm coming in a second." He then dye the windows to blind the kid. He comes back to the man, takes out his gun and shoots him in the knee. The man screams in agony of the sidewalk, Nox simply smiles, happy his message got well received and leaves with this child. Here you go.

Swapfell Papyrus - Rus panicks and screams the first thing that passes in his head. "kid! kicks him in the balls!" The kid looks at him in fear, then executes himself. The man falls on the ground, crying in pain. Rus snatches his child and runs out of here as fast as he can, the soul beating so fast he thinks it's going to explose. What the hell. Nox was right, his kid really needs to learn basic fighting. He can't do this a second time.

Fellswap Gold Sans - The guy manages to put the kid in the car, but he didn't expect Wine to shoot the wheels of the car. One explode and the car hits the wall of the school. Ok, his kid is a bit hurt, and terrified, but they're scared so who cares. Wine is not exactly the model dad you know. Stop crying, brat, he just saved your life. He swears kids are so ungrateful these days.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Coffee is very silent. He doesn't know why he thought it was a good idea, but he jumped in the car as well, and the guy started driving, not noticing him. Now Coffee is as panicked as his kid and wondering how the hell they're going to get out of this shitty situation. Oh! He knows. He sends a text to Wine. "got kidnapped. can you help?" Obviously, not two seconds later, Wine calls back screaming "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU GOT KIDNAPPED?!" The man jumps in surprise, then screams when he notices Coffee. He stops the car and runs away in fear. There's a long silence. "um... i think i got unkidnapped now, thanks anyway." He hangs up before Wine can say anything. Oh well, guess they have a new car. He drives home with it.

[scapegrace74-blog]

Lie Alone

A/N  In commenting on the last installment in the Metric universe, I said that Jamie’s date with Claire was complete dating wish fulfillment on my part.  Which got me thinking about their next date and what other personal preferences I could cram into this story.  And yet it’s definitely Claire’s turn to take Jamie for a spin, which meant that... well, you’ll see!

All other parts of the Metric Universe are available on my AO3 page.

The song by Blanco White (another guest artist!) that inspired the title and which features in the fic can be heard here: https://youtu.be/SNp7sb5vXTs

Big shout out to @holdhertightandsayhername, who introduced me to this artist in her marvelous fic The Sands of Time.  

June 21, 2018, London, England

Sassench:  Do you have plans later Fraser?

Wee Fox Cub:  depends r u making a better pffer?

Sassench: Meet me out front at Joe’s.  5pm.

Wee Fox Cub: :thumbs up emoji:

Sassench:  And Jamie?  Wear something tight.  Preferably leather.

Wee Fox Cub:  ...

***

He couldn’t imagine what Claire had in mind, but he’d cancelled his plans to watch the England South Africa test match with the lads and was instead haunting the kerb in front of her temporary lodging, wearing fitted black jeans and his leather jacket, despite the sunny mid-summer weather.  When his date hadn’t emerged from the building by 4:05, he pulled out his phone.  An approaching mechanical thrum interrupted him mid-text.

The first thing he noticed were her boots: black, with a thick rubber sole and chunky heel.  These were zipped over leather pants that clung to her coltish legs like a second skin, matching the matte gleam of the motor between them.  A leather jacket, the tailored twin of his own, hugged her narrow waist.  By the time his eyes had scrolled upward, a visored helmet was being removed, and Claire’s familiar hair and teasing brass eyes appeared.

“You’re staring, Jamie,” she remarked.  The fact that the voice was his roommate’s usual no-nonsense tone, seasoned with a touch of humour, was a necessary dash of reality.  

“Aye,” he admitted.  “Tis a verra beautiful... machine ye’re ridin’, Sassenach.  Is it yers?”

Her curls danced in the sunlight as she shook them out.

“God, no.  Joe only let me borrow it after I promised to cover his next two on-call shifts.  But don’t worry!  I practically grew up on a motorcycle.  I’ve had my license since I was sixteen.”

He filed this information away in the cluttered part of brain entitled Things I Never Expected to Learn about Claire Beauchamp. Accepting a second helmet, he swung himself onto the seat behind her.  His legs bracketed her hips in an unfamiliar, but by no means unpleasant, inversion.  Claire revved the motor, sending a shiver up his spine.  His arms wrapped around her waist, and they pulled into the slow flow of traffic.

“Comfy?”  Her voice startled him, low and intimate, coming from directly behind his ear.   He realized belatedly that the helmets were furnished with a communications system.

“Aye,” he asserted, although comfortable wasn’t exactly the word he’d use for his current state.  Somewhere between apprehensive and exhilarated would be more accurate.  “Will we make it tae our destination afore sundown, do ye think?”

She chuckled warmly, reaching back with one hand to tap him on the knee.

“Never you fear, my lad.  I have our urban escape route all planned out.  We’ll be flying in no time.”

She wasn’t wrong.  After a series of abrupt stops and starts, they dipped below the Thames in a well-lit tunnel, the echo of passing lorries muting all other sound.  Soon after that they were picking up speed on a wide motorway, the bike crouching against the wind.  He watched the throbbing mass of the city peel away, slowly giving way to greenery and the pastel light he associated with freedom.  He thought they were heading south along the Orbital into Surrey, but beyond that he had no notion of their whereabouts.  

Giving himself up into her care, he settled against Claire’s back, the crescent of her arse fitting neatly into the bowl of his thighs.  He was aware of being aroused, but it was a hazy rather than a sharp feeling, blunted by contentment.  If Claire was offended by the firmness pressing into her rump, she gave no sign.

After several hours of almost meditative motion, they turned onto a country lane, overhung by a leafy canopy.  Tidy Tudor buildings overlooked the road, their leaden windows glowing orange in the setting sun.   Their motorcycle joined a parade of vehicles ascending a low hill in a series of sharp turns.  Each time the bike navigated one of these, he was forced to tighten his grip on Claire’s torso, which by now felt like an extension of his own body.  He glowed like one of those panes of glass, molten and reflecting back the warmth that radiated from the core of who she was.  

The forest thinned into green hillside as they reached a parking lot.  He couldn’t help but feel disappointment as he observed the crowds.  Wherever they were, it was obviously a popular destination.  On the bike, he’d felt peculiarly isolated, alone with Claire, their conversation eased by the intermediary of the microphones.  Now he’d have to share her with the world.

He groaned as he unfolded his long legs to stand upright, and Claire grinned.

“They don’t make motorcycles in your size, I’m afraid.”

“An’ wha’ size is that, Sassenach?” he hummed suggestively while stretching his arms high above his head, untucking his shirt in the process.

Claire’s eyes dipped to where his belly was briefly exposed, then lower.

“Large,” was her bold answer, and he shot her a wickedly pleased glance.

After a beat she visibly gathered herself, reaching into the storage compartment behind where he had been sitting and pulling out a small bag and his plaid, which had somehow stayed in her possession after the fire.

“Are you up for a short hike?”

“For ye, Sassenach, anything.”

They meandered through an oak wood, then up a series of crude steps, until finally arriving on a grassy slope, the land falling away steeply to the south.  Low ridges and shallow valleys furled below them like gentle waves, reaching out to the horizon where the sun was preparing to set.  The air was fragrant, the ground releasing the heat of the day.

“One of my many boarding schools wasn’t far from here,” Claire explained as she spread the blanket near their feet.  “I must have been fourteen or so, and having a terrible time fitting in.  Uncle Lamb came to visit, probably at the headmaster’s behest, and this is where he took me.  I don’t remember what he said, but by the time we left, I felt better.  More at peace.  In lockstep with the larger order of things.   I’ve come back, now and then.  Any time I needed to find that feeling again.”

As she spoke, Claire emptied the small bag of its contents.  He recognized the logo from a deli they both frequented on two wrapped sandwiches, along with a pint of strawberries, some crisps, a lemonade and a bottle of his favourite summer ale.  She’d thought of everything, and it snagged at his heart.

“Tis bonnie.  I’m honoured ye wanted tae share it with me, Sassenach.”

They ate slowly, savouring the simple meal as the sky above their heads smudged from orange to pink to ever-deepening shades of purple.  One by one, the stars twinkled to life, like so many travelers lighting their fires for the night.  Away from the city, they numbered in the thousands, each a signpost on someone’s journey.  His mind spread out to fill the space between them, taking his thoughts to Lallybroch, moments from his youth long forgotten, the steadying hand of his parent’s guidance.  Claire was right.  Something about the place invited serenity.  He sighed with pleasure, tension he hadn’t even acknowledged draining slowly down his spine.

Claire’s hand crept across the blanket, and their pinkie fingers met, then overlapped.  As the air around them cooled, the breeze picked up, and he felt her shiver.

“Ye’re cold.  We should be on our way, aye?”

“Wait.  There’s one more thing I want you to see.”

He could think of several more things he wanted to see, but they were well hidden by leather and her guarded nature.  He’d known when he proposed this season of courtship that the road to Claire’s heart would be long and arduous, with many twists and lay-bys.  There could be no rushing the voyage.  He was confident the destination, should he be granted entry, would be worth any hardship.  And thankfully the views along the way were spectacular in their own right.

He’d been watching her profile out of the corner of his eye when the horizon burst into multi-coloured song.  Purple starbursts and red streamers exploded across a black canvas, followed by a pulsing yellow orb.  In the milliseconds before his consciousness caught up with the evidence, he was captivated.  Then he physically recoiled, expecting pain in the form of a cascade of memories.  Instead, the symphony of light continued without a sound.  He looked at Claire in awe.

“The wind is to the north, so it’s blowing the sound in the other direction.  I checked before I picked you up,” she explained.

The fireworks continued for another ten or fifteen minutes.  He’d never be quite sure, because he was lost in sensation.  The beautiful display was completely over-shadowed by the beauty of the woman beside him, her tiny finger still laced with his own.  

“Ye ken tis I who’s supposed tae be courtin’ ye, don’t ye, Sassenach?” he commented when a final fury of light gave way once again to stars.

“Says who?” she sniffed, but he could see the corner of her mouth twitch upwards.  

After performing a mental inventory of any and all physical impediments, he leaned slowly into her side, his intention unmistakable.  His heart thrilled when Claire met him halfway, her mouth damp and tart from the lemonade.  It was a kiss that walked the boundary between chaste and sensual, and he wished it could last forever.

“Thank ye, Claire.  Truly.”

At a loss for words for once, she dipped her head in acknowledgement.  They silently gathered their things and walked hand-in-hand to the bike.

The ride back to London was swift, with music taking the place of conversation.  A particularly beautiful song, poetic and wistful, left him feeling that Claire was speaking to him through its words; words she could not yet find the courage to say.  Accompanied by only a single guitar, a male voice rose in wistful intensity.

So I lie alone, and risk each night, I long to let you in But there's a life I lost, drifted out, before You let me in.

His fingers found their way beneath her jacket and rested on the warm skin of her belly.  He felt her soft skin give a shudder, like a ripple of wind across the still surface of a pond.

The motorway ribboned out beneath them.  The journey had only just begun.

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Because this is a multi-disciplinary blog, here’s a shot of the view that Jamie and Claire enjoyed in this fic, which is Box Hill in Surrey (taken from Google Earth, as I’ve never been).

And here’s Claire’s bike!