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takingback-thepenguin · 2 years

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Headless Sentence Starters: Episodes 1-3

I'm not sure if anyone else has done this, but here is a list of sentence starters taken from episodes 1, 2, and 3 of Shipwrecked’s web-series, Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Story. Some of the lines have been edited to fit as sentence starters, and feel free to change pronouns/add names/etc as you see fit. Tw: Death, alcohol/drinking, violence mention, general tws that go with The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

Episode 1: The Local Legend

“Deep in the forest where the ghouls haunt and wallow. There’s a town by the name of Sleepy Hollow.”

“It’s drowsy and dreamy and filled with dread.”

“Be wary of all those things dead!”

“Just when you’re sure you’re safe asleep in your bed. You might come across a fellow who’s lost his head.”

“Please, no. No!”

“Welcome new friend to our dear Sleepy Hollow.”

“A ghost or a witch might give you a follow.”

“There are so many haunts in the weird coterie that make up this mysterious town’s history.”

“Uh…interesting!”

“I just needed directions.”

“It’s past the cemetery and to the left, you can’t miss it.”

“Well, no, no. You could miss it. You’ll just be in a cursed bog.”

“Aw man!”

“You’re rather late.”

“Are you _____?”

“I’m _____, your new tenant.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“You’re smaller in person.”

“How did you know that?”

“I hacked into Instagram and saw your photos.”

“You mean you logged into Instagram?”

“After ten is quiet hours…ten AM.”

“If you get locked out, I don’t care.”

“No pets.”

“The last tenant had a snake, and I still haven’t found it.”

“I’m allergic to basically every animal.”

“Since you’re late, I’m raising your rent.”

“Two thousand? We agreed on twelve hundred!”

“Pay with personal check only.”

“I don’t even remember the last time I used a personal check.”

“Cash is fine but there’s a cash fee.”

“Usually cash is the cheaper option.”

“When you’re a wealthy landlord with incredible hair, you can make your own rules.”

“The mayor’s assistant left this for you.”

“It’s an invite to the mayor’s annual autumn gala.”

“Wow, I’ve never met a mayor before.”

“You’re getting bog water on the rug.”

“I can’t afford that!”

“Get a roommate.”

“You look like you could use some company.”

“You think you could help me?”

“Sorry, no free hands.”

“Fake book. Good for storing the still-beating hearts of your enemies. Or your inhaler.”

“Can I get you anything? Coffee? Beer? Surge?”

“I thought this was a drugstore.”

“I just wanted to put up a flyer on your bulletin board.”

“What’s up?”

“This guy/gal/person needs help. And I hate him/her/them.”

“Got an improv show to advertise?”

“I just wanted to hang up this flyer.”

“_____, huh. Sounds made up.”

“Well, in a way, every name is made up.”

“So _____, what brings you to town?”

“I’m the new _____ science teacher.”

“The last one disappeared under mysterious circumstances. At least, that’s the story they’re going with.”

“What do you think happened?”

“I think he/she/they got sick…of Sleepy Hollow…and left. Cause he’s/she’s/they’re an adult, and he/she/they can do what he/she/they want(s).”

“Not everything that happens here is the result of some curse.”

“I just wish I could’ve talked to him/her/them before I started. ‘Get a lay of the land, you know? Maybe someone to show me around town?”

“Hmm…that would’ve been so nice.”

“I guess I could talk to the mayor about it.”

“I got an invite to the mayor’s annual autumn gala. No big deal.”

“How impressive.”

“Let me check the invitation and see if I have a plus one.”

“Be sure to use it on someone who wants to go.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I have some very important work to do.”

“Wait, I didn’t get your name.”

“Be sure and take advantage of the open bar. The mayor can afford it.”

“How do I look?”

“You must be _____!”

“I’m so glad you got my invite!”

“Look at your tie, it’s so straight!”

“Let me introduce you to your new neighbors.”

“I know I’m looking at the camera. It’s called a choice.”

“They did immediately recast him/her/them.”

“Tell them about craft services!”

“Oh, you’ve never seen such fruits.”

“You know this ray of sunshine.”

“This is your new landlord.”

“Will you fetch me a frosé?”

“You catfished me too!”

“It’s not my fault I had never seen a picture of Bonnie Hunt before.”

“This is great. I’ve been meaning to see someone about my knees.”

”It’s always ‘look at this, _____. Diagnose me, _____.’ It’s never ‘how are you, _____?’”

“I thought you said it was a kids theater.”

“Actually I’ll be _____ next month. It’s scary.”

“Oh it’s scary alright.”

“One time I saw Millie Bobby Brown at an audition…and she looked at me.”

“Oh my God a mayor knows my name.”

“I brought you something.”

“It’s my homemade garlic aioli mayo.”

“I call this one mayor-nnaise.”

“I heard you were the star teacher back in Hartford.”

“How are we so lucky as to nab you?”

“I sprayed it everywhere.”

“It’s the theme of the party.”

“That’s honestly pretty basic of you but go on.”

“Let me introduce you to one of your future coworkers.”

“We all just did shots instead.”

“Let’s do shots! Let’s do shots!”

“I got extra bones.”

“It’s a genetic thing, it’s no big deal. It’s honestly pretty cool.”

“Science teacher? Finally!”

“That means I don’t have to sub anymore.”

“Science…can anybody tell me what this is?”

“Can anybody please tell me about science?”

“I’m sure you’ll show _____ a good time. But not too good.”

“Excuse me.”

“…Shot?”

“Oh…um…maybe another time.”

“Split it evenly! Split it evenly!”

“Did your invite include VIP patio access?”

“Sorry…I just wanted to say hi.”

“Hey, you’re the mean girl/guy/person from the drugstore.”

“It’s not a drugstore.”

“I’d say don’t mind her/him/them…but you should. She’s/He’s/They’re a witch. Like, for real.”

“Can you cast a spell?”

“I wouldn’t drink that, it’s probably poisoned.”

“So _____, if that is your real name.”

“Did you google that before?”

“I'm a Bingsman. Bing-man. I bi- I'm- I Bing. I use Bing.”

“Are you from here, originally speaking?”

“I went to college, but it wasn’t for me.”

“Here I am pursuing my dreams of serving beer at not-a-drugstore.”

“I dunno…I just…wanted to see the world.”

“You wanted to see the world so you came to Sleepy Hollow?”

“You’re a bad liar _____.”

“Before _____ got me a job at the drugstore, I worked at the bowling alley. But the hours sucked.”

“If we are out of fireball downstairs, we are out of it everywhere.”

“Don’t let him/her/them near your gas stove.”

“_____, and I have already met.”

“Your dad introduced us.”

“How did you do that?”

“I took a master class on pressure points once.”

“_____ is your dad?”

“That’s what he/she/they tell(s) me.”

“It’s gonna be tight having someone who actually knows science teaching science again.”

“I’m more of a history ‘spurt. Short for expert.”

“I also get wacky with language arts.”

“I know every ghost, ghoul, and haunted hayride in this town.”

“That’s not really history, _____.”

“Oh yeah? And what is history?”

“Do you think that I do not have emperor evidence?”

“_____, do you have any idea what the word evidence means?”

“It means fun stories that support my opinion.”

“Do you know about the Headless Horseman?”

“Oh come on. Don’t start with this Horseman crap.”

“Who’s the Headless Horseman?”

“He’s/She’s/They’re the ultimate shark.”

“You should be vigilant walking home tonight.”

“It’s foggy as all fugg.”

“The evidence supporting supernatural phenomena is slim.”

“Oh, righteous bruh. A septic.”

“This whipped cream is unusual.”

“Eff that guy/girl/person.”

“Did anybody write it down?”

“I gave you those Moleskine notebooks for Christmas and for what?”

“You should have seen your face! You were like ‘oh no!’”

“I knew it was you. You’re wearing Sperrys.”

“Oh hey, that’s pretty. You should wear that.”

“Oh my God!”

Episode 2: The Ghosts in the Graveyard

“I let you sing your song. Will you please leave?”

“You're approved for a home loan, buddy! Did you know?”

“I have some questions.”

“What's your name?”

“You don't remember?”

“You can't pass on.”

“The longer it's missing...the more you forget.”

“I don't know where it is. I cant even find my keys most mornings.”

“You left these in the door.”

“Did you find a roommate yet?”

“When he/she/they come(s) back, tell him/her/them to swing by.”

“He'll/She’ll/They’ll love meeting you.”

“You're going to help me pay my rent?”

“Sure! Why not?”

“This is a lot.”

“A welcomed visitor would soon stop by.”

“What? Oh, I don't know.”

“Are you going to eat that?”

“Leave it!”

“Guess you didn't get a seat at the popular table.”

“What brings you to the-to school?”

“Just wanted to make sure the kids weren't being too mean.”

“I'll put them in their place.”

“I believe it.”

“Uh, I was wondering if you would-”

“Do you need me to get going?”

“There was, um...there was a mosquito. Did you not-did you not see it?”

“Wow. These Halloween decorations are getting really expensive.”

“Man! I didn't even get to eat my lunch.”

“Well, good luck with the rest of the day.”

“If you're not busy tomorrow afternoon, swing by the store. Maybe we can hang out.”

“I would love that.”

“See ya.”

“How can I help you?”

“I don't understand chemical versus physical change.”

“My mom says change is change, and it happens whether we want it to or not.”

“Uh, okay, well, I can explain it again.”

“Teachers have first names?”

“When heat is applied to the lemon juice compounds, it creates something new.”

“That is legit!”

“Can I keep that?”

“Do you have a full name?”

“Okay, that's too much name.”

“_____, we need to talk.”

“How else am I supposed to zest the salmon?”

“You don't need to zest salmon. It's a very flavorful f-ahhhh! Skeleton!”

“This is what I'm talking about.”

“I can't keep walking around with a headless roommate.”

“He's/She’s/They’re scary.”

“I don't actually get scared, but sure.”

“Bonkers idea, bro/sis/sib, but maybe _____ could help us?”

“She/He/They might actually be able to get us a real head.”

“She/He/They can't just wave a magic wand and attach a head to him/her/them.”

“I'II just wave a magic wand and attach a head to him/her/them.”

“You're not in shock over what's happening here?”

“That's like, basically my motto.”

“Wow. You really are a witch?”

“Why do you work...here?”

“I'm saving to open my own occult shop.”

“I'II do tarot readings, make specialized potions and tinctures.”

“Guess you're my first customer.”

“I'm not wearing my culling robes.”

“She/He/They crawled out of my TV.”

“Would you fetch your boyfriend/girlfriend/partner?”

“She'll/He’ll/They’ll be right back.”

“Is this your mom?”

“Stop looking at that.”

“I'm here to inspect the exits for tomorrow's trivia night.”

“Are your fire extinguishers up to code? You know you should have three, right?”

“_____, you've been here, like, a hundred times. The exits have remained the same.”

“It's just you and one other trivia team. Every trivia night.”

“Hi, I'm _____.”

“Have you not met _____?”

“She/He/They is/are also new in town.”

“Before I came here, I grew up in Kansas City.”

“My hair has always been this color and length.”

“You know this guy/girl/person?”

“Is/Are he/she/they still alive?”

“He's/She’s/They’re just really drunk. Because he's/she’s/they’ve lost his/her/their job at the Ren Faire.”

“It's very- it's very sad. It's very sad.”

“_____ works at the Storms Inn. She/He/They run(s) it.”

“It's haunted as heck.”

“Maybe I'd actually, I don't know, book some rooms if I didn't have some thick calved bozo running around town telling everyone that it's haunted.”

“Dark tourism is very in.”

“I don't care about dark tourism!”

“I care about booking rooms.”

“Please excuse me.”

“She's/He’s/They’re really lovely.”

“She's/He’s/They’re right, though.”

“Storms Inn is one of the oldest buildings in town. Used to be a girls' orphanage.”

“Wow. You'd be a great tour guide.”

“Shut up.”

“Farewell, _____.”

“We will meet again.”

“You never understood our love!”

“Not sure where she/he/they dug this one up, but it is fairly fresh.”

“Get a room!”

“Am I right?”

“_____, go flip the sign.”

“May I?”

“The spell combines the life force of the Horseman with the spirit of whatever skull we choose.”

“The Horseman has now taken on the identity of this man/woman/person.”

“Oh, thank God.”

“I thought I was dead.”

“Oh my God…dad?”

“Wait, you know I love you!”

“I miss my dad so much.”

“I feel like I see him/her/them everywhere.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry, _____.”

“When did he/she/they die?”

“Oh, he's/she’s/they’re not dead, no. He's/She’s/They’re on a cruise.”

“Asphodel is the food of the dead. So it'll help keep the head alive longer.”

“If you could pick someone to help you find the head of a Revolutionary War soldier, who would it be?”

“Another Revolutionary War soldier! Smart!”

“DEADFINDR says that Revolutionary War graves are about two rows up.”

“Someone's coming!”

“Chupacabra!”

“Where are you going?”

“Get back here with my keys right now!”

“Looks like grave robbing. Smells like grave robbing.”

“Oh, h-hi.”

“Once you're on my radar, you start seeing me everywhere.”

“Well, I was just visiting-”

“And I’m just experiencing ‘hair loss due to stress.’”

“You are getting a ticket for trespassing.”

“See you in court on Monday.”

“Court? On Monday?!”

“Whoa. I might have to take you downtown!”

“Thank you.”

Episode 3: The Briny Booty

“Hey! Whoa! Nice umbrella!”

“Pink is not your color.”

“Actually, SPF 50 offers peak UV protection.”

“Hey! You guys ditched me.”

“I got a ticket. I have to go to court!”

“Oh, no. Court's so scawy.”

“What? Stop that.”

“Oh no! _____ got ticky?”

“Why is everyone being mean?”

“I will stab you.”

“While you were whining, I figured it out.”

“I can make the spell last a whole day now. The key was mugwort.”

“We got to get that soldier's head.”

“Trivia night's about to start.”

“_____ can hold down the fort and we can go back to the cemetery.”

“I can't. I told _____ I'd meet her/him/them here...for a date.”

“I got to figure out a fix for _____.”

“She's/He’s/They’re going to be here any minute, and I don't think she's/he’s/they’re into...this.”

“I think he/she/they look(s) great.”

“Is that a real skull?”

“It came with the drugstore.”

“We can try it.”

“Welp, good luck with this. I'm going to the cemetery.”

“No, wait. Don't leave me with these two!”

“Have you ever met a Kraken?”

“I don't do that anymore. There are so many other ways to kill a man.”

“Um...hello?”

“This is my cousin.”

“He/She/They do(es) LAR- He/She/They do(es) LARPing. He/She/They doe-- He/She/They is/are LARP. He/She/They-he/she/they do(es) LARP.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“I think that means get us some drinks.”

“_____. Yeah that sounds about right.”

“Astronomy is probably my favorite branch of science.”

“All the stars in the night sky are the same ones that inspired countless religions, and languages, and navigational systems.”

“It's incredible.”

“My mom was an astronomy nut, actually.”

“We had this huge telescope up on the roof.”

“She'd/He’d/They’d take me up there some mornings before dawn, and we'd eat donuts and look at constellations.”

“Wow. Your mom sounds awesome.”

“Oh, gosh. I'm sorry.”

“It's alright.”

“You want to know why I'm really here?”

“I was actually born here.”

“When my parents passed away, I was sent to live with my grandmother.”

“She/He/They hated Sleepy Hollow.”

“When she/he/they died, she/he/they gave me this.”

“I had so many questions. I guess I just came here for some answers.”

“Get to asking the questions.”

“All my best pals in the same place? This feels like a sitcom!”

“You're on a trivia team?”

“Check it out.”

“She/He/They brought our team up to the next level.”

“She/He/They know(s) a lot about foreign policy.”

“You and _____? Drinking? Talking? Is this a d—”

“Just practice the breathing exercises. In and out, in and out.”

“How could you do this to me? After everything we've been through?”

“We're--we're just hanging out, _____!”

“Even if we weren't, you and I haven't dated for, like, a decade.”

“Who got you your job at the bowling alley?”

“It was gross.”

“Hey, let's get you home.”

“I thought you said he/she/they was/were your cousin?”

“I have a weird family!”

“Is this guy/girl/person bothering you?”

“He/She/They get(s) like this when he's/she’s/they’re drunk. You know, challenging people to duels and, um, having a sword.”

“Okay, let’s go home.”

“Oh, there he/she/they is/are.”

“Where did you go?”

“Took me till sunrise, but I found it.”

“Observe, my sea log!”

“You have to hide.”

“As my first mate commands.”

“Uh, hi. I love that this is happening.”

“Apparently I'm housing a criminal.”

“I am raising your rent. Call it a hooligans tax.”

“You know I can't pay any more.”

“Looks like you have a whole box of delicious goodies here.”

“Ew! Why is everything so dirty?”

“Oh, this is nice!”

“_____’s going to have to put this one in the safe, if you know what I mean.”

“Those jewels belonged to my lover, God rest her/his/their soul.”

#sentence starters #sentence starter prompts #sentence starter meme #rp sentence starters #tw: death #tw: alcohol #tw: violence mention

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frenchpuppycormier · 3 years

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HI ZOË!!! angst #16 for that sentence starter post if you're still up for some writing. i love getting my feelings hurt 🤡

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Then why are there bruises all over your face?"

—

Kara doesn't have a mean bone in her body.

She waves at every animal she sees on her daily walks and patrols at night. She gives and gives to people without expecting anything in return. When someone is having a bad day or just really needs to talk, she listens, even criminals. Most of them aren't any different than the average person, they simply were dealt the wrong hand. She's extremely loyal and doesn't take anything personally. One time, Kara saved a fly that was trapped in a spider's web.

So yeah, Kara doesn't have a mean bone in her body. Which is why today is such an anomaly.

She's in the kitchen still dressed in her navy chinos and baby pink button up with palm trees from when she came home from work. Andrea made her rewrite an article thrice, Jeremy from accounting had broken the copier machine and politely asked for her help in fixing it, she stopped a bank robbery a few blocks down from CatCo when she realized the police wouldn't get there in time, and to top it all off she unwillingly skipped lunch after someone stole her sandwich from the staff fridge.

To say she was exhausted and starving was an understatement. Changing into her pajamas meant she had to walk all the way to the bedroom and Kara was too lazy, even for superspeed.

As she stirs her homemade tomato sauce she taps her phone screen and checks the time. 6:35 pm. Frowning, Kara doesn't see any missed messages or calls from Lena letting her know she's going to be late.

She shrugs to herself and thinks Lena must've gotten caught up in her lab and lost track of time. It happens more often than not, and Kara doesn't think it'll ever change, much to her chagrin. It's bad enough Lena forgets to eat lunch most days, but to continuously forget her phone and watch in her office? Kara knows her wife's a workaholic, but she wasn't aware until now, the fourth night this week, that it was getting this bad.

Kara strains the pasta and cuts the garlic bread while periodically stirring the sauce and checking her phone. She decides to finally turn on some music when the silence of the penthouse becomes too stifling and daunting.

She's in the middle of dancing to ABBA and plating the food when she hears a familiar heartbeat walking down the hall. Kara tries not to listen to it too often—she doesn't want Lena to feel like her privacy has been invaded—but sometimes she can't help it. Her wife's heartbeat is one of the most soothing sounds she's ever heard, and ever since she heard it for the first time, she's just been naturally drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

Kara smiles as she hears it get closer until Lena's opening the door and walking through. "Hey, babe! I'm in the kitchen!" she yells, her energetic voice reverberating throughout the house.

There's no verbal response like there usually is, which is the first warning sign. The second is when Lena walks by—she has to in order to go to their room—it's with quick steps and careful avoidance. But Kara's been able to read her like a book since they've known each other, and she knows something's amiss by the way Lena doesn't even greet her with a kiss. She always does.

"Lena?"

Her wife stops frozen in her tracks, head angled down, hair covering her face like a curtain. Lena's heart ticks up a beat, leaving Kara wildly concerned.

"Lena?" she steps around the island and stands in front of her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she mumbles.

Kara tilts her head to make eye contact, but Lena moves her head so she can't. "Then why won't you let me look at you?"

"It's nothing, I-I'm fine."

"And why does that not convince me?" Kara sighs. Lena doesn't move a muscle and she keeps quiet. "Are you hurt?"

"No." She still shows no signs of moving. It's like she's decided her next career move is becoming one of those marble sculptures at the museum people love to gawk at.

"Lena...you're scaring me." She tentatively reaches out and grasps Lena's fingers, tremendously thankful when she doesn't pull away. If there's one thing her wife is bad at, it's letting people in. But she also knows when she's feeling stressed or overwhelmed that holding her hand relaxes and grounds her. "Please..."

Finally, after standing there in an awkward and probably painful way with the way Lena's neck is positioned, she slowly looks up. Kara audibly gasps when she sees her, and what she sees ignites a fire in her chest and a fury in her eyes. "If you're not hurt, then why are there bruises all over your face?"

"Kara.."

"Lena," she breathes and lifts her hands to gently cup her face, tears pooling in her eyes. Her breathing is significantly more ragged than before, and she mentally takes note of why that is. "What happened?"

"It's nothing," she repeats.

Kara frowns and backs away, crossing her arms. "Who did this to you?"

"Please, Kara. I don't want to make a big deal—"

"Who?" her voice is lower and angrier, sending chills down Lena's back. She grits her teeth, "Lena, tell me who did this to you now, so I can kill them."

"Kara, this isn't you," she reaches forward to calm her down, but Kara starts pacing.

"The hell it isn't!" Kara exclaims, fists clenching at her sides. "My wife was beaten for all I know, and she's acting like it's just another day at the office!" she gestures at Lena, exasperatedly. "How would you expect me to act?"

Lena flinches at her tone.

Kara notices, because she always notices when Lena's in distress, and she deflates. "Lena, you're the love of my life, my person, and when you're hurt I can't help how I act. I'm sorry if I seem like I'm overreacting or if I'm yelling, but it's you." She walks back into her space and places her hands over Lena's face, thumbs lightly grazing her cheekbones, careful not to bump her wounds. "It's you," she whispers.

Lena swallows thickly, and when she speaks her voice is soft and afraid. "It was an accident."

"Did someone do this to you?" Kara's jaw clenches as she lets go. She doesn't stray far though, crossing her arms in front of her chest to try and calm down.

"Kara, no," Lena sighs, tears pooling in her eyes. "I...I did it to myself."

"What?" Kara's arms drop to her sides. "What are you talking about?"

"I was in a board meeting," she clears her throat. "Um...I was presenting a new prototype for...for," Lena shakes her head and frowns tensely. She rubs her eyes with tight fists and with a shaky breath, she cries, "Kara, I—I can't remember!"

Kara steps forward and grasps her hands. "Hey, it's okay. Take your time." She rubs soothing circles over her knuckles with her thumbs.

Lena takes a deep breath and tries again. "I was in a board meeting, and I vaguely recall getting a terrible migraine. Everything after that is fuzzy," she sniffles and takes her hands back to wipe her eyes. "Jess said I fell and hit my head on the table on the way down."

Kara inhales shakily, "What?"

"I had a seizure, I guess," she says it with a slight lilt at the end like it's a question she doesn't want answered. "Uh, it lasted about five minutes until the paramedics arrived. They said I was lucky I wasn't doing something else, like driving. It could've been a lot worse."

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't anyone call me?," Kara looks at her with pleading but sorrowful eyes.

"I didn't want you to worry."

"We promised each other, remember?" squeezes her hands. "For better or worse," she says with all the conviction she has. Kara kisses her knuckles and asks, "What did the doctors say?"

Lena sniffles and bows her head. "They ran all these tests on me, but couldn't find anything serious as to why I had a seizure. It could be any number of things, but they can't really do anything for me until I have another one," she looks up at her wife, lips wobbling.

"Kara, I'm scared," she whispers. "This is—" her words catch in her throat, and it's hard for her to breathe. "This is—my mom," she cries hysterically, covering her mouth with her hands, "This is how my mom died, she—she had a seizure while she was in the lake and she drowned. I can't—I can't believe this is—this is happening," she hiccups into another sob.

"Shhh," Kara envelops her in a hug and rubs soothing hands along her back. Lena bawls uncontrollably into her neck, hands gripped tightly to the back of Kara's shirt. "I'm so sorry, Lena," she kisses her on the head and murmurs into her hair, "We're gonna figure this out, I promise."

"What if I have what she had?" Lena questions, voice muffled and watery. "Kara...I don't wanna die," her mind begins to fill with thousands of different scenarios and she spirals into a panic, her whole body shaking, "I don't wanna die, Kara!"

"Honey, no," Kara hugs her tighter, as much as she can without harming her, then pulls back and kisses her on the forehead. She pointedly looks into her eyes when she says, "You're not dying. Okay? Not today, not anytime soon, alright?" Lena's face is red and splotchy. She tries to reign in control of her emotions, and she exhales a shaky breath while managing to give a slight nod. "Good. We'll figure out what's wrong with you, and if we can't do that here, then...we'll go to Argo. Their advances in science are way ahead of Earth's, and if that's not enough then I'll personally travel to other earths or other planets until I find a solution. You're not going anywhere if I have anything to say about it."

"Promise?"

Kara palms the underside of her jaw and rests their foreheads together, Lena's puffs of breath hitting her lips. "I promise," she presses their lips together in a chaste kiss and mumbles, "I love you." Kara kisses her again, "More than anything."

"I love you, too," Lena replies and buries her face in Kara's chest, her arms wrapped around her waist tight and what would be restricting if not for Kara’s invulnerable body. A calming minute passes for them in the aftermath of Lena's breakdown, when Lena quietly asks, "Is something burning?"

Lena feels her wife stiffen in her arms. "Shit!"

She pulls back and raises her eyebrows curiously, an amused glint in her eyes as she asks, "Did you just swear?"

Kara extracts herself from Lena's hold and stutters, "N-no, I said sh-sheet," she fumbles over to the stove and turns off the burner. Kara leans over the pot and frowns at the wreckage.

Lena chuckles with such fondness it's almost like their previous conversation has been forgotten. Kara beams at the sound, one of the reasons she fell in love with Lena in the first place; that girl can make laughter sound like music. Even her out-of-control snort laughs are adorable. At least to Kara's ears.

"There's no point in denying it, love, I heard you loud and clear," Lena smirks and joins her in the kitchen, poking her in the side. Kara squeals and feigns hurting by falling to the floor dramatically.

Lena playfully rolls her eyes and holds out her hand. "Baby, get up, the floor is a mess." Kara easily obeys and jumps to her feet with barely any help from Lena. "I married a weirdo," she shakes her head.

"Do you regret it?"

"Never," Lena states firmly. "You're my weirdo, forever."

"I like the sound of that," Kara blushes. Even after being married for five years, and knowing each other even longer, Lena still possesses the ability to fluster Kara on a daily basis.

"C'mon, let's order Chinese."

"You're speaking my language!" Kara kisses Lena on the nose and watches with pure affection as it scrunches. She grabs the takeout menu from the junk drawer before twining her fingers through Lena's and snuggling with her on the couch.

No matter her diagnosis, not matter the outcome, Lena will be more than okay with Kara by her side.

#half of this was written with an edible in my system #so i apologize if it doesn't make sense #lasdkjfldskjf #prompt ask #supercorp #supercorp fic #a lot of angst #but also PURE FLUFF

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askmemenoquestions · 3 years

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Emilie Autumn Sentence Starters

From the Enchant Album (long post)

"When you are sleeping, do you dream of me?"

"How strange that you should come to my dominion in the middle of the darkest night."

"And I don't believe in playing like I know that game."

"I'm not a prize that you can claim."

"Are you strong enough to love me for the way I am?"

"I don't think you understand that you can't hold me in your hand."

"I'll do just fine alone."

"Love goes on, but time does not return again."

"Stranger things have come true."

"Close your eyes, regret nothing. You're safe with me."

"Across the sky, I will come to you, if you ask me to."

"Ask yourself: is this all there is? Take no answer but the one you find."

"I have put my faith in aberrations of your kind."

"In destruction we may lose ourselves, but still I will remain."

"Show your face, don't hide, take off the mask now."

"Take your love, 'cause I don't want to keep it."

"All the fine games we played have left me bored."

"Tell me what I have to do to make you understand it's a lost cause lover."

"I don't want to hear you say you love me; you've been gone such a long time."

"Don't you see? I am out of place, and, honey, you are out of time."

"You have no hold over me."

"I hope you got what you wanted."

"She lost her voice; she had no choice."

"No you can't be afraid, if you ever want somebody near you."

"I've been racing for you, honey, but you take your love from under my feet the very moment I arrive."

"You were the one thing I could count on, even if your apathy was what I expected."

"But maybe I just wanted someone to wait for."

"You were behind my soul each time I held it to the flame."

"So I reach for your love, like the moon and the stars--ever in my sight, ever out of touch."

"I'll speak, but they won't recognize my words; they'll say I'm telling lies."

"I'll take my hope where I can find it; seems I find it here with you."

"All I've come for is a sign."

"Is there someone who can help me up above the clouds I see?"

"I can do without a book I'll never read."

"I will believe in miracles, 'cause it would take a saint to set me free!"

"You're in my stars, you know."

"Even when I close my eyes, I'll never recreate the time that flies."

"The sky will fall, but I don't care."

"Your love is haunting me, and all I want is more to set me free."

"I know we will never be the same."

"Every other touch runs as cold as ice."

"If I get too close, I may pay the price."

"I could recognize your shadow in a crowded room."

"I will marry at thy will, sire."

"A thousand years gone by, too late to wonder why I'm here alone."

"No one wants to hurt me, but everybody tries."

"Someday these walls will speak, the floor beneath you creak to call my name."

"Here in my web of dreams, my whispers turn to screams."

"Tell me no more stories, and I'll tell you no lies."

"For this freedom, I have given all I have."

"For this darkness, I gave my light."

"For this wisdom, I have lost my innocence."

"Take my petals, and cover me with the night."

"You have watched as I pull myself from the floor."

"You were there when I built my tower like pebbles in the rain, trying to balance all that I had left, with what I didn't have anymore."

"You were my everything, my apparitional faith."

"If I had another place to go, would you break me?"

"I'm tied so hard I can't remember when I last walked free upon these feet of mine."

"There will come a time when I am stronger. Your words won't hurt any longer."

"I can't fall, because you'll try and catch me."

"All I can tell you, my only pretention was in thinking you listened to me."

"Somebody called me a paranoid angel."

"You might be special, but it's too late to change now, 'cause it isn't the first time I've heard it all."

"If you feel better telling me I'm cruel, saying I'm unfeeling, I don't mind."

"I'm sorry that I caused you so much pain, and I'm sorry to bring you down again."

"How can any man be so blind?"

"If you feel safer keeping to yourself, placing trust in no one, I won't cry."

"Take my reputation. Ain't worth much and it's all right."

"But if you feel better, I don't mind."

"How do I save you from a fate so sweet as being torn to pieces by a loving hand?"

"How do I look upon the eyes I love and send them down this path; I know it isn't right?"

"Behind the curtain waits a darker world."

"If I can't make you leave, how can I save you from me?"

"Can you not recognize a soul already sold?"

"I can't deny the past, it's written on my face."

"I'm far too tired to stay here anymore, and I don't care what you think anyway."

"'Cause I think you were wrong about me."

"What if I'm the kindest demon? Something you may not believe in."

"Tell me what I am all about, and I just might learn a thing or two hundred about you."

"You cannot stand to believe I'm not the perfect girl you thought."

"Well, what have I got to lose?"

"What if I'm an angel without wings to take me home?"

"You don't know me. Never will, never will, I'm outside your picture frame."

"What if I don't know who I am?"

"Will that keep us both from trying to find out?"

#sentence starters #starter sentences #rp memes #ask memes #askbox memes #rp starters #long post #lyric starters #no plans to do other albums rn this was just in my head

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walkswithmyfather · 2 years

Text

“The Lord had said to Abram, “Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you. “I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse; and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you.” —Genesis 12:1‭-‬3 (NIV)

“Abraham: Blessed to Be a Blessing” By Rev. David Bast:

“The blessings God gives us are intended to be shared with all, beginning with the inestimable blessing of salvation from sin and including all the other good things the Lord has given to us.

I know that I have been greatly blessed. Perhaps you have too. So many of us have been given so much: material goods, adequate incomes, families, friends, jobs, homes. And that’s just for starters. If you’re a Christian, then whatever your circumstances, you’ve been given the greatest gifts: faith, hope and love. And you have been blessed with the means of grace and the hope of glory. If you have Christ, you have been given everything that is eternally worthwhile. So the big question is “Why?” Why have I, why have you, been so blessed? The answer to that question is found in Genesis 12:2-3.

“I Will Bless You, You Will Bless Others”

In the opening verse of Genesis 12 the Lord tells Abraham, “Leave your country, your people and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you. I will make you into a great nation and I will bless you.” Abraham went, and God blessed. But this isn’t the whole story. For that you need to read the rest of the sentence. Here’s how it continues: “I will bless you,” God says to Abraham, “and you will be a blessing. . . . and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you” (Genesis 12:2-3). God’s promise to bless Abraham is accompanied by a further explanation. His blessing of Abraham is just the first step in a much bigger plan to extend that blessing through Abraham to all the earth’s peoples.”

[This is a long Web article. You can read the rest at the link below.]

#genesis 12:1‭-‬3 #bible #christian blog #god #bibletranslations #biblequotes #encouragement #belief in god #faith in god

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spideymarvelws · 3 years

Note

Peter Parker fluff- as friends or on a date, the reader and Peter go to target and cuteness, flirting and a lot of fluff happen 🥺

Some ideas ( if you don’t know what to do )

- Peter picks you an outfit to wear

- your in the makeup section shopping and Peter either gets into it or he gets bored

- in the food isles Peter says that you both should bake together

Even tho i’m not taking requests... i still wanted to do a little hc cause this idea was to cute to pass up that and i was feeling in a fluffy mood

Main Masterlist

I could see it just being something happening out of the blue

Well for Peter at least

He was ready to just chill at your place

Maybe get some last minute work down

But for the most part he was just excited to goof around with you like he did almost every afternoon

Maybe also gather the courage to confess his feelings to you

What he didn’t expect was to be attacked with your puppy dog eyes, asking him to come with you to target

You were already planning on going with a MJ but she bailed last second

For reasons unknown 👀

Definitely not because the constant pinning was getting on her nerves😀

And since it was a last minute decision to go, you didn't have the time to tell Peter your plans

So once he reached you immediately asked him to go with you

He ‘reluctantly’ agreed, coughing away the red all over his face when you grabbed his hand and dragged him out the apartment

Now where I live we don’t have target and I’ve only ever been there once so bare with me here

Peter doesn’t know jack shit about shopping for clothes

His waredrobe consists of the same jacket, two pairs of jeans he just washes every week, maybe a sweater or two and an entire draw dedicated to tshirts with science puns

And while you found the silly puns and jokes cute, especially when he looked so proud and went on little rambles when someone pointed them out

You couldn’t help but wonder how you could do so much better...

Queue the fashion show montage

The classic black jeans, white shirt combo for starters

Definitely trying out the bad boy look with a fake leather jacket over top

Does target sell plaid pants?💀 cause if they do thats a definite yes

We’ve seen how good Tom looks in them

And maybe- possibly you slipped in a crop top

The second best thing you’ve ever done after embarrassing him in front of the avengers

And as much as he didn’t want to admit, he liked it too

Quite a lot

But he couldn’t let you know that

Especially since he was acting done with the entire situation, he had to keep up with the facade

Not that it was believable when his face was the shade of the target logo itself

Subtly slipped the top into the cart

“I thought you didn’t like it?”

“shutup.” 🧍🏻

Picking out some clothes for you wasn’t any better

Because of course you picked the most revealing outfits

Constantly asking how he felt about it, if he liked the colour, the way it made you look

He always answered with the generic answer of you look beautiful in everything or just a quick, high pitched ye-yeah you look great!

Which was true, you could make a potato sack look amazing

But he wasn’t about to call his best friend sexy in the middle of a Target

Nor did he want to get turned on in the middle of a Target

So calling you beautiful seemed like the next best thing

After the absolute torcher mostly on his part in the in the clothes section

It was off to the makeup

And boy, did you take advantage of him

Using him as your brand new canvas

Countless swatches of eye shadow, lipstick, you name it, littered his arms with the first aisle

Honestly anything that caught your eye and had a free sample you used

Ofc this is after covid

Very pouty boi every time you grabbed his arm

But still looked at you like you lite up the sun

Which was always his downfall

Willing to help

But at what cost?

At some point, you managed to reach to his face

Manz do be looking like a full on clown afterwards🤡

But he was your clown 🥰

*cough cough*

Best friend clown ig 👀🙄😒

Luckily you kept makeup wipes in your bag

Because you were cruel, but not that cruel

And while Peter was relieved, he had to make a mental note to ask if you could do his face properly when you reached back home

Maybe it was because he actually quite liked how he looked with coloured eyeliner or maybe it was because of the close proximity of your face to his

Ig we’ll never know🤷‍♀️

At that point you thought you’d put him through enough

So you rewarded him with going to the toy aisle next

Because you can’t convince me that Peter Parker is not a man child by heart

And that is not the first place he would run too anytime he’s taken to any store like target

You’ve never seen him smile wider that day

Probably because all you’ve been making him do was blush and mumble words under his breath 😇

But he was especially pulled to all the spider man toys

In fact as you both entered the aisle there was already a small boy there, giggling with his parents as he held up packaged web-shooters and playing superhero, adorning a plastic spider-man mask on his face

Peter almost burst into a million pieces of confetti

And as the family left, he turned to you with a bright smile

“Can we get some?”

“THE CHILD??!!”

“WHAT!? NO! Not the child, the TOYS!”

such a weird sentence out of context lmaoo

Fast forward the next thirty minutes, the both of you are giggling and laughing, chasing each other around the aisles with plastic swords and shields

Peter having to hold you back from jumping into a crate of plushies

You making sure he never got any silly string cans in his hands

Just pure chaos

How you both haven’t gotten kicked out? Only bingus knows

Having that moment where he sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him, just muttering boo in your ear to scare you

Him laughing at you

You trying to calm your racing heart

Then realising how close both your faces where

The area becoming quiet

Feeling his breath against your face

His body close to yours

All Peter saw was you and all you saw was Peter

The both of you slowly leaning in, gaze switching from his lips to his eyes, making sure that this was something that he wanted

Feeling his lips brush along yours, reading to fully press them against-

“eXUsE mE? But do you knew where the shampoo is?”

👁👄👁

🧍‍♀️🧍🏻

🦗 🦗 🦗

Peter stepped away and politely guided the lady to the aisle, earning him a pat on the head while you stood awkwardly by your cart

You both strolled to the food area in silence, immediately separating to ‘divide and conquer’ but in reality it was to fully process what just happened

While you were overthinking near the pastries, Peter was working over by the fruits, hating that the moment was ruined and wondering what would’ve happened if you weren’t interrupted

He kept thinking about the fact that you didn’t pull away

That you leaned in with him

That he felt your lips even if it was for a split second

He wasn't about to let his opportunity go to waste

And his sudden burst of courage

So as you both checked out and walked out of the store, he was quick to pack everything in the trunk of the car, pushing the cart right in front of you and blocking you from climbing into the drivers seat

“Get in.”

“Heh?”

“Get in.”

You blinked

“As in, get into the cart?”

“Yes.”🙂

hehe

you’re in danger😀

But nevertheless you got into the cart, trying your best to find a comfortable position

You mind immediately went to Peter rushing you across the carpark, sending you both flying into a hospital bed

But you didn’t expect him to pull out a camera along with a bouquet of flowers you didn’t know he bought

He delicately gave it to you, blushing when your fingers brushed along each other

“I just- I just wanted to get some photos for memories.”

His hand rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes locked on his shoes that tapped on the floor repeatedly

You bit your lip, relaxing into the cart with your leg thrown over the thin plastic and flowers held to your chest

“Like one of your french girls?”

“Okay. Just because we watched Titanic last week does not give you the right to use that line everywhere,”

“Just shut up and take the pictures Parker.”

After a few moments of Peter circling the cart, making sure to get the perfect angles that captured the sun set behind you but kept you as the focus point of the picture, you started to zone out

Instead of focusing on making a certain face or direction, you took in his appearance

Hair tousled and glowing brown, moving perfectly with the wind

His face fully concentrated on taking the pictures

It was a perfect picture

He was a perfect picture

“If this is for memories you gotta get in here too Peter.”

You smiled, waving your hands and ushering for him to come closer

“I- okay.”

He walked behind the cart hesitantly, leaning over with the camera to get the both of you in frame

He had to lean a little bit closer, his face right next to yours

So as his finger pressed the button to take the photo, you took the courage to turn your head to give him a kiss on the cheek

But he turned his head to do the same thing

Resulting the both of your lips connecting, a quick peck that sent to both of your head spiralling and smiles growing

“Never thought our first kiss would be in a target carpark.”

“Can out second one be there too?”

“Damn right it can.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker hc #main character shit right there #people only appear for plot purposes😒🤚#as they should

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yeoldemothmemes · 3 years

Text

Wayward Guide Werewolf Sentence Starters

Taken from the Tin Can Bros youtube series - Wayward guide - but just the lines about werewolves Out of context spoilers ahead Included are some alternate versions of the lines just for ease of use Feel free to change pronouns and alter as needed Content warnings: Murder, Blood, Death, “Werewolves?” “Folklore is a part of any culture” “Lycantropes, that means werewolves” “I don’t actually believe any of these myths” “Do you know anything about werewolves?” “I think I’m a werewolf now” “That is a big dog” “Chased by a real werewolf” “It seems there is a pack of werewolves trying to destroy us all” “I just feel like werewolves are in right now” “Too obvious. Not a werewolf” “I’m not a werewolf” “Can we get to the bottom of this werewolf problem?” “Sounds like something a werewolf would say” “Let’s find out what the werewolves might want more than anything?” “My church is open to all, even wolves” “Which is why I’m assembling a werewolf hunting task force” “I don’t know how much of a person I am anymore” “The raw meat? Constant itching? My awesome new hearing? Isn’t it obvious?” “My sense of smell - it’s good” “I’d keep the howling down if I were you” “Off the record - I’m a werewolf” “We want nothing more than to live in peace with the humans” “There is more of them than us” “Every wolf has been accounted for” “Someone is trying to put the blame on the wolves” “With your intellect and recently acquired abilities, I think you can help” “The fact that your recent attack has turned you into a _____” “The fact that your recent attack has turned you into a werewolf” “I feel I should advise you on some of the things you’re going through” “If not werewolves, then who or what is killing everyone?” “Too little and we are beholden to the moon, too much and it kills us” “All the victims look like they were torn apart by a wolf” “I think I’m better suited here” “Some people in town might have powers” “Some people with special abilities” “Are you talking about werewolves?” “It’s as I suspected, you’re turning” “Do they know I’m a wolf” “I’m a werewolf” “I took an enormous risk telling you this” “We are not the enemy here” “If this is true then you have been lying to me my entire life” “Before you found out I was a werewolf, I was still your friend” “Of course, a silver bullet” “A wolf, a big white wolf just came out of nowhere and killed them” “Why kill your fellow wolves?” “I’m more of a lone wolf with a taste for vengeance” “I’m the last remaining wolf” “I already got a bit of the wolf rundown” “Take me as your student and together we can destroy the wolves” “I was consumed with blood lust I didn’t consider the future of my lineage” “Being with you would keep the bloodline pure” “Am I in a goddamn monster movie?” “What luck to discover a wellspring for all the werewolves” “Your pack was poisoned with your lust for power” “Your pack chose violence, we chose peace” “You chose submission because your pack is weak” “My pack have always been the alphas. We’ve always been smarter, stronger, more cunning” “My plan was for you to lose control of your abilities and the humans you call friends would have killed your pack” “How do you get the fangs out? I’m trying” “Before settling here, we were nomads - our curse preventing us from staying in one place for too long. “Beholden to the moon, we were easily exposed” “We found a way to control our powers and live among humans” “We found a way for us to control our powers and live among humans” “We were searching for a cure, but we found a home” “Other than the genetic anomaly that causes me to turn into vicious carnivorous beast, you and me are really quite similar” “We enjoyed life with humans - it was simple and fulfilling” “But other wolves scared and killed people to assert their dominance over the town” “That’s when the werewolf wars began” “My pack defeated the others and banished them from the town” “I don’t know how long I can keep this covered up” “How have you kept it a secret this long?” “Don’t you miss like food? and people?” “I could always raise an army of wolves and take back the town”

#Wayward guide sentence starters #rp sentence starters #roleplay sentence starters #sentence rp meme #web show sentence starters #web series sentence starters #webshow sentence starters #werewolf sentence starters #werewolf rp sentence starters

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dropsofletters · 3 years

Text

you feel like magic.

— summary: byun baekhyun offers the nicest services for anyone who needs it—call certain number and be prepared to spend the best night of your life with a call boy, ready to meet the expectations of your wildest dreams. the golden star of his business, kim jongin, also known as kai when seducing his clients, thinks there is more to it, much more when he accidentally gets a call from someone who doesn’t know about his call boy ways. is sex really everything in this era?

— title: you feel like magic — pairing: kim jongin x reader — genre: call boy!au ; web designer!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; meeting through the phone!au ; meet cute!au ; slice of life!au — type: fluff ; angst ; suggestive ; drama ; romance — word count: 12,910

His sweetener tongue meets the roof of his mouth, plush lips parted to welcome the coldness of the night. It’s at moments like this that he wishes to be like the walkers by this horrid side of the city, sporting long coats and hands hidden in the depths of his pockets; perhaps, they rush out of their nine-to-five jobs, seeking for the warmth of their homes once they reach them. Jongin lets his shiny boots roam over the concrete-made sidewalk, kicking a rock to make it roll to the center of the street. A lonesome moment leaves the pebble in tranquility before a car moves it further away, or dissipates it into the thin air. He doesn’t know anymore.

What he knows is how to keep the buttons of his shirt opened enough to capture the glimpses of a few women, four to be exact, rushing to stay away from the cold night that ventures into the possible rain that has yet to appear. They cup their mouths to speak beneath themselves, and he takes this moment to run his fingers through his bleached blonde locks, barely sending a smile before they widen their eyes and laugh beneath themselves. Not his usual clients, but he’s made to charm people, right?

The leather of his pants rubs against his thighs, doing nothing to protect him as he waits for a fancy car, perhaps a expensive-looking woman to pull up in front of him and invite him to the nearest hotel. Made to please those who pay him, is how Kim Jongin would describe himself. A mess of seduction that ended up in various sheets just because of his words. Visual matters aside, the real key to getting someone to have the time of their lives while laying in bed and trusting another person with sex comes with the talent of speaking. Dulcet, sweet, with the right amount of spice and a vibrato after his tone. Goofiness aside and exchanged for something desirable—never quite enough to sedate, for he wants his clients to see him one more time.

One more time means more money.

It means a recurrent client.

That, in the call boy world, simply translates to a phrase: sex sells and you have to make them obsessed with your sex, your shared nights, whatever it is that they desire.

The few sprinkles of rain fall when he takes his phone out of his pocket, the black device matching his clothing and the grayness of the night, a little bit over ten and yet, left abandoned to wait for whoever the fuck knows how long. What he needs right now is some money for the week, the recognition that comes with a newcomer, and the promise of excellently paid nights that had been the only thing his boss, Baekhyun, had talked about for the entirety of the afternoon.

Instead, his phone lights up with an unknown number, calling him at the peak of night. It’s rare for clients to call him directly—hell, and he doesn’t even think about the option of a real hook-up calling him. Jongin hasn’t had one of those in a while; maybe over eight months, if not more. Something about sex isn’t quite as appealing anymore, at least, not in his personal life. Not in his free time.

Byun Baekhyun, with his black hair and big pockets filled with money coming from the men he assesses, wouldn’t man up enough to give his number around. He had done it in the past; something about a new way of making money he had been speaking about (“Seriously, Jongin.” The man had said at the time, crossing one leg over the other as he sat on the edge of his pristine glassed desk. “Phone sex is the new it-thing. People are just too busy to spend hours having sex…or, I don’t know, you could sext people? I’m sure you can make your dick look nice for a picture.”), but he never pulled through with it. Too personal, as well as too risqué—someone could record him, send the pictures to someone else, taint his name as a call boy (if he can even do that, he’s already socially tainted), and if that’s what he wanted, he would’ve been a porn star instead.

He could just ignore it.

But there, in that dangerous side of the crowded city, with his back pressed to a concrete wall, hiding in the shadows, he finds nothing better to do. If the call is some woman trying to get inside his pants, he may as well ask her to meet up with him and just get tonight’s worth in money. Clearing his throat, he lifts his eyebrows, using his arm to support the elbow thanks to his lifted hand, speaking into the phone with certainty.

“Hello, who’s this?” Jongin doesn’t have time to lose, tranquility and sweetness long exchanged for something more serious. The timbre of his voice remains seductive, knowing the difference between his character as a call boy and who he really is. Kai promises a good night, while Jongin thinks a good night is being able to crash in his bed without having to worry about getting out at midnight and fucking someone. And doing good at it, which is even worse. It’s not as easy as people make it out to be.

“Oh, you don’t sound like a girl.”

The voice is much too innocent, one would call it aloof, and with the rain pouring down on him, he can only hide beneath the smallest roof, looking at the droplets of rain that pool by his feet. It’s not the first time someone has called him with that tone, as if she’s ready to get over the pure side of her and exchange it for something else, but it is the first time someone tells him he doesn’t sound like a girl, as a sentence starter at that.

“I’m not one, that’s why.” Jongin breathes out, eyes widening when he sees a car pull up in front of the street, he finds himself in. However, a man rushes out of one of the buildings and enters the platinum car, leaves with a harsh pull of the door, and the car pulls off. “Were you looking for a girl?”

“I’m—Uh, I was trying to call my friend Hyuna.” The woman on the other end breathes out. “Are you her boyfriend?”

A girlfriend. He hasn’t had one of those in a while, and it’s mostly his fault. How does one tell the woman they love that he is a call boy? That each night, when he said he was going out to work, he went out with other women to be able to give himself a respectable life? The way his ex’s face fell when she discovered everything, from his job to how it started, still replays in his head from time to time. An asshole, he has been, and yet, he doesn’t have enough time in his life to sit down and regret it, tearfully reminiscent of the way his entire world had changed.

“Unless I have a girlfriend I don’t know about, I would tell you you’ve got the wrong number, sweetie.” He doesn’t know why the last part slips from his tongue. Maybe, because something in her tone tells him that she is having a bad night, just like him, one of those moments where it feels like everyone lives their lives correctly, and you’re the only one that hasn’t quite fit in the adult world.

“Oh.” She breathes out, the sound of a door closing following her statement before she clears her throat. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“I think it is.” And he should leave it at that, but given that his ‘date’ for the night is nowhere in fucking sight, he may embark in some conversation with the melancholy made woman over the phone. “Did you need anything from your friend?”

For a moment, she pauses, hesitating, and Jongin really thinks he has fucked it up. You see, small talk is not normally something he takes part on unless someone pays really well. He goes out to dinner, holds their hands for a while, makes them feel beautiful and then, he’s off towards the natural route. Sex in whatever way his client wanted. “…Kind of…” She breathes out, a ragged sigh following her statement. “I mean, I hoped that we could have a girl chat, but I’m over here talking to some stranger while I can’t even talk to the love of my life—”

Oh, someone who likes to rant. He hasn’t met one of those since the afternoon when Baekhyun was talking wonders about the client that has yet to appear. He doesn’t know if he still likes it. “You can’t talk to your significant other?”

“That’s the thing, he’s not my significant other.” Well, this is taking the casual route of ‘high school problems that shouldn’t be present in adult life, but for some people, they do’. “I’ve been in love with him since college and, uh, well, now we’re very much graduated, very much into our adult lives and he just started working at my workplace after years of not seeing him. And he’s single. H—Hot, too.”

See?

This is the issue one would have in high school, when you’re a teen and you don’t know better, meaning that Jongin should be laughing at this matter. Cackling at the stutter in her tone, had he not found it refreshing. Have people continued to be adorable in this era, or is it just her?

“Did he make a move on you in college?”

“Kind of.”

“And what happened?”

“Well, Donghae was not quite ready for a relationship then, so…I didn’t even try to continue the flirting. We just became friends.”

“Has he made a move now?”

“…No…”

“Then, show him who’s boss and who’s taking the reins now. You have more balls than him and you get to make the shots. Nothing sexier than a woman who knows what she wants and gets it.” Jongin looks over to the street one last time, a small smile appearing on his face when he sees a woman over her forties getting out of a red convertible. That stage of unknowingness that comes with the forties doesn’t only affect men, he thinks, but by the way she quirks an eyebrow, wrinkles a little bit more prominent than his usual client, and how she licks her red lips, he knows he won’t have to do much.

“Oh, wow, I would’ve never thought about it that way. H—How do you know so much about relationships?”

Jongin starts walking, one leg in front of the other as he gets drenched in rain. If he’s lucky, that will get him naked sooner, and the job will be over before he knows it, able to go back home and have a nice night of sleep. “Well, baby,” He whispers, a smile on his face. “You’ve just called a call boy. I know what both women and men find sexy. One, because I’m a man. Two, because I go out with a lot of women.”

“Fuck no?” She questions, and Jongin has to chuckle at her tone.

“You swear?”

“Sometimes.”

“Sounds cute in your voice, honey, but—” He speaks into the speaker, getting closer to his client of the night. “I really have to hang up. I have a client, you see.”

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry!” Though, he feels like laughing at that moment—something he doesn’t do often when he’s in the job, more like he has never done such thing, but soon after, their communication cuts short with a brief goodbye. “Thanks for the advice…I didn’t get your name.”

“Kai.” Though, he says it to the woman in front of him as well, extending his hand for her to take before he presses the pillows of his lips to her knuckles. A classic for older women.

Just at that, he hangs up, putting his phone inside his pocket before speaking again.

“Owe me a phone for being late, young lady.” He speaks up, biting down on his lip when the woman chuckles.

“With that smile I’ll buy you two, hon.”

That’s always better.

###

What connects Baekhyun and Jongin is that they were once both strippers. Not at the same time. Not under the same circumstances. And definitely not with the same conclusions. Baekhyun ended up with his own call-boy business, with men he recruited from his group of friends or from strip-clubs, never once tangling himself in the sheets of other women, becoming a husband and a magnate after dancing on tables and poles. Now, that’s a good ending.

His white denim jacket remains open, abdomen in full display as he hooks his fingers on the necklace around his neck. He knows what he is doing—these parties that Baekhyun invites him to go to are simple business moves. Jongin looks more like a boy-next-door, easy hook-up, an Angel in Hell, when he’s in the strip-clubs. Stealing someone’s clients’, for sure, but also embarking those clients that don’t know much about him. It makes Baekhyun earn more; it gives him the benefit of looking like a party-goer and getting more money than intended. Life is good when they attend these big events with heirs over heirs fighting just for some love.

The bass thrums against his ribcage, the hands of some woman ending up on his belt, his plump lips parting to connect with her pink mouth, tongue coming forward just the slightest as his hand becomes one with her neck, thumb touching the column of her throat and stealing a breath away from her. Smaller than him, definitely a bit above twenties, wearing a golden dress that she had talked about when they had just met—Louis Vuitton, something of the like, but Jongin prefers Gucci, in his own opinion. His client for the night, now fully aware of the call boy he is, sucks on his bottom lip, cornering him against the entrance door, the red lights of the strip club shadowing him, the white ones falling on the women and men scattered across the stage, all in their own poles.

She pushes her gray hair off her shoulders, when the elongated strands are moved away, he can see the figure in her eyes, grasping his fingertips to tighten his hold around her neck. “Where’s the nearest hotel, call boy?”

“Like twenty minutes away.”

Hwa groans from the back of her throat, the necklace around her neck swinging to glisten its diamonds right at his face. Oh, money, that’s what everyone loves, ain’t it? “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

“I can do the job in the car, but the prices are higher for lack of comfort.” Jongin jokes around, though he’s using his eyes to his favor. A glisten of those almond-shaped majesties and he can get everything he wants. “But I can wait for you, Hwa.”

The woman takes her keys out of her bag, shaking her head at his antics. “No, Kai. I’m getting you in that car as soon as possible and you’re doing your job. I can’t wait.”

You see, when Jongin was younger, something like twenty and twenty-one, he would’ve loved this kind of response. He used to love having someone for a month, rubbing that spot of romance before letting it go for lust. It was fun, until it wasn’t. Until working as a bartender had developed into something stronger—being promised to dance, ending up taking his shirt off in front of everyone, making appearances in bachelorette parties, translated into women wanting to be with him. With taxes to pay and a roof to maintain, Jongin promised himself he’d do it once—once to get a ring for his then girlfriend. Once and it would be over.

Once.

Once and a thousand times.

Once.

Once and then, again.

Hwa swings her hips as she tries to find her car in the parking lot, and Jongin follows suit. He takes the time to button his jacket up, the glances of a few partygoers getting through him. When it’s out under the lights like this, he doesn’t feel quite as confident. People judge him for what he does, he knows this, but when he’s left in the shadows, existing in solitude, the smoke waving his vision into nothingness, it’s all he has to do. Easy money to live the life that makes him feel more complete; beer in the freezer ready for him to take when he’s stressed, an apartment bigger than the one he used to have, and all his taxes paid.

A white car opens its doors when she presses the red button on the keys, a big smile appearing on her face when Jongin leans forward and captures her lips once again. What does he have to think about to feel better? He always tells himself this is going to be the last client, but it’s never the case. It doesn’t feel better to kiss someone else, to end up in whatever surface doing the nastiest thing he can imagine.

It’s not fun anymore.

Was it ever fun to start with?

His phone rings inside his jeans, making him frown as he tries to concentrate on the kiss. It must be Baekhyun trying to ask him how he’s doing, but after one missed call, the phone rings again. This time around, Hwa pulls away, looking at him with a scrunch of her nose before rolling her eyes.

“Aren’t you going to get it?” Annoyance rips from her throat and Jongin sighs. That’s why someone as pretty as her goes to a call boy, maybe, because that attitude of hers definitely isn’t a good thing. Taking his phone out of his pocket, he stares at the unknown number that somehow feels so familiar to him. Another sigh rips from his throat when he puts his phone up to his ear, speaking into the speaker with intent.

“Hello?”

“Kai!” The cheery, pure, somehow adorable tone in the other end almost has him pressing red, but instead, he tries to hide the smile on his face. “Uh…how are you doing?”

“I’m at the job, honey.” He replies, something that doesn’t quite settle well with Hwa, pushing at his belt and trying to get him closer to her. Pushy bitch. “Is there anything you need? Why did you call me again? Thought it was Hyuna?”

The golden skin of the back of his neck creates goosebumps when she chuckles softly, falling into soft silence. “I actually needed advice. You know, from someone who knows much more about the subject than me. But, if you’re busy—”

Somehow, he can’t bring himself to say no. This is the only person that looks for him without actually looking at him. If she’s interested in talking, it’s because that’s the actual truth.

“Baby, I can call you later if you really need to, but right now, I’m trying to earn some money…”

“Y—Yeah! I understand!”

Hwa doesn’t understand, however, pushing herself off him with a hiss coming directly from her pretty lips. Not all that shines is gold. “Listen, you bitch, are you going to fuck me or not?”

You know, Jongin works for money. There is no way in hell that he enjoys being someone’s toy, having Baekhyun direct him the clients that he’s going to grasp, sending him to parties, putting his life at risk by sleeping with married women, taken women, women who don’t take care of themselves sexually and so on and so forth. He’s done things that he would have never thought about liking in his sexual life, all for the sake of having some green in his vision. Though, at this very moment, all he can see is red.

He’s not a toy. Much less Hwa’s.

“You know what? I’m leaving.” Jongin replies softly, taking her hands out of his jacket before huffing into the phone.

“Kai!” Hwa calls out for him, and he hears the sound of a high heel falling on the floor. Someone had just thrown a high-heel at him. “Kai, get the fuck back here! Do you want your money, bitch?”

“I’ve already got money.” He answers, turning around to look at her as they talk. “Thank you, though. I’m sure someone will gladly take it, but it’s not me.”

Life had never felt quite as liberating as that moment, when the breeze doesn’t bite at his naked chest and he can finally let go of a night without feeling used. The expensive cars are left behind him when he walks towards the street, hiding himself in between the groups of people after such drama. “Oh my—What just happened?” Just then, he remembers he is on a call, and he can only chuckle at the sound of this woman’s voice. This stranger that just made him lose a client, and he can’t bring himself to care.

“Clients are rarely good to me, you know?” Jongin spits out, losing himself in the city for a second, listening to the cars passing by and the people talking beneath themselves. Somehow, with this phone call, he feels like a normal person. “But, enough about me. What kind of advice did you need?”

“The sexy kind.”

Jongin laughs at her antics, at the whisper of her statement and the way he can hear the TV on the background of her call. “Oh, so you come to the call boy because he’s more knowledgeable about sexy stuff?”

“I don’t know you, Kai, but I know you’re a thousand times sexier than me.” She initiates, only to continue with her train of thought soon after. “I am always in an office, wearing a hoodie, looking at pictures of men on Instagram and liking them intensely. I just can’t do sexy.”

“Why not?” Jongin questions, a smile petrified on his face. “Being sensual is all about acting. No one is sensual naturally.”

“Lies.”

“What?”

“That’s a lie.”

“It’s the truth!” It has been a while since he has raised his voice from his usual deep tone. It’s the kind of voice he speaks to his friends in, but not the one he uses with women. Something must be different about this one. “Do you really think people go around biting their lips, flexing their muscles, talking all deep, and all that shit? That’s an act. I’m an act.”

“But that’s the problem…” The whine in her tone has him turning to the corner, needing the walk as well as getting home. He’s not going back to that strip-club. “I need to be sexy to get Donghae’s attention.”

“What? No. Sexy doesn’t cut it. If sexy is all that cuts it for him, he’s…he’s wanting you for the wrong reason.” Jongin thinks back to the last time he had gone out on a date. Beautiful stylish, a lover of coffee and elongated readings. She put too much cream on her strawberries and then, would hide away from him. Excuse him, but holding onto her waist, onto the imperfections that made her real, made him feel like the connection was stronger. “You know? A real man, the one that you should give the time of the day to, wouldn’t mind seeing you in a hoodie or with a crop top. He will look at your ass, but will also love your eyes.”

She cackles at his antics, and he imagines her shaking her head. Perhaps, she’d look somewhat plain—the kind of beauty that blends in the background but is enchanting in its own way. “I just want to be sexy, that’s all. I want him to desire me…because I kind of texted him thanks to you and I think we’re going to meet up outside of work.”

“Like a date?”

“…I guess so. Is it a date?” She speaks to herself and he wants to ask her to stop. That voice will be the death of him, like ice cream cake—dulcet but freezing him at the same time.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Ugh, I guess…” She replies, sighing deeply. “But I don’t know. What do men like? Low cut shirts? Boobs? Ass? Both?”

“Men love confidence.” Jongin tells her, trying to reassure her. “Just know that how you look doesn’t matter and wearing a sexy shirt is not worth a thing if you don’t feel good using it. Besides, if he really thinks you’re hot, he’s going to think you’re hot as long as you’re comfortable.”

“You’re just saying that—”

“You want to have his attention?” Jongin interrupts, getting closer to his apartment complex by the minute. Still, it’s perhaps twenty more minutes of walking. “Like, my only advice here would be to tease him. Flirt with him but then, cut it short. Let’s say you’re kissing him, and he leans in for more, just smile at him and ask him—” He clears his throat then, going back to his seductive tone. “Why should I keep kissing you? What’s there for me if I do?”

For a moment, she stays silent, maybe pondering, but then, a shuddering breath leaves her. “…Now I know why you have so many clients. That was hot.”

“And you didn’t even see me while saying so. I could be the farthest thing from your type right now, and you wouldn’t even now. You didn’t even see my boobs and you still thought I was hot while speaking.” A blush creeps up on his face, and he doesn’t even know why. It’s been the longest time since heat has appeared within him from mere words.

She laughs at his antics soon after, melodious, like she gives all the cares to this world and yet, doesn’t hold grudges for how badly it treats her. “You have nice boobies?”

“Ah, uh—” Taken aback, his laughter comes out high pitched. “Somewhat.”

“Somewhat…” She whispers, a brief chuckle coming after that. “Thank you for the advice, Kai.”

“You’re very welcome.” He replies, though, he stops her before she could say her goodbyes. “But you could thank me by telling me your name?”

It’s unfair, he knows it. To her, he’s Kai. He’s not Kim Jongin, a dancer that ended up being a stripper out of need, out of lies that were told to him, crafted especially for people like him. But it doesn’t feel quite as unfair when she says it with honesty, perfect for saying it out loud. Like a poem, like a song.

“…Good night, Kai.”

“Good night, baby.”

And he doesn’t know why he wishes she would say: Good night, Jongin.

###

While laying down on Baekhyun’s couch, he swings his legs back and forth, his stomach fully pressed to the blanket on top of the brown leather. His cheek is squished against the fabric, though, a small hand presses further into his free cheek until his lips pucker up, pressing a wet peck to his mouth. With his eyebrows very lifted and a flutter of his chest, he hears Baekhyun speaking from his kitchen, stopping all chances of snooping at what his wife is making for dinner to send a glare towards his eleven-months-old daughter.

“Choonhee, what do you think you’re doing?” Baekhyun, who is normally lively and over the moon to make people laugh, now has his hands placed on his hips, strutting over to his daughter to stare down at her. Their eyes are fairly similar or, at least, to how Baekhyun’s eyes looked in those pictures he displays on his coffee table, where he was much younger and less of a mess. Jongin will always say Choonhee is far more adorable, and maybe, that’s thanks to her mother, Lia. “You don’t kiss me but you kiss Uncle Jongin?”

Choonhee makes grabby hands at her father, and Baekhyun relishes on the feeling of being needed, forgetting his attire of a businessman and basically the manager of over twelve call-boys to something simpler. Jeans and a white t-shirt, as if he’s in his early twenties. “Dada.” She utters softly, the only thing she can manage to say, and when Baekhyun puckers up his lips, she pulls away.

It’s almost one of those silent comedies they used to watch in the sixties.

“You get all the ladies, and you also get my daughter. It’s unfair.” Baekhyun speaks out, a dramatic turn on his heels making him sit down on the couch across from him. For someone whose bank account is well filled thanks to his business, his home is a little bit on the warmer side. Beige tones, a lot of yellows, and a bunch of pictures of his family and friends. Jongin could find himself somewhere in there if he looks close enough.

Jongin sits up then, extending his arms over his head before clearing his throat. “I always said I would like some children of my own.”

Baekhyun’s legs is bouncing his daughter rapidly, smiling at her after he made a few mocking faces. “You’d make a great father, that’s for sure.”

If only he had a different life. If he could date people freely, or do something else that isn’t feeling like a marionette. Jongin looks at the ceiling, then off to Lia, whose black hair is wrapped tightly in a low bun, wearing baggy clothing and humming one of Baekhyun’s songs under her breath. They love each other, and he can’t have what they created. Not with anyone. “…It would be easier if I just quit.”

His boss stops his motions with his daughter, his face falling in concern when he looks over at his friend. “I—Jongin, didn’t you like your job? You’ve always been one of the best members of our business.”

It’s not about being the best, it’s about how he feels like the worst person while doing it. “I’m tired of it, Baek. It just…sucks. You don’t know because you don’t do it—”

“We used to work on the same thing—”

“One thing is dancing on poles, another thing is…you know…” Jongin trails his voice, concern lingering on Baekhyun’s face as he thinks.

“So, you came here to quit?”

“I came here to talk about it with you.” Jongin replies, cracking his knuckles while he puts his arms down. “I—I would like to pull away from this mess I got myself into, but I wouldn’t know how to start again. I don’t have a resume; I don’t have a reputation as a dancer. I’m just some…call boy.”

Life should feel like each breath brings him closer to a happy ending, not like his lungs only bring him further into a life he can’t control. His time has elongated into torture, and he can’t stand it one minute longer. Choonhee is playing with the brown strands of her dad’s hair, pulling it to various sides, and yet, he doesn’t react.

“I’ll find you a job. As some dance teacher or something, I don’t know. You do well with ballet, I think.” Baekhyun answers, blinking rapidly. “But if you want some good money, I could give you a grand finale. Find a client that would give you so much cash that you wouldn’t have to worry for a while. That is, until you find the job of your dreams.”

“One last time?” Jongin ponders, licking the inside of his cheek.

“For old time’s sake.”

Jongin’s phone vibrates inside his pocket, and before he takes it out, he nods delicately. “Only if it’s nothing extreme. Just one final goodbye with some good money, and in a good place. I’m tired of cramped cars and stupid hotels.”

Baekhyun lifts his hands in the air, laughing joyfully. “Damn princess, what else do you want? Satin sheets? A pretty girl?”

“Baek—”

“Okay, alright. I got it. I’ll take all your conditions into consideration.” Baekhyun says, puckering his lips once again to try and steal a kiss from his daughter, and his groan is enough of an answer. “Choonhee! Kiss! Come on, kiss dada!”

His phone screen welcomes him from a series of texts from a number he had saved two weeks ago, under a name he wouldn’t want to forget even if he tried.

To: Kim Jongin.

Hello, Kai!

How have you been?

As polite as ever, he can imagine her sweet tone speaking directly into his ear. Heaven in hell.

From: Kim Jongin.

I’m doing great, baby.

How are you?

To: Kim Jongin.

Fine. Thank you for asking!

Then, the line falls eerily silent.

From: Kim Jongin.

May I help you with something?

To: Kim Jongin.

I have a sexy question.

From: Kim Jongin.

There’s nothing less sexy than saying sexy question.

To: Kim Jongin.

Sexy question.

Sexy.

Question.

S-E-X-Y.

Q-U-E-S-T-I-O-N.

From: Kim Jongin.

Donghae’s lucky.

To: Kim Jongin.

You remember his name!

From: Kim Jongin.

I sadly have good memory for stupid things.

What’s the sexy question?

To: Kim Jongin.

I’m too shy to say it.

From: Kim Jongin.

…Really.

Are you really?

To: Kim Jongin.

I’m in Donghae’s bathroom as of this moment.

Hiding.

Well, not hiding.

Googling stuff.

From: Kim Jongin.

What kind of stuff?

The picture that pops soon after has him widening his eyes. It’s a screenshot of her current situation, looking up on Google how to suck someone off, and at that very moment, he looks up. Choonhee is still in Baekhyun’s lap, and Baekhyun is chatting with Lia peacefully. Somehow, he feels like a teenager hiding his screen from his parents. He wouldn’t hear the day of it if Baekhyun realized he was talking to someone and giving them sex advice.

From: Kim Jongin.

How old are you again?

To: Kim Jongin.

26.

From: Kim Jongin.

And you’re googling this.

Oh.

My.

God.

How?

Why?

Wait, how?

What?

Are you sucking him off right now?

Ew.

Or yay?

To: Kim Jongin.

Stop spamming me, please.

I’m on the verge of throwing myself out of the bathroom’s window.

But it’s too goddamned tiny.

From: Kim Jongin.

Haha.

If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to do it.

To: Kim Jongin.

I thought I wanted to.

But it’s too complicated.

I haven’t done that…ever…

His eyebrows raise, enough to capture Lia’s attention that is flipping something on a pan when she asks: “Jongin, are you okay?”

“Yeah, uh, I’m just reading an article…Don’t mind me.”

“You’re staying over for dinner, right?”

“O—Of course.” Though, his eyes divert towards the screen once again. So, the beautiful voice behind the phone is much more innocent than he thinks.

What does she think of him as a call boy? Probably that he’s the dirtiest man she knows.

To: Kim Jongin.

Jongin, he’s asking if I’m fine.

Teach me.

Give me tips.

I don’t know.

From: Kim Jongin.

I don’t know eithr!

Either*.

I have never sucked anyone off.

Well, not a…guy.

To: Kim Jongin.

But you’re a guy.

From: Kim Jongin.

And?

To: Kim Jongin.

You should know what men like!

From: Kim Jongin.

I know what I like, not what other men like.

We’re all different.

To: Kim Jongin.

Google said the same thing.

Fuck.

From: Kim Jongin.

Language.

But wait, did you want to do this?

Or what?

To: Kim Jongin.

He asked me to do it.

And isn’t that how things should go?

I’m an adult, after all, and I’ve wanted to be with him since college.

If I lose my chance with him now, he won’t want to go out with me anymore.

Why, oh why, do people enjoy being with absolute shitheads?

From: Kim Jongin.

If you’re not ready, or you don’t know how, he should be totally fine with leaving it for another time.

And if he really wants to see you, he will be alright with not doing anything tonight.

If he’s nice, he’ll go out with you again, doesn’t matter if you suck him off or not.

For a handful of minutes, Jongin gets to eat the precious homemade food in the Byun’s table, small talk filling the space with laughter and warmth, though his eyes always divert to his phone, somewhat expecting that the read message comes with a reply. It’s only twenty minutes into the dinner that his phone lights up again, a message coming through that steals his breath away.

To: Kim Jongin.

I left.

He was bummed, to say the least.

Thank you for your advice!

You’re an angel.

With food-coated hands, he replies.

From: Kim Jongin.

Far from it.

Though, the picture that comes after is a screenshot of their conversation, the most noticeable thing being his name—his call-boy name, Kai, accompanied by an angel emoji by its side.

If only she knew she was the angel in between the two.

###

“When are you going to let me have a piece of that ass, Kim Kai?”

Ling plays with the rips of his jeans as he says those words, and his eyes stop skimming through the pamphlets placed on the coffee table in the waiting room outside of Baekhyun’s office just to look at him. The man has always had some kind of crush towards him—one that had been somewhat imperceptible at the beginning of times, but now had fallen into kind of a joke in between them. With his arms tattooed, his slim body hunching onto itself as he smokes from a cigarette, he knows he is the only person in this entire business that earns more than him.

For, he just has more range. He’ll deal with just about anything and anywhere, too. Tell him to bend himself over in the most ratchet of streets and he’ll do it—for the right price, and with the word of mouth that inherits protection. He’ll deal with women and men equally, though his preference varies depending on the day. Threesomes are more of his thing nowadays, and it gives him twice the money he would have with one person.

It’s a weird thing to say—but Ling is talented. He’s not the type of seductive Jongin’s character is—Kai is a man next door, the kind of guy you just like because he is handsome and it gives you a boost. Who doesn’t want to sleep with someone who everyone desires? Ling, on the other hand, knows what he is doing. The person he is with could be completely blind and still feel all of him. He’s a charmer—he fits himself to the person he is with.

Let’s say his client is insecure about that one mole on their left ass-cheek. He’ll make them feel good about it. No doubt they won’t ever doubt their attractiveness after being with him.

“How about never?” He replies, a bit of sassiness in his tone as he picks up the book the clients are introduced to when asking for their services. When he opens the first page, he sees the younger generation of call boys. Towards the latest page, Ling and Jongin are showcased perfectly. The gray background makes his golden skin stand out and, at the time, he had brown hair—chocolate rich and ready to make him look like innocence personified. His eyes glisten with malice, while his lips remain serious. How had he believed he’d be happier with this job?

“Don’t say no until you try it.” Ling conquers, taking off his jacket before sighing deeply. “Are you waiting for Baekhyun?”

“Yeah. He said he’d come here thirty minutes ago…but he’s nowhere in sight.”

“That’s weird…that he told you to come here, I mean. He was super busy this morning. One of the newcomers has to get an STD test because he really thought not wearing a condom was a good idea.” Ling takes his phone out of his pocket, probably texting one of his many dates before continuing with the conversation. “Newbies, I guess.”

Jongin frowns deeply. He had never been in that position—but he guesses some people like this job more than others. “Who is it?”

“The short guy, page three. Not my style, though, too short.” Ling explains with certainty, quirking one of his thin eyebrows. “Were you going to ask Baekhyun about your grand finale?”

“He told you?”

“Everyone knows you’re dropping out of the call boy thing.” He says. “It’s as much of a big deal as when a porn star drops out of porn to live a normal life. You’re the Lana Rhoades of our business, Kai.”

The man can’t help but chuckle at his words, standing up from his seat to get closer to Ling. “Well, I should go if he’s not coming, then—”

“He found you a grand finale, though. I think you’re getting half a million in just one contract.”

Jongin likes money. He likes how green the paper is, the smell of it, and simply the feel of it. One of his most enigmatic nights as a call boy is when he was laying down on a bed filled with money, and the woman had been rich enough to ask him to take all of it—plus his payment, of course. Though, his eyes almost budge out of his head at the sound of that amount of money. Half a million just for a night with him.

“Who the fuck would pay that much?”

“The first woman you slept with when you started, of course. Once you take someone’s whore virginity, it feels special. You’re the one who taught them how to be a whore, after all.”

The first woman he ever slept with as a call boy.

She would be near thirty-nine at this moment, if not older. At the time, when he was twenty-two, she was the owner of a big web designing business. With straight bangs and a skirt that almost reached her ankles, he would’ve never thought of her as the type to ask for a call boy. Though, a bit of a difficult woman—she asked for dinner, some foreplay and after, it was him. Jongin damn right passed out after he came back home. Firstly, he was tired. Secondly, the woman was crazy as all fuck.

He has been asked plenty of crazy things in his history as a call boy. Everyone has their weird quirks; he likes to believe. But the first woman he slept with as a call boy, whose name now slips his head, had been so attached to her ex-husband that he had to roleplay as him.

Roleplay as Jinyoung, he remembers.

He had to call himself Jinyoung, in third person.

And it was horrid.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes!” Ling replies, putting his phone down in the process. “I think I heard Baekhyun say something about a whole routine, though. You’re going to have to be her ex-husband.”

“As in, roleplay?”

“As in, become as close to him physically as humanly possible.”

Some people are really crazy.

“…Is Baekhyun out of his mind?”

Ling cackles at that, standing up at the sound of his phone ringing before taking off outside. “Probably. Maybe. I mean, I don’t think it’s that much of a big deal, but…” Shrugging his shoulders, he opens the door with one brief motion before laughing. “Good luck, Kim Kai. You’ll need it.”

With that, he’s left alone to his thoughts.

One last time.

###

Being physically tired because of dancing is a newfound experience that he used to know so well. His chest heaves as he lays down on his bed, hostage of his bedsheets as he curls his fingertips against the fabrics. There is nothing he would love to do more than close his eyes and nap the night away, but something keeps him up: adrenaline.

Mom used to tell him that he’d know when real passion would come to his doorstep when he felt tired after working. Jongin believes the real kind of love for a job or a hobby comes through when he feels restless. His eyes can’t close, fingertips trailing over his chest in hopes of reducing the beat of his heart to a calm blue, chest still shaking as he turns down the music. The world is silent again.

When he looks at his phone, he reads through his text conversations. Family members. Baekhyun. The text from Baekhyun remains unread, sent three hours ago—

From: Baekhyun.

I already bought the clothing you’re going to wear with Mrs. Kwon.

Practice your best businessman lines.

One more week.

Though, he can’t bring himself to answer right now, jumping away from the text conversation to look through his contacts. Flowers bloom inside of him when he reads her name, Donghae’s not so perfect half, who had not texted him since that last time she had thanked him for being able to slip away from that horrendous date. Over a month and they had not talked, not a single word from her, and definitely not a word from him.

He’s curious about her; perhaps, how she looks like, what she does for a living, who she is.

And it’s at this moment, when he presses the call button, that he realizes just how alone he must feel to do such a thing. Lacking that female character in his life, maybe, or just a new friend.

“O—Kai?”

The surprise in her tone brings a smile to his face, placing his hand behind his head before humming. “That’s me, baby.” He replies, not realizing that he has lowered his voice the slightest until he is looking up at the ceiling. “Am I interrupting something? You sound surprised.”

“No…I was just working after hours. I’m glad you called, actually.” She whispers softly, and he can hear the clicking of a mouse. “I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t text, but since you knew who I was, I suppose you kept my number.”

“You were super nice to me, why would I delete your number?”

“Are you sure you don’t want my call boy services and that’s why you kept my number?”

“W—What?” The stutter in her tone has Jongin chuckling loudly, perhaps sounding the farthest away from the sexy. “No matter how sexy you sound, Kai, I’m not one for call boys.”

“Good thing I’m not going to be a call boy for much longer…” Jongin trails, a sense of happiness creeping up on him when he hears a whistle from the other end of the phone.

“Are you ending up as a nine-to-five worker like me?” She asks, an elongated sigh following her statement. “Well, it’s not that bad. I look at a computer screen far more than I’d like, and I can tell the difference between Calibri and Arial far too well, but apart from that…there’s some good things.”

“I’m going to be a dancer.” Jongin explains, though, not wanting to divert the attention so much on himself, he talks to her. “What do you do?”

“Web designer.” The answer has Jongin scrunching up his nose. What are the odds of web designing being so huge these days? “I make websites look cool, and then, I get underpaid for it. My boss gets rich, I get poorer.”

Jongin has to agree to that. “My boss is mad rich as well. Not that I don’t earn well…but in comparison to him, I’m on the streets.”

“Asshole.” She spits out, only to have Jongin laughing.

“I get along well with him!”

“No!”

“Yes! He’s a nice dude. We used to be strippers around the same time. Well, he was finishing his career when I was starting and he kind of recruited me.”

He remembers thinking that Baekhyun and Lia were interested in him with how much they frequented the strip club he used to work in. Turns out that Baekhyun only wanted to see his talent before offering him a better deal—he took it, and years later, he’s ready to let go of it. “Didn’t you take a test?”

“What?” Jongin asks, incredulous. “Do you think sex work is like a college application program or something?”

“No, no! But how did your boss know that you were good at…?” She trails her voice, and he imagines her cupping her hand around her mouth and speaker. “At doing the deed?”

He can imagine Baekhyun being asked that question, and the answer would be yelled out of lack of shame (“It’s in the hips!” Baekhyun would say. “Have you seen that man move his hips, bro?”). However, he can’t bring himself to say that. “Usually, if you’re a good dancer…you know how to move…and that’s all there is to…doing the thing.”

“Oh!” Excitement fills her tone then, and he hears her tapping away on her keyboard. “Kai, I didn’t know you danced!”

“If I said I was a stripper, I kind of had to know how to dance.”

“So, are you a pole dancer?”

“Not initially…” He ventures into the world of memories. “I was a jazz dancer at first, then I went for ballet. I can dive into contemporary and just about anything, but pole dancing wasn’t my thing. I learned on the spot.”

“You, my friend, are a box of talents.” She utters. “Women must go crazy over you.”

“They go crazy for Kai.” He replies, a groan at the back of his throat. He doesn’t know when it started to become an insecurity for him—the division of character and the ways they met. There are things in common between Kim Kai and Kim Jongin, after all.

She hums. “Isn’t that your real name?”

“Nope.” He pops the word out. “I can’t use my real name. None of call boys do. It’s to avoid people looking for us, or getting attached, or whatever. There are some crazy clients.”

“May I ask something?”

“Sure…”

“What’s the craziest thing you’ve done while on the job?”

Jongin doesn’t really have to think much about it. He could say all of it—there is something so inherently weird about being paid to have sex with someone he doesn’t even know, in places where he could possibly get murdered in. It’s a bit of trust mixed with luck. “An orgy.”

“What?!” She asks, voice high enough for him to think she’s alone in the office. “Oh my. With how many people?”

“Four apart from me.” Jongin recalls. It was at the beginning of his career, and he can’t say he was proud of it. “I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s uncomfortable and standoffish and it just makes everyone uncomfortable. I saw far more genitals that day than I had intended and it wasn’t fun.”

“Kai…you’re incredible.”

“Am I?” His face heats up at the sound of those words, only to have her humming.

“Only the brave would do that for money. That’s the confidence I want to have.”

“But that’s who, my character, Kai is.” He says into the phone, turning around on the bed to lay on his stomach. “And I want you to get to know the real me.”

“W—With pleasure. Ah, who would that be?”

“Kim Jongin.”

###

The beauty about sexual encounters is how genuine they can be. His job, on one hand, wants to bring the most honest version of sex that can be paid—he’s an actor, if anything, but not a porn actor. Which is why he is used to the normal accommodation of events and dialogues, called improvising in acting terms, but he isn’t used to scripting himself past the character of Kim Kai. One would think that for his last appearance as Kai, the call boy, he would have the reins of the situation on his hands, but Baekhyun had given him a script along with the suit he was going to wear, and a visit to the hairdresser followed suit.

For the afternoon and part of the night, he has to be Jo Jinyoung, Mrs. Kwon’s ex. A man born in a wealthy family who, in real life, had scammed his own wife and managed to get away with thirty percent of her earnings for the next fifteen years—and, for some motherfucking reason that shall remain unknown, Mrs. Kwon’s still wants to bathe in orgasms at the idea of Jo Jinyoung—. Fitted suits and dark hair, his air of confidence has to be changed for one of manipulation. As if he wants the ground, he is walking on to be kissed by his wife, degrading.

It’s uncomfortable. Really. If he could say a few words to Mrs. Kwon, he’d say: you can do much better than whatever you’re imagining is what you deserve.

The doors of the web designing building Mrs. Kwon owns open like the wings of a butterfly, showcasing him in the perfect stance of him with that gray suit. He loosens the black tie around his neck, sending a smile to the receptionist who widens her eyes at him. She fixes the cat-eye glasses that fall down on the bridge of her nose before speaking politely.

“Good afternoon, welcome to Han Designing. May I be of help for you today?”

“Yes, I’m looking for Mrs. Kwon.” Jongin speaks with certainty, his voice a deep timbre, and that’s enough to entice the woman in front of him to lift her phone up to her ear.

“Who would it be?”

“Jo Jinyoung.”

She stops momentarily, because that is a name she had heard before—either from Mrs. Kwon herself or because of the gossip around the office, however, she continues with her job, shrugging her shoulders when she talks to the biggest boss in this building. “Mrs. Kwon, hello, a young man who calls himself Jo Jinyoung is asking to meet up with you. Should I send him over to your office?” A brief set of words from Mrs. Kwon has her changing her features, pressing a button on her computer before humming. “Yes, I’ll cancel your lunch meeting, Mrs. Kwon and I’ll send him over to you.” After hanging up, she points at one of the many elevators by the right, all cladded in gray and glass. “You can go to the twelfth floor, she’ll be there. Her main office has her name written on the door; it should be easy to find.”

“Thank you.”

You know, let’s go back in time for a while. Kim Jongin, aged nineteen, stumbling out of a party with a girl in between his arms—that was the first time he was ever with someone sexually. It didn’t last a thing, two minutes tops, and it was in complete silence in fear that her parents would hear them in her room. The nervousness of being caught, of doing wrong, of being with someone he liked all bundled up together to paralyze him. At this moment, as he enters the elevator and watches the numbers go up, the people surrounding him getting off one by one, he feels like he is about to lose his virginity.

One last time.

Just one fucking last time.

The elevator welcomes him to a new kind of world, passing through a bunch of cubicles to be able to get to that last door—Mrs. Kwon’s office. The older woman was wild enough to ask for their first event of the scheduled program to happen at her office. Apparently, it was one of the many things she did with her then husband. Jongin just has to barge in, pretend to be a total asshole, and probably do her against the desk. It’s nothing out of the ordinary. He has done worse, right?

The movement of his feet is always coordinated, but for some reason, he ends up hitting his little toe with the edge of one of the desks in the cubicles just as he is walking to the main office. A groan rips from his throat, tiny, followed by a hiss that has the person by the desk standing up to check up on him. When he opens his eyes, he first notices a bunch of little action figures—Star Trek or Star Wars, he is guessing here—scattered across a disorganized desk, though when he looks up, he’s met with a pair of beautiful yet worried eyes.

Her eyes glisten enough for him to part his lips in surprise. A gray hoodie clads the upper part of her body, a pair of high waisted pants highlighting the plushness of her thighs. Jongin watches her chapped lips, how pieces of her hair still remain inside the hood of her shirt, but what interests him the most is the sound of her voice—

“Oh my, are you okay?”

That voice he has heard in the peak of the night, when he has nothing else to do. It’s the voice he sometimes hears in voice messages when she is talking over coffee and pastries. It’s the voice he misses when he spends days without talking to her. It’s the woman that accidentally called him once, and now he can’t seem to get enough of. A nice friend, he’d say, but one that doesn’t know him physically at all.

It’s her—it’s the woman who never considered herself to be attractive, yet exudes the kind of beauty that makes him want to pull away. Simplistic. Caring. The kind of person men miss when looking at what’s easiest, when the most difficult of puzzles always give the most gratification.

The woman he has been talking to for the past month is one of Mrs. Kwon’s workers.

“Y—Yes. I’m sorry, I think I made you drop this.” He picks up a Stormtrooper action figure that fell by his feet thanks to the commotion, but when he puts it down on the desk, he sees the surprise on her face. “You’re a science fiction enthusiast?”

Her lips part to say something, but they close immediately, instead putting one hand over her mouth to cover it up. It does nothing to conceal her surprise. “I—I am.”

The doors to the main office open then, Mrs. Kwon standing in all her enigmatic glory, leaning against the doorframe as she silently calls out for him with a mere glare. In front of him, he has the opportunity to stablish some conversation—meet someone who he had deemed interesting when talking over the phone with them, but the job is calling. His last opportunity to get some money and run for his real dreams is calling.

“I have to go meet up with Mrs. Kwon.” Jongin whispers, giving her a shy smile. “I’m sorry again.”

Only when he starts giving a few steps towards the main office, sporting one of those smirks he is tired of, he feels his phone vibrating inside the pocket of his pants. Jongin knows who it is, but his hands are shaking as he gets the device out, putting it up to his ear as he keeps walking.

“I—It’s you. You are here to see Mrs. Kwon.”

He closes his eyes. It’s horrid that she has to see him like this—like who he used to be and wants to get over and done with. Maybe, she’ll think less of him. Now that she sees him, she will see how deep into the call boy world he had gotten, enough to throw all shame out the window and have sex with someone in a fucking packed office.

“Sorry, baby. Have to do this last job.” Jongin whispers, briefly turning around to look at her, a look of despair on her face when he hangs up the phone, a sigh ripping from his throat when he finally is in front of Mrs. Kwon.

Maybe, he’s not meant to get this close with anyone unless they pay him.

###

“Jongin, let loose!”

Taerin puts on a pair of awfully tiny green sunglasses as they stand in the middle of the mall, both her hands occupied by the group of children they teach. Contemporary dance was the topic of this month, and all the parents had agreed on recording a video in a mall showcasing the dance skills that their children had acquired through the program. Not that he would ever think he’d be here three months ago, but with Baekhyun’s help and his connection with his ex-girlfriend, Taerin, he had been able to get the job.

“I’m letting loose!” He says, pulling at the red strands of Taerin’s hair as he passes by her and places the two children, he is holding hands with on their positions. “But dance is an art, I need them to be in the right positions before we start recording so we don’t bump into each other.”

Taerin is so much more different from Baekhyun’s current wife. She’s more on the outstanding side, that is for sure, with a high ponytail and her curvy body covered with clothing of all colors, shapes, textures. He isn’t surprised that a few pairs of eyes end up landing on her, either with confusion or with attraction. Not that she is his type, really. “They’re just children. And we’ve been practicing for a month.”

“Yes, Mr. Kim!” One of the children, William, says from his spot. A little bit over nine years old and definitely a threat to society with how hyperactive he is, but for dancing…he’s spectacular. Jongin sees a bright future with him. “We’re ready.”

Dabin, a seven-year-old boy, raises his hand in the air with anxiousness. “Actually, Mr. Kim, Mrs. Lee, I’d like to practice one more time before y—you start recording, please.”

“Dabin!” William whines, only to have Dabin pouting.

“I forgot one part.”

Jongin is ready to go over the dance again, nearing the Bluetooth speakers to put on some music when he comes face to face with a person he knows and a complete stranger. They are seated by one of the mall’s tables, in front of some ice cream shop that he has yet to go to. The man wears a bright pink sweater and ripped jeans, the band of his boxers peaking from his jeans as he leans down to capture his date’s kiss on a passionate kiss. His lips part way too much, sucking on her upper lip with intention as she covers most of her hands with the sleeves of her hoodie, holding onto his long, brown hair.

Her features are hard to dismiss—he had seen them once, missed them for three months. Not that she had not tried to reach out to him, perhaps weeks after they had seen each other in person, asking how he was doing…but he was unable to answer. Embarrassment latched onto Jongin like a leech, sucking every desire of continuing with their interesting conversations. It hurt him, but it’s what he had to do.

The date in question, or perhaps her boyfriend (and Jongin really hopes this is not that Donghae, dick out, guy.), pulls away with a smile on his face, his plush cheeks matching his rosy lips as he rests his thumb on her bottom lip, pulling it down the slightest, not caring about who is seeing or the embarrassment that clads her face in beauty. His eyes trail down to her lips, thumb still rubbing at the skin as he speaks, and it’s at that time that Jongin feels a shiver going up his spine, trailing up to his neck and his head.

He wants her.

And he hates it.

But it’s okay. It’s all cool. Why should he care if she goes out on a date with someone, or if she’s dating, or if someone even wants her? She’s an attractive woman, of course people are going to look at her—

So, why is it that when the man in question leaves the table and goes to one of the restaurants nearby, he asks for some timeout and rushes out to her?

He doesn’t know. Jongin knows about sex, not exactly about romance.

“Back with Donghae?” is the first thing he can manage to say when he nears her, placing his hands inside the pockets of his sweatpants and hoping that she doesn’t catch the jealousy on his features, masked by a smile, under his cap. She raises her head then, frowning deeply at the sound of his voice before gasping audibly, eyes widening in the process.

“Kim Jongin?” She asks, both hands coming up to her face, just like the last time he had seen her and he damn right finds it adorable. “…Long time no see. Or talk. You didn’t really answer my texts.” She replies, and just like the first few times they had talked, she chuckles and continues to rant. “Well, not that you should. I mean, half the office knows that you and Mrs. Kwon—”

Jongin scrunches up his nose then, shaking his head in the process. “Oh no, me and Mrs. Kwon have nothing to do. She hired me for the entire day so she would pay me half…a million.” At the sound of that amount of money, he lowers his voice, making her raise both eyebrows, mouthing the number with surprise. “Not that it matters. I’m not…I’m not in the business anymore.”

Her hand extends in front of her heart, sighing deeply. “And here I was thinking I had been talking sex with Mrs. Kwon’s boyfriend behind her back and that I was going to get fired.”

“No,” Jongin answers, laughing as well. “If there is something, I don’t have is bad tastes in women, and Mrs. Kwon is not exactly my style. A client, first and foremost, and secondly…too hooked up on her ex. She likes all the bad shit in this world.”

“I get it.” She says, pointing to the seat in front of her before asking him to sit down. Jongin shouldn’t, but he finds himself sprawled on the seat before he knew it, interlocking his hands together in front of him. “That’s not Donghae.”

“He wants you.”

“Oh, no—” She replies, scoffing in the process. “He doesn’t want me. Come on. We’re just—ah, we just kiss sometimes. It’s nothing serious—”

“Let me remind you—I know about seduction. That whole lip thing I just saw? Seduction.”

“Friendship.”

“Seduction.” Jongin corrects, laughing at her face when she groans. “Doesn’t he meet your standards, like, the same as Donghae?”

Her eyes divert towards her date, standing in front of a restaurant and talking to the worker there. Not that he is anywhere near unattractive, but it isn’t the kind of person he imagines with her. Maybe, someone like himself would be more of a fit.

“I’m not interested in that with him.” She answers, shrugging her shoulders. “Perhaps, I’m just broken. I can’t feel sexual attraction anymore, to anyone. It’s insane—”

Though, she looks at him briefly, making Jongin chuckle as he speaks. “Baby, that’s not being broken. That’s just being selective. It’s okay to be that.”

“With every man?”

“Yeah, it’s completely normal.”

“But…” She throws her head back, sighing. “Isn’t it annoying? Like, most adults just want sex—”

“Not all of them.” Jongin replies, looking down at his interlocked hands before biting on his lip. “Outside of my job, I haven’t done much with anyone. Once your life revolves around sex, you realize it’s the least of your priorities.”

A second of silence follows his statement, and he hears her pulling her chair forward, closer to him. “Why didn’t you text me back, Jongin?”

He looks up then. “I was afraid you’d think less of me for being a…a…” He can’t concentrate his pupils on her anymore.

“A call boy.”

“Yeah.”

“Jongin, I would never think of you as less because of that.” Her voice drips sincerity, eyes twinkling in the way he had seen once and couldn’t get enough of. “It’s a job. It’s not the most common of jobs—but you did it for a reason, and you wanted to stop. That’s your choice, your life, it’s not what makes you a better or a worse person.”

Jongin smiles at that, looking over to the group of children practicing with Taerin. “I’m a dance teacher now, you know that?”

“If someone had texted me back, I would know.” Though, the moment is cut short when her date, or her friend, whoever he is, appears with a trail of food on his hands, sending a comfortable smile towards the man before nodding.

“I didn’t know you were bringing a friend.” Her date says, but Jongin is already standing up from his seat.

“I was just greeting her, nothing big. I’m leaving now.” Not that he wants to do that, but it’s better if he does. Turning around one last time, like he always does with her, he feels the magic in her eyes when he says: “It was nice talking to you again.”

###

From: Kim Jongin.

How did the date go?

It takes him five minutes, three dots on the screen and a slurp of spicy noodles inside his mouth to get an answer.

To: Kim Jongin.

Horrid.

Why?

Like, it’s bad to rant about this.

And you probably think I’m some picky bitch but—

Is it my lips?

Why do all men I go out with want me to suck their dick?

From: Kim Jongin.

I don’t think you’re a picky bitch.

Never say tat.

That*.

Because you have to be more honest and less malleable.

If what you want is a simple date, tell them.

I’m sure they give you signs that they want a hook-up.

What comes next is a screenshot of her screen, typical as ever when coming from her, a Google search that has him almost choking on his food.

She’s funnier than she lets herself believe.

The search says: Why can’t man differentiate normal flirting with hook-up flirting? And the articles are nowhere near as informative as they should.

To: Kim Jongin.

I’ve given up.

On dating.

Men are complicated.

Capital C.

Cursive.

From: Kim Jongin.

There’s nothing wrong with self-love.

To: Kim Jongin.

But now I have a bucket filled with fried chicken and no one to share it with.

From: Kim Jongin.

Mhm.

Send me your address and we can share

I’ll bring some noodles.

Slipping into his coat after getting her address feels like a new beginning. For him, maybe, to get out of his shell and realize that he is more than just a body moving through the world. He’s a soul—his charisma, his strength, his delicacy. There is something about the smile he gives to that closed door, because a new beginning has never felt quite as beautiful as this.

###

When he was twenty-three, he promised himself he would never fall again. Love is so meticulous that the only free time you have is spent doubting. He didn’t want that for himself anymore, neither for the person he was seeing.

The street lights bring him back to the places he had been in, but now, he’s seated on a bench. Typical Saturday night of their weekly meet-up when Jongin gets out of work at the same time she does, and they grab something to eat to spend a few hours of the night together. If the world’s beauty had a voice, it would be hers. It feels like magic; as if for the time they are talking for, he learns all her insecurities and makes them human. Every single wound, every crevice, every portion of her that bleeds, aches, palpitates, grounds itself and silences its complaints, make him more interested.

Kim Jongin prided himself on never being sedated.

“If I have a car, and you know this,” Jongin says, placing his hands under his thighs as he sits down, looking at her profile that basks under the lights of the empty street. The hood of her shirt is pulled tightly over her head, the few traces of makeup she must’ve put on in the morning disappearing after so many hours of not retouching it. “I don’t know why you insist on waiting for the bus.”

She looks at him then, eyes twinkling—in the time that he has gotten closer to her, he has known a few things. They shine when she’s happy, sad, angry; it’s as though her eyes can’t help but show her heart, and all he wants to do is protect it. “I don’t want you to think I’m using you.”

Jongin scoffs at that. “I know you would never use me.”

“Still.” She replies, fixing the black bomber jacket he had thrown over a gray t-shirt, playing with the edge as she speaks. “You already do enough by spending every Saturday night with me.”

His cheeks fluff out at that, a pout on his tone as he speaks. “I enjoy spending time with you.”

“I know you do.” She imitates his voice before sighing. “For some goddamned reason, but you do.”

“I love it when you talk films and science fiction with me even though I don’t understand a thing, what can I say?”

“You said we were going to watch Just My Luck next week.”

“I did say that,” Jongin mumbles, eyes trailing down to her lips. The speckles of her lip-gloss have disappeared, leaving them in their natural color, void of any decoration, and yet calling him out for his lack of attention. Jongin knows the two of them—a man who stopped believing in people wanting him for something more than sex, and a woman who went through the same. Circumstances that they could understand with different outcomes. They meet in the magic ways of life, in the dulcetness of being seen as a person, speaking and talking to their heart’s content, falling in silence and yet, screaming out the words that they never say. “You look pretty tonight. Always, but uh, tonight specially.”

“Thank you.” She breathes out, the words curling her lips in a pretty smile, and Jongin doesn’t think he can hold it any longer. This longing of conversation, of uniting his soul with someone else’s. For the first time, he wants to believe.

It’s in the bend of her waist, in the way she seems to understand him in ways that no one did, how she grasps his face in between her hands and brings him forward, half of his body hovering over hers as she kisses him. Not a single word of lust, not a moment of suspicion—no matter how many women had kissed him, how many bodies he had touched, the things he did and what he did not, she saw past them. For, he is not Kim Kai, he is not a call boy—he’s the man she calls when she wants to see him, talk to him, feel him like a presence beside her, not over her. He’s Kim Jongin to her, and that’s more than he ever expected.

Her lips are not as experienced as one would have imagined. She takes her time, a woman with a lollipop between her lips that doesn’t want to break her teeth. She doesn’t want to bite too soon, eat more of him in ways that would have his plump lips growing redder. Instead, she takes her time, and takes him as well, perhaps whispering in the depths of her heart that he deserves this. A kiss that feels as though he is not wanted, not needed for the scratch of an itch, for filling what was once left void, he is not desired. He’s wished upon. He’s a star. A dream, a thought, a feeling—

His fingers sneak around her waist, lifting some of the hoodie up to feel the warmth of her skin through her white t-shirt. Those portions of her she had never shown to anyone—the parts she talks about in between laughs, trying to mask them as miniscule beings, those are the ones he wants to know. Jongin has never been a romanticist, but what would be of him if he missed an opportunity like that?

Some wheels roll over the street, and when she pulls away, the glint of his saliva ends up over her lips, chest heaving, and the beat of her heart matches his with their chests pressed. Her hands come up, they always do, hiding those lips he doesn’t want to let go of, and she touches the skin there as she says: “I just missed my bus, Jongin!”

With a fleeting kiss over her lips, he says: “Let me take you home.” He adds, though, he tilts his head to the side. “Or I can wait here. Just, please, let me spend some more time with you.”

She laughs at this. “You could have anyone and yet, you choose to have me?”

“Who is anyone when there’s you?” Jongin retorts, watching her lick her bottom lip, mouth falling from its smile to look down at his lips. This time around, she takes the first step—decisions made by her, words left unspoken that tell him he’s the first man she has found fitting in a while. Not fitting for her, but worth her time.

Intimacy at its finest, Jongin can say he has felt a lot—desire, lust, hatred, disgust, sadness, hopelessness. Yet, this is different.

It’s the first time he has felt accepted.

It’s the first time he can say he feels like he is under a spell, one that he can’t get out of.

#kai scenarios #kai #exo scenarios #exo #kpop scenarios #writing #kai fluff #kai angst #kai au #exo fluff #exo angst #exo au #call boy!au #...........i said i was going to write this with ksoo #but i watched the mmmh video and this happened #so #there you go #tell me your opinions if you can!!!

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sadachmesarthim · 3 years

Note

For the sentence starters I need 16 and 34 please!

this has porn in it, so ur all aware. links are sfw, text is not

for you, my dear, anything. sorry it took so long, i'm giving you what i have now. 'm gonna come back to it n do a second part when i can 😘

song for this one is UGH! by the 1975

@longlivestarker some light plug content 4 u! @bluestarker i love u for this one

he’s got peter pinned, yet again overtaking the younger superhero. they’d been training for a few hours at this point, and both were feeling the effects of such an intense workout.

it was tony that insisted they all start rigorous combat training. after stitching the universe back together, a good majority of the avengers realized they weren’t exactly cut out for extraterrestrial hand-to-hand.

peter honestly didn’t see the point. he was stronger than anyone there, faster. he could swing or run away if he really needed to... but tony continued to hound him over it. he caved, finally, after a solid two weeks of pestering from the older man. he only conceded when tony’d promised to leave him alone after one (1) trial session.

one session turned into two, then four, and quickly became several hours every single day. peter really wasn’t complaining at that point, though - it was a great opportunity to get tony shirtless, and he genuinely was getting better at kicking ass unaided. street vigilantism doesn’t really facilitate developing finesse, and he enjoyed sparring without consequences. what could he say, he loved teachable moments.

apparently a bit too much, from the position he found himself in.

tony might have been a “normal” human man - no super strength or enhanced awareness to give him an edge over his coworkers. what he *did* have, though, were eyes, and enough situational awareness to pick up on the kid’s sudden enjoyment of their previously 'useless' training time. his exposed, sweaty form did quite a bit to the young man in front of him, and tony wasn’t upset about it. like, at all. quite the opposite, actually - why else would he have been so adamant about being the person peter trained with?

but now, having pinned peter’s wrists to the floor in an attempt to subdue him, tony was rethinking his motives decision.

the sight of peter below him - drenched in sweat, pink and red embarrassment quickly overtaking his cheeks, his ears, his neck... absolutely helpless and trembling in tony’s grasp...

he found himself hard. this wasn’t the way his tuesday was supposed to go, but jesus, he wasn't complaining.

and peter, christ. the poor kid. tony could feel the piqued interest under his hips, peter visibly trying (and failing, miserably) to restrain himself from pushing up into the presence above him. he whimpered, soft and pathetic, like he was begging for tony to stop and keep going and fuck, do anything, please, all at once.

tony smiled, entertained by his desperation. “come on, kid. i know for a fact you can be louder than that.”

peter groaned. it was overwhelming, so much and not enough all at once, and oh my god tony was on top of him. tony was grinding back down on peter’s dick and enjoying it. his flush deepened, a desperate ‘nggh, oh fuck, god, tony, please’ wrenching itself from peter’s throat before he could think to stop it.

"love the noises you make, pete, fuck. you gotta slow down, though, baby, and tell me what you want." tony continued directing as much smooth pressure he could down toward the writhing figure beneath him, laughing lightly. peter sounded delicious like this, so fucking needy, & tony wasn’t planning on letting him up any time soon.

peter, already way too frustrated and way too turned on, took the opportunity when he saw it - just as tony was shifting his hips backward, peter thrust up, hooking an arm around tony's elbow and using the leverage to flip their positions.

"can't just pin me here & tell me to slow down. don’t start something you can’t finish, old man.” heat flooded through tony at the quip - he wasn’t prepared for the display of power, for the sass. this was so much better than what he’d planned for, so much better than the writhing & submissive boy he'd had just a few seconds ago.

“i know you like this, baby, but i think you’d like it a lot more if we took off our clothes.” and christ, peter did. he liked seeing tony underneath him - liked feeling his ass pressing against tony's cock, clothed or otherwise. but the idea sounded phenomenal - getting tony out of those stupid fucking track pants, being able to feel so much more.

he released tony's hands, allowing him to reach down and undo the tie at his waist. peter did the same, sitting up on his knees and giving them both enough space to strip down.

"jesus fucking christ, you're kidding." of course tony'd be sparring commando. only him, peter thought.

"what, don't say you haven't pictured this before. can you blame me for wanting to show up prepared??"

that's the fucked part of it - he had pictured it before - so many times. even before they made it routine, he'd fantasized about it. tony grabbing him, pinning him down in the suit, metal fingers shredding his million dollar combat suit with little more than a thought. dreamt about it - tony fingering him stupid on the mats, doors unlocked and open for anyone to catch them. imagined webbing them up, riding tony while he was literally stuck to the ceiling. making him completely helpless to peter's wants and needs.

he'd shown up prepared, before, too - even today. he'd worked himself open, stretching enough to take his favorite plug. half of training is mental, anyway. seeing if he could fight with a plug in was both filthy fantasy and a challenge.

"fuck, no, but christ tony... if you don't do something i swear to god i'll do it for you." that earned him another laugh, broken & tinged with lust - confirmation that tony'd been waiting for this just as long.

"you have no idea how good that sounds kid," tony mused, taking the moment to finally get his hands on the poor little spider. every muscle was twitching, so incredibly responsive to the circles tony was rubbing into his ilium. peter jerked into the contact, falling forward onto tony's chest.

the pressure between them mounted, spurred on by the bare contact of their cocks against one another. it was heady, fogging peter's mind with need. he'd wanted this so desperately, and was so not looking forward to it being over.

tony, the gentleman that he was, pushed peter up a bit. he spit excessively into his hand and - oh fuck, tony please, oh god, - began pulling peter off in earnest. he was entirely unprepared for just how good it felt, arching into tony's grasp. peter lurched, grinding his bare ass down tony’s groin & fucking up into his fist.

peter looked down just as something feral flashed through tony’s eyes. suddenly aware of just how wide his legs were spread, he realized: tony felt his plug. there’s no way he missed it.

tony released the hair in his left hand, snaking it down between peter’s twitching cheeks. he toyed with the plug, smirking when peter’s movement stuttered. tony hooked two fingers around the base, damn near *tearing* it out of him.

another feeling - something like pride and lust and jealousy all mixed - surged through him when he saw exactly what he pulled from peter’s ass.

in his hand, he held a custom “iron slut” plug. tony’d seen things like it before - he wasn’t a stranger to weird social media photo replies. this was so much more, though - gold colored metal shining under the fluorescents, little red rhinestones encrusting the flared end. tony’s colors, peter had tony’s colors inside him.

he growled, tossing the plug to the side. he reached back down, excited to feel excess lube still leaking from peter’s hole. he pressed two fingers in, savoring the small stretch he still needed to fully enter peter.

the kid cursed, clawing down tony’s shoulders. he knew he was sensitive but fuck, he’d never experienced anything like it before. he could feel everything, every single ridge of his fingerprints, every press of flared knuckles against his prostate. it was perfect, so balanced on the edge of too much and not enough.

peter was splitting at the seams, close to drawing blood with how deep his nails had dug into tony’s flesh. he keened, whiny moans sprinkled between gasps and cries of "fuck, fuck me tony please, need you so bad”

tony twisted his fingers, forcing peter to feel the ridges of his fingers everywhere. "oh god, nngh tony, fuck, mr. stark please, i'm-"

"don't hold back, baby. you gonna cum from just my fingers in your greedy little hole? tell me just how much you want it, baby." he ended each phrase with the drag of his fingertips along peter's prostate, just enough to push him over.

peter’s whole body shook, entirely not used to being handled the way it just had. he fell forward, pleasure overriding strength.

peter came with tony's name on his lips, breathy little puffs of air just brushing the skin of his shoulder. tony fucked him through it, only letting up and pulling out when peter’s sounds turned painful.

once he’d come down enough, peter sat himself up, blushing at the man under him. “i can’t believe we just did that in the gym, tony!”

“what, was that not how you wanted to spend your morning, petey?” tony smirked, already aware of the answer.

“oh my good shut up!”

#starker #peter parker x tony stark #peter parker/tony stark #.mine #.text #.ficpost #i didn't edit this or even look it over post copy&paste pls go easy #nff #not family friendly #like a lot

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norringtxn · 2 years

Text

confrontational & disappointed … sentence starters || @emcads said: “Just take this and go. I’m done. I’m done with all of it.”

The ring is tossed back at him. Well, it’s thrown would be a more accurate description. Delicate thing that had once sat so elegantly on her finger, a symbol of an eternal promise. A broken promise, for he had not been truthful to her, not even when he slid it into place and had kissed his way around her wrist and up her arm until he found her lips.

That moment feels like it happened years ago now, his entire bubble shattered around him as his identity is revealed and her heart is broken. The ring bounces off his chest, falling unceremoniously to the floor and resting at his feet.

Imbecile. Fool. He doesn’t deserve her. Never did, not when he has spun such a web of lies that not even he can tell where it begins and where it ends.

And yet, as much as he wants to obey her order and remove himself from her sight for the rest of their years, he cannot. His heart aches with the grief of losing her, and he wants nothing more than to embrace her pain away. He could open himself up to her, show her that Green and Norrington are one and the same.

But it’s too late for that, isn’t it?

“Esmeralda, please… I… you cannot truly want me to leave… do you?”

#{ ask: ic }#{ emcads }#{ v: storm in her eyes peace in her smile | disgraced verse | emcads }#// :^)!!!

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museswithinx · 3 years

Note

“I’m in pumpkin spice hell.” { Connor for Haley }

Autumn/Halloween Sentence Starters

In the spirit of Halloween, Haley decided that they were going to decorate this year. Just the front porch for show, nothing too crazy like they'd already seen at the McKay's house. Connor wasn't entirely happy about it nor the shopping trip she was dragging him on for decorations but he'd just have to deal with it.

While Connor was left in charge of pushing the cart, she picked out what she wanted for the porch. Some cob webs with fake plastic spiders, a couple of pumpkins for them to carve up, one of those fake skeletons, a few rubber bats. "Hm. Purple lights or orange?" She prompts as she picks up two boxes, looking between them. "Fuck it, we'll go with both. Orange is so boring on its own anyway."

Setting both in the cart, she turns noting the look on his face with a smirk. "Now there's a cute face. What's the matter? Too spooky for you?"

“I’m in pumpkin spice hell.”

Haley laughs at his utter disdain for this season. "Well look on the bright side, babe. That's you and every other Hunter man this month." She quips with an amused look. "Also I completely resent that. There is not a single thing in this cart that is pumpkin spice scented so you can breathe easy. Our house isn't going to smell like a damn Starbucks in Fall. Now come on, grumpy. I want to look at some grave stones for the front yard."

#ofstrengthisms #( haley bennett sims ; )#( i don't like anyone but you ; haley & connor )#autumn/halloween starters #answered #//a little shopping fun with them #we love to see Connor soooo in the spirit LOL

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takingback-thepenguin · 2 years

Text

Since three more episodes have come out, here is a list of more sentence starters from Shipwrecked’s web-series, Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Story, this time from episodes 4, 5, and 6. Some of the lines have been edited to fit as sentence starters, and feel free to change pronouns/add names/etc as you see fit. Tw: Death, food, smoking mention, violence/killing mention, blood, general tws that go with The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

Episode 4: The Star on the Stage

“To make matters worse, he's/she’s/they’ve got a crush.”

“Maybe she'll/he’ll/they’ll see that he's/she’s/they’re just mmmm...not that appealing.”

“Oh, come on, man.”

“How's the landlord?”

“I’m just waiting for her/him/them to wake up and accuse me of murder.”

“Go lock the door.”

“I don't have long.”

“His/Her/Their tombstone says he/she/they died in 1776!”

“What the-? This is trippy as hell.”

“My hands smell like hands.”

“Oh snap! I'm alive!”

“Yo, this is tight!”

“Being six feet underground was a bit of a bummer.”

“I died doing what I loved.”

“Whoops.”

“Why does your tombstone say you died in 1776?”

“I'm committed to being the best re-enactor there ever was.”

“You guys got any hot Cheetos?”

“This is a disaster.”

“I have to go to this show.”

“_____’s saving me a seat.”

“Yoooo, is this you??”

“Whoa, look at that!”

“That's funny.”

“Oh, my God. Your yearbook!”

“Are you sitting backwards in a chair?”

“They told us to do that.”

“_____ wrote "Butts!!"

“It's been a wild ride.”

“Thanks for everything.”

“See you on the other side.”

“Wow. Ominous.”

“We've been through a lot.”

“She/He/They want(s) me to invite you.”

“You don't sound very enthused.”

“It's just, I don't really—”

“I would love to!”

“Oh, my gosh, I love live theatre.”

“I love live anything.”

“Get it?”

“This guy/gal/one gets it.”

“Hey, can we stop at a 7-Eleven on the way there?”

“Do those still exist?”

“All right, whatever. Cool.”

“Aren't you going to sing about this?”

“Bard Union says I need to take a four hour break every 30 minutes.”

“How do you get into the bard union?”

“_____! You made it.”

“Oh hey, I'm _____.”

“Hey, maybe we should all stop talking because the show's about to start.”

“I think our production of this annual tradition is going to blow your socks off!”

“Art is messy.”

“Enjoy the history of Sleepy Hollow!”

“I was in this play when I was ten! Really got me into history.”

“Oh, hi! I didn't see you there.”

“You sure did spook me.”

“Wait a minute. That's my job.”

“Um, wrong.”

“To tell you my story, I need to start from the beginning.”

“Ugh, do your research!”

“Lunchable?”

“Cutie?”

“I got an idea!”

“What have I done? What have I done?”

“Man, I know so much stuff. I really wasted my potential.”

“Ham?”

“Hey, _____. What are you doing after this?”

“Shut up.”

“This is my favorite part.”

“My mom used to tell me this story when I was a kid. Freaked me out so bad.”

“The Woman in White is said to haunt the woods, alerting those who pass to steer clear! Lest they be caught in a deadly storm, as she was.”

“Stay away from Raven Rock!”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I am not jealous of _____.”

“Okay, boss.”

“That's ten miles away.”

“They have a spa there I just love.”

“I have a referral.”

“Are you, a grown man/woman/person, actually asking about the logistics of ghost hauntings?”

“Uh, the other kids are asking if you can drive us to Denny's.”

“Oh, fine.”

“No singing.”

“Has anyone ever figured out how that story began?”

“That stuff's poisonous.”

“I'll go stop him/her/them.”

“I have to get back to work anyway.”

“If I leave _____ alone too long, things start disappearing into other dimensions.”

“Well, I got to go to work, too, right? Work on making lunch! Yeah!”

“Tuna sandos! Less red meat!”

“So? You, uh...headed back to the graveyard soon?”

“Why would he/she/they go to the graveyard?”

“I've hotboxed in the mausoleum!”

“I don't know if you can tell, but I party.”

“I coulda used that during the historical abomination we just witnessed.”

“Hit me!”

“Oh, my God!”

“This is—“ “A scientific anomaly?”

“This is incredible!”

“My mother used to tell me stories about the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.”

“I wish my mom was here to meet you.”

“_____’s been, like, casting spells.”

“It's a whole group thing.”

“I-I promised my dad I'd watch _____ with him this afternoon, but I really want to help.”

“Things are getting interesting with you around, _____.”

“Well, looks like that blew up in your face.”

“I knew she'd/he’d/they’d be DTF. Down to…find. The head.”

“It's a little risky for me right now.”

“You kind of owe me one.”

“I want her/him/them to represent me in court tomorrow.”

“Coast is clear. Let's boogie.”

“Let's boogie, _____.”

Episode 5: The Chaos In Court

“Where have you been?”

“Your court date starts in 10 minutes.”

“He/She/They was/were acting so weird.”

“Just…go look, go look over there.”

“Check it out!”

“Something tells me that she’s/he’s/they’re not an attorney at law.”

“Hey, what's up fam?”

“Hey, sorry I've been AWOL for a minute.”

“I'm going to be real with you for a second.”

“It totally bummed me out.”

“Okay, bye. Nice.”

“Check it out.”

“Hey, introduce yourself, man!”

“Oh, man! Pantsed!”

“Oh man. I look great.”

“Who would want more of this?”

“So many people want more of this.”

“Oh, who, me?“

“What's up? I'm waiting on an important delivery.”

“Are you helping _____?”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“We don't have a lot of time.”

“Okay, stop. I know!”

“We need to be able to trust each other!”

“Why is it that I see you every day?”

“Oh, no! What a bummer.”

“'Sup, _____?”

“Your beachy locks are looking particularly effortless today.”

“Prove it.”

“I bet you're really, really happy with yourself.”

“That was...very hard to hear.”

“I think of myself as the Marty McFly of my life, obviously.”

“Am I the villain?”

“Did I just Biff my relationship with _____?”

“Candygram for _____!”

“These are on loan from the town archives.”

“I'm going to need you to be exceptionally careful.”

“Don't, like, use them as coasters or get any of your fake blood on them.”

“I'm talking to you.”

“It wasn't fake.”

“I'll be back for these soon.”

“Don't forget to stretch at least once an hour.”

“Thanks, _____.”

“I know how you can make it up to _____.”

“You can help me sort through all these documents.”

“Pound it.”

“Oh, no thanks.”

“Guilty!”

“Not guilty! I mean, of...of crime.”

“I’m guilty of being _____. I'm _____.”

“You were—you wanted to know if I was _____?”

“Oh, God. I feel sick.”

“Oh, hey, Pepto?”

“Good call.”

“Please, I need to stay under the radar and just get through this.”

“And this is...?”

“I'm the defendant's counsel, _____.”

“I may not have a law degree, but I do have plenty of unpaid parking tickets.”

“Is that...the newest iPhone?”

“I'm looking to upgrade.”

“How is the camera on that?”

“Interesting! Let's talk after.”

“You are charged with trespassing.”

“I might have known.”

“Can you please recount the events of that day?”

“There I was, working the graveyard shift—literally—when I came across this ne'er-do-well doing no well.”

“Is this true?”

“Were you doing no well?”

“You're supposed to be helping me!”

“Hey, you can't handle the truth, man!”

“Hey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

“Boom! That's what two years at Houdini Summer Camp for Children will getcha.”

“My socials need a glow-up! Can you help me?”

“I got you.”

“Oh man, you're drenched!”

“When did you have time to make all this, slime?”

“Do not try this at home.”

“I am a licensed prankster.”

“I have my degree in biochemistry from MIT.”

“I got 50 hours of community service.”

“Hope you're happy.”

“You hungry?”

“What I did was supremely uncool.”

“Using our magical abilities to thrust you into the clutches of an unjust legal system was very unchill of me.”

“I’m filled with regret.”

“Not to stress you out any more, but my dad wants to have you over for dinner tomorrow.”

“That actually might not be true.”

“We did some digging.”

“I got to head home.”

“I promised Dad I'd watch _____, but, um...I'lI see you tomorrow?”

“You won!”

“Will murdering _____ cheer you up?”

“I guess just look for a giant yogurt truck!”

“Oh, you guys got me so good.”

“Prankster becomes the prankee. Nice!”

“Oh my God, my head.”

“Choose your destiny.”

“Where am I?”

“What's happening?”

“No, no, no. It's okay.”

“You're like, um, a magical zombie.”

“Everything's okay!”

Episode 6: The Distractions At Dinner

“No! Don't hang up. Don't hang up.”

“You have to stop calling me.”

“I think I could really help you!”

“No, _____ you can't come here.”

“I'm so good at characters.”

“I took an improv class and I never even got to the show.”

“Please let me do this!”

“_____ will recognize you.”

“I'm trying to impress _____.”

“I can't have a weird ghost zombie showing up.”

“_____ is going to investigate while he's/she’s/they’re distracted.”

“I have to go.”

“I missed the whole song!”

“Dude, that was my best stuff.”

“Can you play it again?”

“Our sacrifice to the Pagan gods is here.”

“_____, my good man/woman/person, our guest of honor! Welcome.”

“Does _____ need any more help in the kitchen?”

“She's/He’s/They’re finishing up.”

“Any more vagrant sightings at the Old Dutch House?”

“Hope she/he/they wake(s) up soon.

“You know about that.”

“Oh, you heard?”

“Look out! We have a new resident bad boy/girl/one!”

“What are you doing?”

“There could be invisible lasers!”

“Your DNA is getting everywhere!”

“Oh, my blood.”

“Is there DNA in blood?“

“Is there DNA in blood? I sure hope not cause it’s everywhere.”

“You can see where she/he/they get(s) her/his/their good looks!”

“She/He/They got her/his/their obstinate streak from Yours Truly.”

“She/He/They wrote the book on local legends.”

“There wasn't a haunted rock or a bewitched gas station within 100 miles that she/he/they didn't know about.”

“Before you leave, pick up a few of her/his/their books and read up.”

“Uh, did she/he/they ever mention the Headless Horseman?”

“Oh, haven't you seen him/her/them yet?”

“You're not a true resident of Sleepy Hollow until you think you've seen the Headless Horseman.”

“She/He/They always thought the best of people.”

“She/He/They got taken with conspiracy theories.”

“Not sure where we lost her/him/them.”

“Wonder who that could be.”

“There's um, someone here for you.”

“Hey, how are ya?”

“I parked in a red zone, but they don't ticket on weeknights.”

“Nice to meet ya.”

“I hope you don't mind, I brought my Dunkies.”

“I'll, uh, set another place.”

“I must say, _____, I have a feeling we've met before.”

“I don't think so.”

“I have one of these.”

“Now that is sus.”

“What do you do?”

“I just got recruited by the CIA, actually.”

“You know, CSI, SVU, NBC, you know.”

“They've been scoutin' me for a while due to my ability to solve crimes.”

“Turns out? I'm wicked good at it!”

“That's a noble pursuit.”

“Public safety, justice, it all sounds thrilling!”

“You know, I've heard there's actually a lot of paperwork involved. Not like on TV.”

“I’ve never done any paperwork.”

“Whoa, check this out. It's a manuscript.”

“I often wonder if I'd ever have the chance to meet the ghost myself.”

“Perhaps this weekend, l'll finally come face to face with destiny.”

“I'll be ready.”

“Where would I put the evidence? Maybe in an old phone like this?”

“Go long!”

“Why?”

“Shhhhh.”

“This is, like, a million years old.”

“This is real leather.”

“I really hope she's/he’s/they’re not up here working.”

“Uh, we can explain!”

“_____ and I are in love!”

“We're meeting here for our lover's rendezvous.”

“It's the last place anyone would think to look for us!”

“I noticed you're admiring the chandelier.”

“We try not to speak about him/her/them.”

“More rolls?”

“I think you might be interested in a little dessert.”

“It's an old family recipe.”

“Shall we?”

“Oh, my God, you guys, that's amazing!”

“How long has this been going on?”

“I'd marry her/him/them...if I could.”

“Who would accept us?”

“Oh, God your skin is so cold.”

“You know what? I can marry you right now, I'm ordained!”

“It's, like, a lot.”

“No, no. There's no need.”

“Weddings are expensive.”

“There's so much to do!”

“My mom's not here.”

“Oh, I insist.”

“Hooray.”

“It's me!”

“I know.”

“I told you to stay home.”

“They're in my ear, like, telling me cool stuff to say.”

“This is the dumbest idea.”

“I heard that!”

“They told me to say that.”

“Now if you could just, uh, sign here and here for me.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

“You may kiss the bride.”

“I can't do it. I cant do it.”

“Do it, do it. Do it. Oh, God!!”

“I always cry at weddings.”

“What makes you so sure he's/she’s/they’re responsible anyways?”

“The last thing I remember is _____ giving me a drink and then pain.”

“He/She/They poisoned you? Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“I was a great assistant.”

“I'm, like, very good at accents.”

“Try to remember!”

“You have to go.”

“I am so close to getting a confession!”

“High time for pie time!”

“Look who I found.”

“I thought we might raise a toast.”

“You sure you don't want a piece of this delicious pie?”

“Sox game starts in ten.”

“Thanks for dinner.”

“I'm watching you.”

“Lovely to meet you.”

“Listen, if you're ever back in town, don’t be a stranger.”

“I am not a stranger.”

“Oh, excuse me.”

“Don't touch my pie, _____.”

“Okay, what is going on? Who was that?”

“I just picked one at random.”

“Here's the thing, and it's funny. You're—You're going to laugh.”

“She/He/They think(s) that your dad killed her/him/them.”

“I know, It's crazy! Pie?”

“Why would my father kill her/him/them?”

“You don’t think that she/he/they knew something?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“You're actually taking her/him/them seriously?”

“I think you should leave.”

“Get out!”

“Please don't.”

“We had a deal. And I am not renegotiating it.”

#sentence starters #sentence starter meme #sentence starter prompts #rp sentence starters #tw: food #tw: death #tw: smoking mention #tw: violence mention #tw: murder mention #tw: blood

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