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btxtreads · 4 years

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country boy - kth

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader Word Count: 9.4k Genre: fluff, smut, Cowboy!Taehyung Rating: +18 Trigger Warnings: oral (m-receiving), fingering, denied orgasm, penetrative sex, delayed orgasm, unprotected sex (pls wrap it b4 u tap it), just rlly cringey smut im sorry Banner Credits: Thank you so much for @kimtaehyunq of the Bangtan Headquarters Editing Team for this banner! It’s so pretty??? ajshjsahjsa

*some scenes inspired by the Hannah Montana movie and Girl Meets Texas because I have no country knowledge. I just felt the cowboy Taehyung spirit*

The tranquil plains and farmlands was nothing like the tall, concrete buildings and noisy traffic-filled roads that Y/N was used to.

Her eyes almost rolled back in exasperation as the car rolled onto a driveway leading up to a decently-sized wooden house complete with horses and a small cabbage patch at the side.

The perfect image that describes country.

Y/N’s father turned and faced her with a grin.

“We’re home, pumpkin,” he said.

“Right,” Y/N tried to smile—she really did, but she couldn’t. How could she?

Her father told her that he was going to England for three months for his job—which Y/N was totally fine with. What she didn’t understand was why she couldn’t go with, or at the very least stay in her house alone with her dad.

Why did she have to stay back with her grandmother?

Y/N stepped out of the car, a pained smile on her face as she watched her father unload her suitcases from his car.

“Alright, I’ll see you in about—ten weeks?” her father asked as he handed off the suitcases to Y/N who only sighed.

“Dad, I really don’t get why I have to stay here.” Y/N said, her eyes darting around the area. “I could’ve stayed with mom.”

Y/N’s father’s eyes turned sad.

“Honey, your mother’s busy—“

“Ah, yes. Too busy fucking her boyfriend to house her daughter for three months. I forgot.”

“Y/N!” Her father chastised to which Y/N only rolled her eyes.

“Why can’t I just stay alone at home? Or go with you?” Y/N sighed. “Why here?”

The two’s heads turned as the door to the house opened, revealing Y/N’s grandparents with a wide smile.

“Because you haven’t been back here since the divorce three years ago. Grandpa and Grandpa really miss you.” Her father explained softly.

Y/N only sighed, looking up at the sky in frustration.

“Whatever, let’s just get this over with,”

She now has to spend three months in the country. No friends, shitty wifi, no way out.

Except maybe an unruly horse.

Y/N sat in the living room, her father long gone as he drove back to the city for his flight the following morning.

Her grandmother came carrying a small platter of freshly baked cookies.

“Still hot!” She said as Y/N smiled softly.

No matter how much she despised the country now, she would never tell her grandparents.

Her grandparents were her only anchor during her parents’ divorce—her grandmother a total sweetheart who bakes cookies and cakes for all her cravings and her grandfather being a tad enthusiastic in learning the ins-and-outs for all her passions and interests.

No, this was the least she could do—pretend she was having at least a decent time.

Y/N gulped and took a cookie.

“Thanks, grandma.”

“Oh, and I invited some of your friends over, by the way.” Her grandfather said, appearing at the doorway to the kitchen. “Thought you’d want to catch up with them, kid.”

“I have friends?” Y/N asked, raising her eyebrow. “Who?”

“Oh dear, Jin, Hoseok, Namjoon and Chaeri, remember?” Her grandmother asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“Ah, them.” Y/N nodded.

She supposed the three of them were her friends—in a way.

Friends she hasn’t spoken to since she was ten.

There was a series of knocks at the door which made Y/N flinch.

“Ah, reckon that’s them. You should get the door, honey.” Her grandmother said, moving towards the kitchen. “I’ll leave you children be to chatter.”

“Okay, thanks.” Y/N shrugged, standing up to get the door.

She was greeted with a tall boy with slicked back hair, a plaid polo, and a heart-shaped smile.

“Howdy,”

“Hello, Hoseok.” Y/N smiled softly backing away and waving him in as she peeked at his companions. “Seokjin, Namjoon, Chaeri. Come in!”

“Oh, it’s Hobi, Jin, Joon and Chae,” Hoseok said, waving nonchalantly as he took a seat on the couch. “We’re friends!”

“Sure,” Y/N shrugged, closing the door as she took a seat on the armchair opposite Hoseok. “We haven’t talked in like—what, fifteen years? Felt awkward to call you that.”

“Once friends, always friends,” Namjoon smiled as Jin nodded along.

“So, how have you been, how’s the city treating you?” Chaeri asked, leaning over. “Any cute city boys you wanna tell me about?”

As Y/N chuckled, Jin scoffed at the Chaeri.

“Please, I’m the most handsome person you’d ever meet. Y/N probably hasn’t found anyone handsome since me.” Jin commented.

“Ah, yes. Worldwide handsome, I think i remember.” Y/N nodded.

Jin grinned, pointing finger guns at the girl.

“Well, the city’s been great. I got a lot of great friends, and met a lot of cute guys, Chaeri—but no one as handsome as you, Jin.”

“See?” Jin boasted, grinning at his friends.

“I’ve seen handsomer,” Chaeri commented.

“I’m your boyfriend!” Jin gasped, appalled. “I should be the most handsome creature in the entire planet for you!”

“You guys are dating?” Y/N smiled, tilting her head.

“Yeah, and they’re disgusting.” Hoseok stuck his tongue out at the couple.

“They’ve been dating since two years ago—they’re pretty clingy.” Namjoon commented, to which Chaeri tutted.

“Yeah, no. Jin is clingy—I’m not.” Chaeri shook her head and pushed a whining Jin away.

“Anyways, how have you guys been here?” Y/N asked, changing the topic.

“Ah, good enough,” Hoseok shrugged.

“The old plains we used to hang around in became a pub. Oh, and Hansul’s sister went to the city to train to be a famous idol.” Namjoon recalled.

“Is she?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah, also our grade school teacher—remember her?—got remarried for the fourth time after you left,” Hoseok shared.

“Again?”

“Yes! The guy had a son, about our age—Taehyung. They moved here weeks after the marriage.” Chaeri gossiped. “Took the town by storm,”

“Took the town’s girls by storm,” Jin huffed.

“Ah, let me guess. A fuck-boy?” Y/N asked.

“Not really, he doesn’t really mind them much. Never really saw him flirt back to any of them—spare a girl or two.” Namjoon shrugged, leaning back.

“Ah, a heart-throb, then?”

“Sure,” Hoseok said. “You could call him that,”

“Hm,” Y/N said, shaking her head before shooting the group a mischievous smile—changing the topic. “So, tell me something—Does Namjoon know how to saddle a horse now?”

“Maybe if he didn’t keep breaking saddles every day.”

“Hey!”

It was hours after Jin and Chaeri they had to go for a date night, which prompted Hoseok and Namjoon to leave as well.

Y/N then decided to go out on her own to familiarize and acclimatize to her childhood home—after all, she’ll be here for three whole months.

It’s been two hours of aimless wandering when she reached the field she used to play with her friends when she was younger.

Her eyes landed on the big wooden-building with the big signboard that said “Big Billy Restaurant and Pub.”

“Oh, so, this is the new pub,” Y/N said to herself.

Moments later, a boy—about her age—stumbles out of the pub wobbly and red-faced, with a bottle of whiskey still in hand.

It was a look Y/N knew from her time in the city—he was shit-faced drunk.

Y/N chuckled, gazing at the boy who seemed to have had more alcohol than he could handle.

As soon as she turned around to leave, she could hear him clearly scream “you!” from the top of his lungs.

Y/N jumped in her spot and turned, raising an eyebrow. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” The boy said, clutching the beer in his hands. “youuuuuuuuu.”

“Meeeeeee… what?”

The boy collapsed on his knees and sobbed. “You broke my heart!”

“I did what now?” Y/N dead-panned as the boy wailed in front of her. “Dude, get up. What the fuck?”

“Ji-eun! Why?” The boy wailed, pounding on his chest with his fist. “I-I did everything for you! I loved you so much!”

He sniffled as he took another swig of his whiskey.

“My name is Y/N—“

“What did I do wrong th-that made you replace me?” The boy slurred sadly, waving his arms. ��Whe-Where did I go wrong?”

“What?” Y/N groaned, running her fingers through her hair as she crouched down and shook the boy’s shoulders. “Buddy, I’m not Ji-eun. I’m gonna go.”

As soon as she finished her words, the boy let out a loud sob and jumped on her, clutching pathetically at her torso.

“Dude, let go of me.” Y/N hissed as the boy sobbed in her chest.

“Ji-eun, please! Be with me again! I don’t care if you want me to be your second man, I’ll be okay with that.”

“That’s so pathetic—“

“Ya, Yoongi-hyung, that’s enough.” A deep voice chastised from a few feet away.

Y/N’s head shot up, her eyes landing on a tall raven-haired boy frowning a few feet away.

He was, in simple words, majestic—godly—etheral.

His eyes were the prettiest shade of dark brown she’s ever seen, black hair slightly gelled and parted in the middle—showing a little forehead, his denim jacket snug on his body.

He grinned a little as he studied the sight.

“Ah, hyung. What am I going to do with you?”

The boy, Yoongi, only sniffled as he pulled back from Y/N.

“Taehyung, Ji-eun—“

Y/N’s eyes wandered back over to Taehyung with an open mouth. So this is the teacher’s step-son Taehyung who moved here.

“That’s not Ji-eun.” Taehyung chuckled, walking over to help Yoongi up. “Now, how about we stop bothering the little lady and apologize.”

“But—“

“I’ll help you talk to Ji-eun tomorrow, Yoongi-hyung,” Taehyung shook his head, shooting Y/N a small grin as Joon-hyuk pouted. “Now, come on,”

“S-Sorry,” Yoongi hiccuped, his lower lip shaking in a sad pout.

“Uh, that’s fine,” Y/N shook her head, amused.

“Can you wait for me out here?” Taehyun asked to which Y/N only raised an eyebrow to.

“Uh, sure?”

“Thanks, I’ll be right out.”

“Sure,” Y/N shrugged. “Goodluck with Ji-eun, Yoongi.”

Yoongi burst into tears as Taehyung snorted, leading him back into the pub.

Three minutes later, he sauntered out of the building with a smile.

“I’m back,” Taehyung said. “I’ll take you home now,”

“Thanks, but no need,” Y/N shook her head. “I can do just fine on my own,”

“I don’t mind, it was the least I could do after that whole scene with Yoongi-hyung.” Taehyung smiled, waving her hand. “Lead the way.”

Y/N bit her lip as Taehyung’s smile widened.

“Come on, I insist.”

“If you’re sure.” Y/N shrugged, starting to walk as Taehyung matched her pace beside her—hands in his pockets as he hummed. “Is your friend okay?”

“Oh, drunk beyond belief but nothing new with him,” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “He gets drunk a lot—it’s sort of a natural state to him,”

“He’s alright, then?”

“Yeah, I called his brother to come take him home,” Taehyung shrugged before smiling again. “That’s nice of you, Taehyung.” Y/N mused.

At this, Taehyung raised his eyebrows.

“Your friend, Yoongi, called you Taehyung earlier,” Y/N explained before widening her eyes. “Oh, unless he got your name wrong too. In which case, I’m so s—“

“It’s fine,” He laughed, waving his hand. “No, it’s Taehyung, yeah.”

“Oh, goodie.” Y/N smiled as Taehyung tilted his head.

“What brings you here, L/N?”

It was Y/N’s turn to raise her eyebrows this time.

“Small town, news gets around.” Taehyung laughed. “You were a face I couldn’t recognize, and you did say you were Y/N earlier too.”

“Ah,” Y/N nods slowly, before stopping. “Wait—you were there? Why didn’t you come sooner?”

At this, Taehyung burst into laughter at Y/N’s wide eyes.

“It was really funny to see you struggle.”

“Nice to know you enjoy my pain,” Y/N mutters under her breath.

Taehyung smirked over at her. “Hm, yeah, I do,”

Y/N bit her lip, her mind threatening to cloud over with inappropriate images that should absolutely not pop up in a conversation with someone you just met.

Y/N cleared her throat, her cheeks brushing a furious shade of red as she looked up at the night sky.

“But—uh, listen. I don’t plan to take Yoong-hyung to Ji-eun tomorrow if he doesn’t remember so just—can you keep that part a secret?” Taehyung said, rubbing his hand behind his neck. “He’s just a real sweetheart with Ji-eun,”

“By sweetheart—“

“By sweetheart, I meant a real pain in in the ass.”

Y/N laughed loudly, making Taehyung grin.

“Yeah, if I understood correctly, I don’t think Ji-eun needs to have a chance to be forgiven,” she shrugged.

“Yeah, she screwed him up real nice.” Taehuyng snorted. “Yoongi-hyung’s all tough and edgy but when he falls in love—I don’t know. Ji-eun's really done it.”

“Hm, I hope he gets over it soon,”

“Yeah, me too.” Taehyung hummed in agreement.

Y/N smiled. Attractive, funny, and a gentleman who cares for his friends—how much more beautiful can this guy get?

Upon surveying her surroundings, Y/N cleared her throat once more.

“Well, we’re here,” Y/N said, pointing at her grandparents’ house behind her. “I should—uh,”

“Head inside,” Taehyung nodded, waving as Y/N slowly walked up the drive-way.

Y/N took another glance at Taehyung, which only made him chuckle.

“Good night, ma’am,” he smiled, tipping an imaginary hat.

“Good night, sir,” Y/N giggled, tipping her imaginary hat back at the boy.

Taehyung laughed out loud one last time before turning around and making his way back to the direction he came from.

Y/N shut the door behind her and leaned back on it with a sigh.

Who the fuck was that boy and why was he the hottest person she’s ever met her whole entire life?

“It’s so nice that you volunteered to give us an extra set of hands at the ranch, kiddo.” Her grandfather gushed happily as he led her over to their barn. “We could really use the help,”

“Yep, real nice,” Y/N said, teeth clenched in frustration.

It was the next morning when she woke up to a new day of what her grandmother called an “honest day’s work.”

Y/N thought it was just a country saying—how wrong she was.

After breakfast, she was immediately ushered to prepare to go help at the barn because, apparently, her father said she whole-heartedly volunteered to do ranch-work.

This was something she never said she’d do.

Her grandparents, however, were ecstatic that she wanted to “immerse in the country-side”, so what choice did she have?

Her grandfather opened the doors to the barn, and she was immediately greeted with the sight of hay—so much hay—and a boy sitting next to a large table by the corner.

There, Taehyung sat with a phone in his hand.

“Taehyung is here today, he helps us from time-to-time,” Y/N’s grandfather said, leading Y/N over to the boy.

At the sound of his name, Taehyung snapped his head up and shot the two with a smile.

Taehyung looked absolutely sinful with his messy hair, high-waisted pants and brown leather belt.

His white shirt has the sleeves rolled up, perfectly showcasing the muscles in his upper arms when he raised his hand in a wave.

“Hello, grandpa,” Taehyung grinned before winking at Y/N, tipping an invisible hat in her direction just like he did the night before. “Ma’am,”

“Taehyung,” Y/N said smiling slightly.

“Our boy Tae here will be giving a bath to old Sally and Pumpkin today to prepare them for the big horse race tomorrow,” Y/N’s grandfather explained, handing the girl over to Taehyung with a pat on his back. “Now, you help him do that, maybe take the girls for a spin while you’re at it,”

At this, Y/N’s grandfather bid the two a quick farewell and left.

Y/N gulped at Taehyung’s smirk.

“So, how’s your day, Y/N?”

“Ah, pretty great so far, I guess?” Y/N smiled nervously as Taehyung raked his eyes on her from head-to-toe.

“You look beautiful today,”

“Thank you,”

“So beautiful, that it’s a shame that you have to get out of those clothes,” Taehyung quipped happily.

Y/N’s eyes widened, her mind short-circuiting as she processed his words.

“W-What?”

Taehyung let out a guffaw when he saw her wide eyes, shooting a quick wink.

“Mind out of the gutter,” He smirked, turning around to rummage around a small cabinet nearby. “Your clothes look expensive—not to mention it’s white. Don’t want to dirty that.”

Y/N glanced down at her current outfit—a white shirt she bought from Gucci and denim shorts.

He was right.

“W-Well, you’re wearing a white shirt, too!” Y/N defended weakly to white Taehyung laughed, standing up with a plaid top in his hands.

“Yeah, well, this white shirt is worth $4 for three pieces,” Taehyung joked. “I think I can afford to ruin it a little bit,”

Y/N smiled, taking the top Taehyung was offering.

“And this shirt?”

“Spare clothes I could bear to get ruined just for you,”

Somehow, the only words Y/N’s brain processed were I could ruin you.

Trying to maintain her composure, Y/N licked her chapped lips—an action noticed by Taehyung.

Taehyung’s eyes locked onto her lips, making him lick his own as well before clearing his throat.

“Well, suit up. This is going to be fun!”

Y/N grinned.

Yeah, this was going to be fun.

It was absolutely not fun.

It was one whole week of torture, for both Taehyung and Y/N.

One whole week of “you’re doing it wrong,” “stop whining it’s not hard,” “maybe if you actually listen,” and the likes and Y/N had enough.

It was one whole day of horse-riding—apparently, it was a good exercise for the horses—and Y/N was officially done with the whole country thing.

She marched into the barn and collapsed on the chair, leaning her head on the table.

Within a few seconds, a livid Taehyung marched inside the room—his pretty brown eyes wide in anger.

Y/N raised her head up and sighed in irritation. “Leave me alone, Kim,”

“No!”

“The fuck do you want?”

“You fucking screwer up, Y/N—again. For the millionth time this week.” Taehyung seethed. “The horse was going too fucking fast—I told you not to go that fast, but did you listen? No,”

Y/N clenched her teeth as Taehyung continued his rant.

“I told you to pull the rope to slow the horse down. Did you listen? No,” Taehuyng continued. “You said you put the saddle on perfectly, but you didn’t—“

“Taehyung, for the love of god—Shut the fuck up.” Y/N groaned running a hand on her face.

“Time and time again, you screw up, Y/N. What if you fell, huh? Hit your head, get a concussion? What am I supposed to tell your grandparents, huh?”

“That I fell,” Y/N hissed, glaring at Taehyung. “That fucking simple,”

“No!” Taehyung said once again, raising his hands in anger. “Are you that stupid not to follow such simple instructions—“

Y/N scoffed standing up and turning around to leave.

Immediately, Taehyung was at her heel, still continuing his rant.

“If you just did it the way that I told you to, then—“

“I’m doing my fucking best, okay?” Y/N screamed, turning to face Taehyung in anger. “You know I know nothing, I’m doing whatever the fuck I can—you can’t blame me for failing when I’m doing the best that I fucking can,”

“Yeah, that the best you can do?” Taehyung scoffed, crossing his arms. “Then you’re pure absolute shit at this—why did you even volunteer to help?”

“Because my father told me to!” Y/N argued back. “I didn’t even want to, but even then I tried all that I can to help you—“

“Well, you were absolutely no help.”

“You think I don’t know?” Y/N screeched.

“Tone it down,” Taehyung hissed. “You need to learn how to shut you’re fucking mouth,”

Y/N raised her eyebrow in disbelief in irritation.

“Oh, do I, now?” Y/N scoffed, leaning forwards with an angry glare in her eyes. “Fucking make me, country boy,”

With a scoff, Taehyung leaned down and crashed his lips on Y/N’s.

His soft lips were enough to shut her up until the next decade—only if he kept kissing her until then.

Y/N gasped, eyes wide as Taehyung harshly gripped her waist and pulled away.

“Shut you up real nice, didn’t I?”

“Fuck you,” Y/N hissed, leaning back up to reconnect their lips—hands and fingers immediately darting up to wrap around his neck and play with his hair.

Taehyung growled as he roamed her body with his hands, pushing her towards the table.

As soon as her back hit the piece of furniture, Taehyung pushed her up to sit.

He disconnected his lips with hers and immediately moved to her neck.

Y/N moaned as Taehyung quickly located her pulse point and lightly sucked.

“You’re such an asshole,” Y/N said through her moans, tilting her head to provide him more access.

“Yeah, you’re making out with this asshole,” Taehyung growled out as he returned to kissing her lips, a faint purple mark blooming on her neck.

Y/N whimpered as Taehyung’s hands reached up and grasped one of her breasts, groaning lowly as he bit her lower lip.

“Tae, please,”

“Please, what?” Taehyung muttered against her lips.

“Touch me,” Y/N moaned out.

“Fuck,” He hissed, feeling Y/N’s hands travel up his shirt.

Y/N pulled away and reached for his leather belt, slightly panting before—

“Y/N!”

Immediately, the two sprung away from each other fixing their messy hair and clothes.

As Y/N fixed her hair, the barn door open to reveal her grandmother with a smile.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Y/N muttered to Taehyung, who only smirked at the girl as he wiped the corner of his lips.

Y/N cleared her throat, slowly releasing her breath.

Kim Taehyung made her want to bite off so much more than she could chew.

“Honey, you have visitors,” Y/N’s grandmother called as she got close enough.

“I do?” Y/N raised an eyebrow.

Her eyes panned over to the entrance of the barn where a tall boy with a delicate bunny smile poked his head through.

“Hello!” Jimin cheered as he appeared behind Jungkook.

“Guys!” Y/N gasped, peeling away from Taehyung. “Jungkook!”

Taehyung blinked in confusion as Y/N darted forward and met Jungkook in a fierce embrace, being lifted up in the air and twirled as Jimin laughed behind them.

“Holy fucking shit, I missed you!” Y/N said, cradling Jungkook’s face in her hands.

“I have so much I need to tell you about,” Jungkook gossiped as Jimin reached the pair.

“So does she,” Jimin chortled.

He grabbed a few strands of Y/N’s hair and set it aside, chuckling as a dark purple bruise revealed itself on her neck.

Immediately, Y/N slapped his hands away and backed up as Jungkook chuckled lightly.

“They’re going to be staying here until the summer festa,” Her grandmother shared, making Y/N gape.

“Wow,” Y/N gasped, leaning against Jungkook who wrapped his arm around Y/N. “a whole week with me?”

“Two weeks, actually—You and me,” Jungkook giggled, squeezing Y/N at his side.

“And me, you turds.” Jimin scoffed as Jungkook slammed his palm on Jimin’s face.

“Kook, fuck off,” Jimin scoffed before pulling Y/N’s hand. “Anyway, show us around!”

“Of course—“

Taehyung let out a small cough, making Y/N snap back into reality as she turned to Taehyung.

His eyes danced between her and Jungkook, with an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, uh, in a while, Jiminie,” Y/N said as Taehyung glowered at Jungkook.

Jungkook was either impassive or downright oblivious.

Judging by how he only grinned at Y/N as he rocked back and forth on his feet.

“I have to talk to Taehyung in a quick whi—“

“Actually, I think I have something to talk about with your grandmother.” Taehyung declared, voice low and firm. “Don’t want to take you away from something important,”

“Tae—“

“Mrs. L/N, I wanted to talk to you about horse-racing,”

Y/N’s brows furrowed as Taehyung swiftly turned on his heel and marched out the back-door of the barn to the stables.

Y/N’s grandmother raised her eyebrows in confusion, facing Y/N. “Honey?”

“Touchy,” Jimin whistled as Jungkook snorted. “What was that all about?”

“Ah, that’s um,” Y/N glanced back at the back-door Taehyung exited from, almost expecting him to burst back in.

But he didn’t.

“Nothing, guys,” Y/N cleared her throat. “Just him being an asshole,”

Y/N hasn’t seen Taehyung in over a week.

Yeah, Kim Taehyung was indeed a grade-a asshole for basically sucking her face in the barn and then leaving her for dead for about a week.

Well, it’s not exactly just his fault.

But Jungkook and Jimin were here—she’s gotta spend time with her visiting friends!

Right?

Jungkook and Jimin burst through her doorway, screaming at her.

“Are you ready yet?” Jungkook screamed at her ear, tugging at her white dress.

“Jungkook, scram,” Y/N said irritably as Jimin collapsed on her bed.

“Y/N, you’re taking too long. I want to party,” Jimin whined, which Jungkook promptly followed.

“Yeah, stop trying to look pretty. You still look ugly anyways.” Jungkook commented, which earned him a slap at the back of the head from Y/N.

“What he means is the guy you made out with probably won’t be there.” Jimin shrugged, giggling as Y/N promptly turned around to shoot him a nasty glare.

“Who?” Jungkook said, oblivious doe eyes wide in surprise.

“That cute Taeyong guy from the barn when we got here,” Jimin huffed. “Remember she had a hickey?”

“Oh, yeah!” Jungkook gasped.

“It was just in the moment,” Y/N said, pursing her lips as she turned back to her vanity to apply the last few strokes of mascara. “at least for him, I think.”

“You see how he glared at me?” Jungkook snorted as he sat next to Jimin. “That’s not in the heat of the moment. He was, like, about to throw me against the wall for even hugging you,”

“That’s hot,” Jimin hummed.

Jungkook furiously turned a bright shade of red as he floundered around.

Y/N rolled her eyes.

At least her two friends were having a good… relationship, fling, whatever it was.

She picked up her lip gloss—cherry bomb.

As she applied it to her own lips, her mind wandered.

She distinctly remembers the same shade being transferred from her lips to Taehyung’s that day in the barn.

She can almost see his smirk as he wiped it away from his face.

“Y/N, are you dooooone?”

She gulped, snapping back as she slipped the gloss into her bag.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on,”

It was a big celebration at the pub.

Of course it was—it was the summer festa.

It was a big celebration all over the town.

There were food booths and picnics at every open park, rodeos and races at the open house, and a big discount on alcohol at the big party held at the pub.

There, Y/N sat by the bar with a beer in hand as Jungkook and Jimin did a surprisingly good rendition of Hannah Montana’s hoedown throwdown at the stage.

“It’d be fucking stupid to pass out on not popping, locking and polka dotting when I’m in the fucking country, Y/N,” she remembers Jimin chastising before dragging a pliant Jungkook to the stage.

Tuning out Jungkook and Jimin aggressively screaming “do the hoe-down throwdown!” through the excessively loud speakers, Y/N turned to the bar and peeked at the group beside her.

“Oh, Hobi!”

Hoseok turned around with a smile, two tequila shots in his hands.

“Y/N, didn’t know you’d be here,”

“Where else would I be?” Y/N snorted, taking the tequila shot glass Hobi offered.

“With your family, or at the rodeo?” Hobi shrugged, clinking his own shot glass with Y/N before drinking.

Y/N hissed at the alcohol’s burn as another voice sounded out.

“Someone can handle her alcohol,” Jin said teasingly, ruffling Y/N’s hair as he and Namjoon arrived.

“I did this practically everyday in the city,” Y/N huffed, batting her hands as Namjoon snorted.

“I pity your liver,” Namjoon said sympathetically.

“Where’s Chaeri?” Y/N asked to which Jin only shrugged.

“She’s at home, helping her mom cook for the big celebration. She’ll meet us here in about an hour or so,” Jin replied.

Before he could continue, a familiar voice called his name.

Jin turned around, smiling as Yoongi came into view.

“Ah, Yoongi great timing,” Jin smiled, slinging an arm around the boy.

“Stop touching me,” Yoongi whined, although he made no move to push Jin away.

“This is Y/N, our friend when we were kids,” Hobi introduced, pointing to Y/N who waved.

Immediately, Yoongi’s face burned red. “Ah, yeah. We’ve met.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Oh, you remember?”

“I’m really sorry for last week,” Yoongi apologized, shyly giving Y/N his gummy smile. “I was in a, uh, really bad place,”

“That Ji-eun girl was a bitch for doing that to you, by the way,” Y/N snorted. “Did you talk to her the next morning?”

“Ah, no. I figured she didn’t deserve a chance to explain,” Yoongi shrugged as Namjoon gaped.

“What exactly happened?”

“Ah, he was, uh—pretty drunk,”

“An understatement. I sobbed on her and thought she was Ji-eun,” Yoongi winced, making the rest of their company laugh. “If it wasn’t for Taehyung, I probably would have sobbed on her all night.”

At the mention of the forbidden name, Y/N tensed.

Immediately, a feeling of sadness and longing passed through her—one whole week without something she got so used to.

“Oh, yeah, which reminds me,” Hobi piped up. “I would’ve thought you’d be with Taehyung now. You guys have been working together for the past weeks right?”

Yoongi nodded along, hands grabbing at the beer bottles appearing at the bar behind Y/N.

“He only ever talked about you, actually.” Jin snorted. “It got pretty annoying,”

Jungkook and Jimin suddenly appeared, presenting Y/N with a topic change.

She cleared her throat and smiled, gesturing at the two.

“These are my friends from the city, by the way. Jungkook and Jimin, these are Jin, Hobi, Yoongi and Namjoon.”

After a brief introduction, the group immediately dabbled into different topics before settling on the festa itself.

“So, what other things happens during the summer festa aside from parties where everyone gets wasted?” Jimin asked, supporting on a red-faced Jungkook who was coerced by Jin to take three consecutive shots.

“Well,” Hobi trailed off, trying to recall the events.

“There’s a horse racing track in two hours, Yoongi’s going to join,” Namjoon recalled.

“Oh, you’ve been drinking, though?” Jungkook slurred, pointing at Yoongi.

“Will you be okay?”

Yoongi only snorted, waving nonchalantly.

“That means he’ll be okay.” Jin translated, to which Yoongi replied with a two thumbs-ups.

“Oh, and bull-riding on old Hellraiser happening in like 30-minutes at the rodeo house.” Hobi supplied, turning to Y/N. “Did you wish Tae a good luck today?”

Y/N tilted her head, mind practically floating at the mention of talking to Taehyung again.

“Ah, I haven’t exactly had the time to talk to him recently,” Y/N shook her head.

“Well, you should,” Yoongi snorted, taking another swig from the bottle in his hands. “He’ll need all the luck he can get.”

“Why?”

Namjoon, Jin, Hobi and Yoongi exchanged confused looks before Hobi furrowed his eyebrows at Y/N.

“You don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

“Hellraiser is the bull. It’s an annual festa thing for men brave enough to try riding her,” Namjoon said.

“Then it’s probably fun,” Jimin supplied to which Jin shook his head.

“Not really. Hellraiser is named that because she’s too tough to ride. She’s sent a lot of riders to the hospital, that bull,” Yoongi shook his head.

“The longest anyone ever rode her was…” Hobi trailed off, looking at Namjoon.

“3.8 seconds.” Namjoon supplied. “That was Mr. Han—three years ago. He was sent to the hospital, he couldn’t move until about six weeks in. Took a week knocked out and multiple critical injuries—it was painful to watch,”

“Scary,” Jungkook commented.

Y/N shushed the tipsy boy before furrowing her eyebrows, heart racing a mile a minute.

“So, Hellraiser is a murder bull in-the-making,” Y/N said. “What’s that got to do with Taehyung?”

Everyone was silent before Yoongi raised his hand.

“No, yeah, I’ll tell her.” Yoongi shook his head, muttering about ‘cowards.’ “Taehyung’s having a go at Hellraiser in about thirty minutes.”

At this, Y/N froze.

This bull—Hellraiser—sent a grown-ass man to the hospital in a one-week coma and multiple critical injuries that took five more weeks for him to be able to move again.

This bull was going to hold Taehyung’s fate in half an hour.

She wasn’t exactly sure if she was ready to see Taehyung in the hospital. She can’t.

They said they we going to talk about what happened at the barn. She had to ask him why he didn’t even talk to her this week or why he left her that day, or—

“Y/N,” Hobi sighed.

Y/N flinched in her chair, gulping as she turned to Hobi who sighed as he held her shoulders.

“I can see you’re nervous about this. Go to him before he goes on,” Hobi reassured.

“I have to go,” Y/N agreed with a nod, her eyes quickly sweeping over her peers.

She shot out of her seat, barely registering Jungkook and Jimin bid swift farewells to their table-mates before following her trail.

She didn’t care—her gaze was directly set on one location and one location only: The Rodeo House.

Suddenly, the subtle red poster on the doors with the big black bull and the words “Hellraiser” on the front wasn’t so subtle anymore.

Y/N burst through the doors in anger, taking a sharp corner into the door labelled Challenger’s Lounge.

The inside was wide.

All around her were white walls, buffet tables, large televisions showing the arena outside and people wandering about as they waiting for their own respective challenges with their friends and family.

But none of this mattered to Y/N—No.

All she could see was the tall raven-haired male all decked out in denim by the television, crossing his arms and tapping his foot as he looked up at the live broadcast from outside.

This was a sight she could remember perfectly—it was what he wore when she first met him outside the pub.

Exactly in the same position.

She noticed his unruly hair that normally would’ve inserted some pretty sinful thoughts in her brain, and how we bit his lips and nipped at his nails in nervousness—a habit he usually did when Y/N went too fast while horse-riding, or how he raised his eyebrow slightly at every interesting thing he could see in the television.

Normally, Y/N would stop and Kim Taehyung in all his glory and she almost did—but her anger won in the end.

“Kim Taehyung!”

The said boy flinched, turning around with his mouth wide-open in surprise as he saw her.

Y/N looked so out of place around the plaids, leather and denim people sported all around her—she was decked in a flowy white dress and her hair was pinned back.

She looked so innocent, so delicate and gentle, but the anger in her face told Taehyung otherwise.

“What the actual fuck?”

“What?” Taehyung asked, ignoring the curious gazes casted on them

He grew even more confused as the girl marched towards her.

“A murderous bull? You’re going to ride a murderous bull?” Y/N seethed. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Technically, Hellraiser hasn’t murdered anyone yet,” Taehyung supplied. “Just critically injured. You know, maiming.”

“Is that supposed to be better?” Y/N hissed.

Taehyung shrugged, crossing his arms with a frown.

“Well, no, but I gotta.” Taehyung supplied.

“Why?”

“I just gotta,” Taehyung said, crossing his arms again. “If I could actually get to ride that bull for more than 3.8 seconds, It’d be really big for me,”

“How—“ Y/N started, but shook her head in exasperation. “You know what?”

“What?”

“If you do this, I’ll never speak to you again,” Y/N said, her voice firm. “Taehyung, please. Don’t get on that bull.”

Taehyung uncroseed his arms, his eyes turning soft.

“Y/N—“ He gently whispered, reaching out to her.

His eyes flitted over to the door as it opened once more to reveal Jungkook.

“Oh, Y/N! I finally found you,” Jungkook said, walking forward. “Been looking all over for you. Jimin, she’s here!”

Taehyung’s gaze immediately hardened, confusing Y/N.

He cleared his throat before stuffing his hands inside his pockets.

He turned and trailed his gaze back to the televisions, his voice low as he spoke.

“I’ve lived 24 years without you, I think I’ll be fine.”

Hurt danced in Y/N’s eyes as she slowly backed away.

“I’ll never speak to you again,” she nodded solemnly.

Taehyung could only look at her as she took Jungkook and Jimin with her and walked out of the lounge.

“Taehyung, it’s time,”

He had more things to worry about.

It was a few hours later when Y/N sat alone on a log in front of a campfire.

Jimin and Jungkook were long gone, talking about the time and how it’s late.

But she didn’t want to go home—not yet.

So here she was, a few feet from her barn alone and staring at a campfire without her friends.

A few footsteps told her there was someone coming.

She couldn’t really find it in her to care.

The figure took a seat beside her and cleared his throat.

“Hey,”

It was Taehyung.

Silly, denim-wearing, tall as fuck, messy-haired Kim Taehyung.

“I, uh, stayed on the bull for 5 seconds,” Taehyung shared, biting his lip as he also stared into the fire. “I fell, but nothing bad happened. A little sore,”

Y/N only hummed, still gazing into the hot flame.

After a few minutes of silence, Taehyung huffed and stood up.

“Alright, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N replied blankly, her eyes still trained on the fire.

-“I don’t understand,” Taehyung angrily said, his eyes glaring onto Y/N from his position. “Why are you ignoring me?”

Y/N only stayed silent.

“Why didn’t you want me to ride that bull?”

Y/N clenched her teeth, her eyes firm on its spot as she gazed at the burning fire.

“Why—“

“Because I like you!” Y/N exploded, her eyes wide in anger as she turned to Taehyung. “Because I don’t want to see you get hurt,”

“Why?”

“Should there be any reason why?” Y/N replied as Taehyung gaped at her, silent in her spot.

Y/N squirmed in her chair, sighing in exasperation as she shook her head.

“Let’s just watch this fire.”

There was a few minutes of silence between the two.

Taehyung turned his head to look at Y/N, who looked back at him. “Stop,”

He sighed and gazed back at the fire, slowly turning his head to stare back at her.

“I said stop.” Y/N hissed. “Just stop, I want you to stop,”

Taehyung sighed angrily and stomped off, leaving Y/N in her lonesome.

It was expected. She expected that.

She wanted to sit there and think, but she never got the chance to.

Just as quick as he left, Taehyung marched back to the campfire—his sleeves rolled up and arms bulging in strain as he carried two buckets full of water in his arms.

Y/N turned to him, her eyes wide in alarm as he approached.

“Taehyung, what are you—“

Not replying, Taehyung stopped next to her and dumped both buckets of water on the campfire.

Y/N could only look at him in shock as he panted in frustration, turning back at the girl.

“Will you talk to me now?”

“What the fuck do you want from me, Taehyung?” Y/N screeched, slamming a hand on his chest.

“I want you to talk to me.”

“You want me to talk to you? Fine. Let’s talk.” Y/N hissed, slamming a hand once more on his chest. “Why did you leave me that day, huh? Why did you leave me for a fucking week blank?”

“You tell me,” Taehyung glared back at Y/N, who only smiled angrily.

“No, I’m asking the questions. You wanted to talk—now, give me an answer.” Y/N sighed, sitting back on the log. “You’re a good guy, Tae. I believe you’re a good guy. I believe you won’t just turn back and leave me for dead,”

“Why?”

“Because if you weren’t you wouldn’t be here trying to ask me to talk to you.”

Taehyung sighed, sitting down next to her.

Silently, Y/N shook her head. “I like you. You’re a good guy, you’re a good friend.”

Just when it was all good, it spiraled back into a huge ball of disaster.

“Just a friend?” Taehyung scoffed. “Right. I should have known.”

He stood up with angrily, muttering the same sentence all over again. “I should have known,”

“See, this is what’s wrong with you!” Y/N angrily said, standing back up as she screamed at Taehyung’s back. “You’re making me so confused! Just a friend—this is bullshit.”

“You’re the one who said it,” Taehyung argued, but his words fell on deaf ears.

“Why did you kiss me that day, huh? What, you just wanted a good fuck that day? Were you angry you never got to do it, huh?” Y/N hissed.

Taehung raised his eyebrows, scoffing in disbelief.

“You’re one to talk. Who’s been dangling her city friend all around the fucking town, huh?” Taehyung replied.

“Dangling?” Y/N angrily laughed. “You’re the one who hasn’t talked to me in a week, you fucking asshole. You don’t get the right to talk about my friend like that.”

“Wow, you’re really up his ass, huh.” Taehyung shook his head. “Is his dick really that good, huh?”

At this, Y/N stopped.

His what now?

Taehyung might have been clever and charming—but his ass was definitely oblivious.

If he just thought for a second, he’d realize that Jungkook was as straight as a bendy straw.

Still, she couldn’t stop the word that spilled out her mouth.

“Fuck yeah. Fucking Jungkook is so fucking good, I couldn’t fucking walk for a week straight,” Y/N hissed, enjoying the way Taehyung’s expression progressively got angrier and angrier. “Fucking him would probably be a million fucking times better than your sorry ass.”

“Yeah?” Taehyung angrily growled.

“Yeah,” Y/N replied.

“We’ll see about that,” Taehyung gruffed, stepping forward and crashing his lips on hers.

Y/N’s response was immediate.

Her lips meshed with his so perfectly as she melted against his body, her arms wrapped around his neck.

Taehyung pressed closer deepening the kiss before Y/N pulled away.

“You know what? Fuck you, Taehyung,” She hissed before falling down on her knees.

“Oh, I will,” Taehyung smirked as watched Y/N reach for his leather belt.

As the girl cussed at him, she pulled the belt away and agressively pulled his pants down.

He was well-endowed. He wasn’t too thick, just the right size for Y/N’s hand, but he was long.

He wasn’t hard yet, but he was getting there.

Y/N almost hesitated and wondered if he would fit in her mouth as she placed a tentative lick on the tip.

Taehyung drew in a breath, his hands reaching to tangle in her hair.

Fuck it, Y/N thought before enclosing the tip with her mouth and sucking.

“Just like a fucking lollipop,” Taehyung guided as Y/N made her way down on him.

He was too long. What she couldn’t reach, she used her mouth.

“Fuck,” Taehyung hissed, groaning as he threw his head back.

Y/N pulled away and licked the underside of his shaft, sighing as she regained her breath.

Taehyung shuddered as Y/N’s thumb brushed over his bulbous head.

“You’re so fucking big,” Y/N moaned as she pumped him.

Taehyung could only look down at her with a smirk.

“Bigger than Jungkook?” Taehyung asked with a smirk making the girl roll her eyes.

Trying not to feed into his ego, Y/N descended back on him—going as deep as she can go.

Her hand reached up to fondle his balls, grunting in effort as she shifted back and forth on him.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking good at this,” Taehung groaned, his hands tightening in her hair.

He gave tiny thrusts that only increased his pleasure ten-fold.

“Feels so fucking good,” Taehyung hissed out, throwing his head back. “I can’t wait to feel you, shit. I’m going to fuck you so hard,”

Taehyung could swear, as he looked back down to the girl on her knees with him in her mouth, that this was probably the most beautiful sight he’d ever see.

Y/N whined in her spot, feeling her panties grow damp at Taehyung’s words.

She reached down and lightly rubbed at her crotch—aiming for a small sense of relief.

“Holy shit,” Taehyung hissed, looking down and catching Y/N palming herself.

Y/N moaned lightly, and Taehyung can feel it as Y/N shoved him deeper down her throat.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!” Taehyung groaned out. “I’m almost there, I’m cumming.”

At his words, Y/N swallowed around his dick.

This was his last straw. Taehyung threw his head back as he released his load on her.

Y/N opened her mouth, letting him fill her mouth with his essence.

When Taehyung climbed down from his high, he looked down to see Y/N pull herself away from him and swallowing.

Somehow, this got him going more than the actual blowjob.

“Taehyung,” Y/N started, staring up at him from her position.

She was a mess—his mess, he thought.

She was still on her knees, her hand still holding him as she looked up at him with the biggest puppy eyes. Her lip gloss smudged around her mouth and her hair was totally mussed around.

“Taehyung,” she repeated. “I-I need you.”

His eyes shifted towards her family’s barn a few feet away, smirking.

Seems like he’ll get to fuck her there after all.

The moment they entered the barn, Taehyung shoved Y/N against the closed door and immediately went for her neck.

Y/N could only groan loudly as his hand shot up to fondle her breasts over her dress.

“Taehyung,” Y/N groaned, making Taehyung close his eyes with a groan.

Right there and then, he could die happily hearing her gentle voice say his name in the dirtiest manner.

Taehyung pulled away after he satisfied himself with a couple marks on her neck, moving to nip at her jaw and place another rough kiss on her lips.

“All mine, all mine,”

Y/N only whimpered, her head hitting the wooden door as she tilted it back.

Taehyung’s fingers made quick work of the zipper behind her dress, harshly pulling it off of her and somewhere on the barn.

As soon as Y/N heard the soft thud of her dress, she straightened her head up and furrowed her eyebrows.

“Tae, that’s Gucci—“

“Shut the fuck up,” Taehyung growled, pulling down the cups of her bra and attaching his lips onto her right nipple.

“Oh my god,” Y/N can only moan, closing her eyes as she heaved.

With a nibble, Taehyung pulled away. “All of this is fucking mine, make sure your city friends know that.”

“They will, they do,” Y/N breathed out in a whine as Taehyung returned to fondling and sucking on her breasts.

Y/N gasped as she felt him hard on her again, hips pressing roughly on hers.

“Take it off,” Y/N breathed, her hands underneath his denim jacket and tugging on his white shirt.

Taehyung made quick movements.

He barely registered his jacket and his shirt hitting the ground behind him as he felt Y/N’s hand fondle him.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, making the girl whine.

“Tae, please,”

Taehyung hissed, dragging her body away from the floor and harshly bending her over the fence of an empty stable.

His hand landed a sharp smack on her ass, making her grip the metal railings she leaned on.

“Taehyung, please,” Y/N whined, her head lolling forward.

“You’re so wet,” Taehyung said, rubbing his finger over the damp patch on her panties. “Who did this?”

“You did,”

“I didn’t hear it,” Taehyung quipped, landing another harsh smack on her ass. “Who did?”

“You did,” Y/N moaned louder, whining as Taehyung delivered another sharp smack. “You did, you did,”

Satisfied, Taehyung smirked and gripped her thin panties—ripping the delicate lace apart.

Y/N was so lost in a haze of lust that she didn’t even notice.

After a brief moment of anticipation, Taehyung placed his thumb of her hooded clit.

He took pleasure in the way Y/N inhaled a sharp breath, lowering her head down and releasing a high-pitched whine.

He played with her, rubbing her clit at a torturously slow pace and fingers itching closer to her slit but never dipping in.

“Taehyung, touch me please,” Y/N whimpered.

“What do you want?” Taehyung asked, eyes light with mischief.

“Stick your fingers in me,” Y/N whined.

“Whatever you want, princess,”

With two fingers, Taehyung eased his fingers inside her warmth.

He didn��t start slow, no. He set a fast, rhythmic pace that had Y/N quaking.

He let his thumb continue its assault on her clit, his other hand securely gripping her waist.

Y/N shuddered on her spot, eyes closed as she thrusted her hips on his hands.

At that moment, he could swear that she looked like a goddess.

As Y/N clenched on him, he abruptly pulled away.

Y/N let out a high-pitched whine turning her head to see a smirking Taehyung.

“What the fuck?”

“I said I was going to fuck you real good, Y/N,” Taehyung said, turning her around. “I intend to stick to it.”

Y/N shuddered once more, readjusting her grip on the fence as Taehyung massaged her waist.

“I’d love to taste you, but next time,” Taehyung sighed, positioning himself in her entrance before stopping. “I, uh, just realized I don’t have a condom,”

“Taehyung, I’m on the pill,”

“Good,” Taehyung sighed in relief. “I don’t think I can wait any longer,”

Before Y/N could let out a retort, Taehyung thrusted in.

Y/N released out a loud moan, her head falling down limply as Taehyung thrusted in and out on a rough pace.

“Holy shit, you feel so amazing,” Taehyung muttered as he smoothed his hands on her back. “You feel so perfect,”

“Tae, Tae,” Y/N only whimpered as Taehyung thrusted harder.

Y/n’s body shook everytime their hips met, her moans getting louder and louder.

“Scream for me,” Taehyung huffed, “Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good,”

“Tae, please, harder!” Y/N almost cried.

Y/N whimpered, her hands reaching back to lay on Taehyung. “Please, please. I’m gonna cum.”

At her words, Taehyung slipped out of her and picked her up.

“Taehyung, wha—“

He set her down on her back, gazing at her as she lied on the table.

“Tae?”

He pulled her closer, prying her legs open as he hissed.

“You’re so fucking hot,” He muttered before plunging back in on a different angle.

Y/N could almost scream, throwing her head back in pleasure.

Taehyung’s tanned skin was covered in sweat by this point as he grunted and panted with every thrust.

The barn was filled with nothing but moans groans, and the sound of their hips slapping against each other at every single thrust.

After one particularly hard thrust, Taehyung fixed his grip on Y/N’s leg—hitting a particularly deep angle.

His hand reached down to press over Y/N’s lower stomach, smirking as a bulge appeared at every thrust.

Y/N whined, a whole new plethora of pleasure clouding her brain.

“I-I’’m—“

“Are you going to cum?” Taehyung asked mischievously as he thrusted harder and faster.

“Yes, yes. God, yes.”

“Hold it,”

Taehyung groaned in effort, each rough thrust losing rhythm.

“Please, please, please,” Y/N whimpered, her hand reaching down to grasp over Taehyung’s please.

“With me,” Taehyung said through gritted teeth. “Now,”

As soon as she felt Taehyung explode inside of her, Y/N allowed herself to indulge in pure euphoria—his name falling off of her lips in a loud prayer-like chant.

All she could see was white. All she could feel was his shallow thrusts inside of her as he filled her up.

Taehyung kept thrusting as both of them, letting out silent moans and groans as he rode down their highs.

Y/N breathed out, completely spent as she climbed down from her orgasm, turning slightly to Taehyung with a smile.

“Hi,” she muttered, to which the boy only replied with a grin.

“Hi,” Taehyung replied, still hovering above her and tucked a lock of hair beneath her ear.

He leaned his forehead on hers as she giggled, raking a hand through his hair.

“What… exactly is this, Taehyung?” Y/N asked.

Taehyung hummed.

“Is this just for like one night? A spur of the moment thing or—“

Taehyung smiled.

“If it isn’t obvious yet, I really like you too,” Taehyung said. “Fuck you were so cute that day, when I saw you when Yoongi was crying on you,”

Y/N chuckled as Taehyung laid his head on her chest. “And those weeks at the barn, I was really nervous to spend so much time with you,”

“Is that why you were so mean to me?”

“Aren’t city boys mean to the girls they like?” Taehyung asked, hands roaming her sides in a loving caress. “I thought I was too late because of Jungkook,”

“You-You do know Jungkook doesn’t like me, right?” Y/N giggled as Taehyung buried his head in her neck again, laying little nibbles here and there. “He likes Jimin,”

Taehyung froze and raised his head.

“Wait, what?”

Y/N laughed at his stupefied gaze, throwing her head back in amusement.

“But… all those things you said about fucking him was—“

“Not true,” Y/N shook her head. “He’s gay, Taehyung. He’s always liked Jimin. I think Jimin likes him, too.”

Taehyung frowned, his hands caressing Y/N’s waist.

“So, you don’t like him?”

“Of course, not. Not like that,” Y/N shook her head, reaching up and laughing. “The way you got so riled up when I told you I fucked him, though. You were so—“

Taehyung leaned forward, crashing his lips on hers once more.

Y/N inhaled sharply, her hand climbing up to lightly rake on his back as she arched hers.

She could feel him harden against her hips once more.

“You need to learn how to shut your fucking mouth, baby.” Taehung mumbled lowly against her lips.

Y/N smirked, tilted her head as she felt Taehyung adjust himself to her entrance once more.

“Make me, country boy,”

118 notes · View notes

toytalesindia-blog · 4 years

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8 Baby Essentials for a 7 Months Old Baby

My boy just turned 7 months old this April 2020 and I have seen sudden changes in his behaviour. For example, he smiles back when you smile at him. He has started lunging forward towards his mom, me and my mother. His sleep patterns have changed, grasping power has increased and my baby suddenly prefers my wife over me these days. He has started crying when he is separated from his mom. There are a few essentials for the baby this age.

1. Solid Food Diet Plan

Babies generally start solid food at around six months. We feed our son three solid meals a day. It is generally a mixture of fruits like papaya, banana and pumpkin. We have also started giving Ghiya ( Bottle gourd in english) and the baby seems to like it. My wife has also prepared a baby cerelac mixture by mixing some rice, almonds, cereals at home. The mixture is then roasted and grinded finely. I recommend that you do some research on which baby food to give before deciding on a diet plan. This very popular recipe site is a good starting point. Apart from the recipes there are many other items that you would need to be ready for when the baby starts to eat solid foods. Here's a list: A Baby High Chair: A high chair will help you feed your baby properly and without hassles. We have a Chicco High chair and it is fantastic. We have written a detailed post about it and given the best recommendations here: Top 5 Baby High Chairs in IndiaA Blender to mash foods like bananas and papayas. Baby Spoon Usually the grandparents gift a silver spoon and a Katori to the baby but I have found that the silver spoon is really isn't very suitable for feeding because the baby leaps forward and latches on to the spoon and the hard spoon may hurt the baby sometimes so it's better to get a silicone spoon. Dish Set: Prefer a steel set to a plastic one. Steel doesn't impart flavour to the food and is safe. Bib: Get some nice bibs for your baby so that you don't have to change his clothes every time you feed him. There will be a lot of spillages and you would want a cute bib so you can click some cute pics after the meal. A sipper: Though you wouldn't require it exactly at 6 months eventually you will require it.

2. Baby Sleeping Kit

Baby sleep patterns will change once the baby turns six months old. I understand that this is different for every kid but I am talking about the general trend. Baby will sleep more at night and the first six months of erratic sleep patterns will get better. You would want to ensure that your baby gets enough rest. You will want a list of items such as a mosquito net, good quality baby beds etc. I have written a detailed post on baby kit for a good night sleep. In a nutshell you will require: Baby BedsBaby PillowsBlanketsDry SheetsA cribMosquito netsStory BooksBaby MusicToys

3. Child Safety

As your kid completes his sixth month you will start seeing changes in his behaviour. You will need to start preparing for times when he will be crawling and walking because only when you start now you will be ready for when you really need it. Baby proofing your house should be your number one priority Starting at 6 months will allow you enough time to be ready when the baby walks. The perfect baby proofing list tells you exactly how to baby proof your house. In a nutshell you should look at these babyproofing items: Baby GatesElectrical outlet coversBed RailsCorner safety guardsDrawer LocksDoor LocksCord Shorteners Furniture anchors

4. The Outdoors Kit

I am writing this post on the 9th April 2020, when we are already 2 weeks into the covid 19 lockdown and there is nothing more I want than to take my kid out. In the winters he was too small to go out and in the summers we haven't been able to take him out due to the pandemic. Anyway, you would invariably go for walks with your baby in your society, malls or in the parks. Here are a few things that you would require: Strollers: At the onset let me tell you that most stroller companies in India get their strollers manufactured in China. I am at a loss of alternatives to this situation. I have written two posts detailing the best value for money strollers in the Indian market at the moment. Luvlap strollers & R For Rabbit strollers. Both companies are Indian but they get their strollers manufactured in China. Read the above-linked posts to know the advantages that a stroller brings. Baby High Chair: So you can enjoy little picnics with your baby. Make sure your high chair is portable and easy to carry.Snack Cup: Babies this age can eat/drink fruits through these cups. Put in some watermelons and let the baby suck on the cup while outdoors. Keeps the baby hydrated and full. Diapers: Obvious. You don't want to be changing the baby's pyjamas when outside. We use supples baby diapers and quite like it. There is this diaper that promises 98% water-based. I will try it once I finish this lot of diapers. ( Although we have stopped using diapers at night now because the baby has better bladder control now and does not pee as often. If he has to peer, he'd wake up and cry. He will then pee and go back to sleep. Hat, Sunglasses and sunscreen if you plan to take the baby outside during the day.

5. Toys

Between 6 to 12 months kids are super active and lay their hands on practically anything that they can. It is important to buy age-appropriate toys for kids at all times. All toys come with a minimum age recommendation from the manufacturer. Teething toys are a superhit and more of a necessity than a toy. Kids are getting new teeth and they absolutely love to chew anything including toys, shoulders, hands etc. Get them a testing toy. Stacking and nesting toysShaking toys such as rattlesPushing toysSorting toysMake sure these toys are safe to chew on. Again Try and avoid Chinese toys.

6. Books

Storybooks are a great way for you to bond with your child. Bright coloured illustrations attract child and you can read these stories loudly and with a lot of dramatic expressions to your baby. Remember loud and more dramatic is better. Baby will laugh and enjoy. I recommend the following baby books for this age Soft Crinkle BooksMy First LibraryCaterpillar

7. Audio Books

101 Panchtantra Stories Amazon Audible is an audiobook service from Amazon that offers free audiobooks for the first month and then one audiobook each month. You can try their free trial and see if it is of interest to you. Audiobooks are a good way to relax and something to put on while working with the baby. Try it, It's fun (and free) Get a free audible account here

8. Youtube Videos & Youtube Kids

Ok, first of all this is not what it seems like it is. Your baby will love your mobile/tablet screen and will smile as soon as you put on a video but avoid the temptation. We are in a similar situation now and our baby will smile at the mobile scree like it is his best friend. He forgets that his mom or dad are holding him. He just wants to see the mobile. Thankfully he does not cry when we take away the mobile. Ok, We do not let our baby watch the mobile but I do like a couple of songs that I sometimes let him watch. These songs are: Hathi Raja Kahan Chale and Snowflakes. The most use for you tube is when the baby wants to sleep. I have noticed that the baby recognizes music and responds well to it. My Son's favourite song for sleeping is Tim Tim Karte Tare. Even if my son is fussy he will sleep 8 times out of 10 whenever we play this song.

Conclusion

I have compiled this list of baby essentials at seven months from my experience as a father of a seven month old baby boy. I hope you liked this post and I invite you to comment below and tell me your stories. To know more about me see our About us page. To get in touch send us an email here. If you liked this blog post and would like to get updates on baby development adn receive exciting brand offers, Subscribe to our newsletter. Finally, Share our content with your friends and support me in reaching more people. Read the full article

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deanandcastrash · 7 years

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Being a writer, forcing ideas into the world came naturally, and it was a bad habit that Castiel had to learn how to break.  

When he was younger-a young writer-Castiel used to think something so far out there was great, and he would force it into words, onto a page that it didn’t fit.  Those ideas would turn into these rabid monsters, clawing at the page, chewing up each letter of each word between their sharp teeth.  He knew he had to learn to let it come naturally, but he didn’t know exactly what that consisted of. He didn’t know how to do that.  

One morning, after many countless nights sitting behind a blinking cruiser, Castiel got up out of bed, turned on his computer, and wrote the first thing that came to his mind and everything that came to his mind until he had a string of words lines long in front of that blinking cruiser.  He wrote mostly of his life, things that meant a lot to him. It was the most fun to write about.  It surprised him so much-that he had written so much-that he knew that this is what he must do. This was the only natural thing he knew to write.  

So every morning for quite a few years, Castiel would get up and sit behind the computer. Sometimes for hours, sometimes for just a few minuets, and he would write about everything that came to his mind (or mostly everything).

Once he got better at writing; once he felt more confident, he would stare at a word on the page and weigh it down with his arms, his arms that carried his life- his memories. He picked the words that could support the weight. He picked the words that could handle the pressure. Soon though, Castiel began losing the details of his childhood. He couldn’t remember his beloved cats name he had through middle school. So, one morning, sitting behind his computer screen, behind that blinking cruiser, Castiel took a trip to his grandparents house back in Kansas. He walked up to the front lawn. He felt the grass in his fingers. He walked inside, and he didn’t look at the neighbors house next door. Each morning, Castiel explored each room. He looked desperately for some old toys he might have left behind, or some forgotten memories. Each morning, Castiel took a trip to the place he used to call home. It had been months, and Castiel had only found a few things that he hadn’t expected; only small surprises had occurred recently. Nothing big enough to satisfy his writer needs. It had been several months more before Castiel gave in. He wasn’t going to find any bigger surprise than the thing he was sure he was hiding.

One morning, when Castiel woke up, his black hair littered with gray, his eyes once a bright blue and full with life, now dull and dark, he sat behind his computer for the first time in years. He stared at the blinking cruiser before him.

Castiel had stopped writing. He had stopped trying to remember specific details because there was this one huge detail that was always getting in the way. But this morning, for some reason, was different.

Castiel closed his eyes, and he typed.

Cas took a trip to his grandparents house, but once he got there, he knocked on the neighbors door.

Dean Winchester was just about the worst behaved seventeen year olds to live in Lawrence Kansas, and Lawerence was a big city.

He walked big and acted bigger. He did the normal rebellious teenage number, you know, stealing things from the gas station and keying peoples cars. Getting and giving illegal tattoos. Most people saw him for just that, a teenage guy who smokes, skips school, and gives no shits, but when Castiel met him back when he was only a twelve year old shy-guy, he saw him for who he really was. Dean loved his brother more than he loved himself, and he would do anything for him, and even though Castiel was three-and-a-half months older than Dean, he looked up to him because of it.

Castiel knew who he really was, and even as they began to drift apart and Dean started wearing too much flannel and listening to so much rock and put on this persona that was oh-so familiar to his dad, Castiel still remembered who he was. Castiel was still his best friend, even though he wrote as many words as Dean listened to in his music, and owned as many scratchy green and purple sweaters as Dean had green and purple flannel.

Castiel was actually wearing his greenest sweater when he knocked on Deans door after school one day, and he grinned when he saw him. “Hey, Cas. Been a while.” “Well, if you went to school it wouldn’t seem so long.” “Yeah, well, that school thing really isn’t my thing.” “Too bad.” Dean nodded and grinned at his sweater again. “Let’s go somewhere, yeah?” “Sure.” Castiel shrugged and watched as Dean yelled inside to tell his brother he would ‘be out with Cas for a while’.

Cas followed Dean to his car and he started it up and drove out of the driveway.

Things were a lot different from what they were when they were twelve.

They were seventeen now, both could drive, but Dean had the car. Really it was his dad’s, but Dean was the one taking care of it and driving it around. That was different. And Dean had tattoos now.

‘non timebo mala’ was tattooed on his wrist, Latin for ‘i will fear no evil.’ Above that was a tat of a roaring tiger, broken up into geometric shapes. Red roses with green spiky stems filled the spaces between that and another tattoo, which were the numbers 1967, for his car. Above that was the last tattoo on his right-arm sleeve-the zepplin zoso symbol with all of the other album symbols mixed in with it. Dean had one more tattoo. It was on his right-side collar bone, and it said ‘so it goes.’

Castiel didn’t have any tattoos. Not much about Castiel had changed since they were twelve. It was really just his relationship with Dean that had changed.

They went from classmates working on projects in school together and sitting alone at lunch to casual friends who just drove around town in silence when they were bored just to have each other’s company.

They used to talk about girls and how awful the math teacher was. Cas missed that, they missed the fact that they used to talk at all. Castiel’s senior year of highschool was almost halfway over and he was afraid that after he graduated they wouldn’t even hang out anymore, so Cas had been coming over to Dean’s more and more often to hang after school.

He desperatley wanted to relearn how to communicate with Dean. It wasn’t so long ago that Cas could look at Dean and know what he was thinking.

What happened?

“Where are we going?” They had been driving for hardly five minuets, but Cas didn’t know why they had gone this direction, downtown was the other way, and they always drove downtown.

“Someplace different.” Dean turned onto a smaller road and from there turned into a parking lot, and you wouldn’t believe what of.

It was a park.

A small play area for kids off to the side, but everywhere else was anchors and anchors of land with walking paths and park benches and flowers and trees.

Dean parked the car and took out the keys. “Someplace we can talk, ‘cause we haven’t done that in a while.”

Cas didn’t know what to say, but it didn’t matter because Dean was already getting out of the car.

Cas followed him down a path and they began walking together, their steps in sync.

A tattooed, high school drop out, flannel wearing boy and a straight A, scratchy sweater wearing boy. Walking together. In a park. On a warm thursday afternoon.

“So, you done any writing latley? Anything you’re working on?”

Castiel widened his eyes in surprise. Dean remembered that he writes? “Uh, yeah, actually, I’m working on my first novel right now.”

Dean looked over at Cas. “Oh yeah? Mind telling me what it’s about?”

“It’s about this guy who’s in a coma and he realizes it when his girlfriend isn’t acting right. She’s giving him signs and clues as to how to wake up and he has to pay attention to catch them to wake up before it’s too late.”

Dean’s eyebrows raised and he nodded in approvement. “It’s so cool how you still write, Cas. I mean you were so good at it years ago, you must be brilliant at it now.”

Cas blushed, ‘Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“Come on, it has to be true. You need to show me some of your new stuff sometime. I only like to read if you’re the writer.”

“Okay, sure. We should sometime.”

They made it to a picnic table in a nice shaded area under some trees.

Dean took off his flannel leaving his black short sleeve shirt, and put it on the tabletop before he sat down and propped his feet on the seats below. Castiel faced him on the table, sitting criss-cross.

Cas stared at Dean’s arms propped up by his sides holding him up, stared at his tattoos.

“Dean, your Latin tattoo, the one that says ‘I will fear no evil,’ why did you get it? What does it mean to you?”

Dean held up his arm and examined his tattoo.

“Evil is just anything bad or scary to a person. Like this tiger,” Dean pointed at his own skin. “But if you look at evil with a different perspective, you shouldn’t be fearful of it anymore. This tiger is broken up into 5 different pieces, each representing a different persepctive, or point, or reason I have for not being scared of bad things.”

Castiel was in complete shock at the Winchester’s words. He never expected his tattoos to have so much meaning.

“So basically one is bad things help us appreciate good things, another is if you’re going through something bad, it can only get better.” Dean was going through them all, pointing at each piece of the tiger. “You should appreciate what you have before it becomes what you had, once bad things pass you’re left smarter and stronger, and this last one is basically you have family and friends who love you and are there for you if you need them.”

Dean was pointing at the biggest piece of the tiger.

“Wow, Dean, that is such a better explanation than what I was guessing!” Castiel chuckled and so did Dean.

“You wanna know what the roses are for?” Dean asked, and Cas scooted closer towards Dean and nodded.

“Yes, I very much do.”

“Each rose represents a person I can always count on.”

Cas counted the roses on Dean’s arm. there were four.

“Guess who they are.” Dean stared into Castiel’s eyes and Cas looked down at Dean’s arm and studied the roses.

Cas touched the first rose on Dean’s arm. “Sam.”

Dean nodded, “Easy.”

Cas touched the second one, “your dad.”

“Yep.”

Cas touched the third rose on Dean’s arm and thought hard. He knew it was his uncle. . .what was his name? “Your Uncle Bobby!”

“Hey, good job Cas. Bet you can’t guess this last one though.”

Dean was right. Castiel had no idea who the last rose could be for. Dean didn’t have much of any family, let alone anyone else he could count on.

Castiel traces the lines of the tattoo with his finger. Dean’s skin was warm, warmer than the air and it was a warm day. He had freckles and you could see them through some of the light colors of his tattoos. He had so many freckles.

“I don’t know? Benny?”

Dean chuckled. “No way. I could never count on Benny like I could count on Sammy, or dad, or Bobby.”

Cas looked away from the rose and looked at Dean, his fingers still running across Dean’s skin. “I don’t know. Tell me.”

Dean grinned at him, his green eyes catching light. “It’s you, Cas.”

“What?” Cas felt his heart skip a beat. He dropped his hand from Dean’s arm.

“It’s you. You’re the fourth rose. I can always count on you to be there for me. Even when I do dumb shit like start to smoke and drop out of school. You’re always there for me when I need you.”

“Dean. . . “ Castiel couldn’t really describe what he was feeling, but it was a lot like the time he was hanging out with his middle school crush named Hannah at the school fair. When they were alone and Castiel kissed her.

“I hate how we don’t talk like we used to anymore. I really miss hanging out,” Dean said.

“Me too, honestly.”

“Well, I’m glad you feel the same. It’d be a damn shame if I got a tattoo because of you being there for me and you didn’t even want to hang out.”

Castiel laughed, “Dean I can’t believe you’ve had that tattoo for that long but never told me.”

“You never asked before.”

“Well, I’m glad I finnally did.” Time suddenly started moving in slow motion. Castiel couldn’t rub off this feeling that he had to kiss Dean. He had never felt this way with Dean before, but the way Dean’s eyes were glowing in the light, the nearness of his mouth, and the feeling of Dean’s rose tattoo under Castiel’s thumb was just really a lot.

Castiel had his hand on Dean’s arm again. He was circling the tattoo with his thumb. Cas could see Dean’s face and how he was looking at him, but Cas couldn’t look Dean in the eye. He would kiss him. Right now though, it was hard to think Dean didn’t want that with the way he was inching his face closer and closer to Cas’s.

Dean kicked his legs up onto the table and turned to face Cas, who’s eyes were glued to Dean’s arm.

Their knees were brushing.

“Cas,” Dean whispered.

Cas didn’t even move. “Cas, look at me.”

Dean’s other hand cupped Cas’s chin, and he tilted Castiel’s head to look at Dean. It was like Dean was staring into his soul.

Dean didn’t force Cas to kiss him, although he easily could have. It was as though Dean was too afraid to do it himself, but he was growing impatient. Like he had been waiting his whole life for this moment. Cas really didn’t want to make him wait any longer. Who would’ve guessed the one with the tattoos would be too shy to make the next move?

Dean let go of Cas’s face. His hand fell to his side.Cas grabbed his arm. He was holding both of Dean’s arms.

Dean was looking at Cas with this look that he didn’t even know how to begin to describe.

It was a whole new level of lust, and it was all from Dean. Dean Winchester. To him, Castiel.

Where had this feeling been all along?

Castiel couldn’t wait any longer. He let go of Dean’s arms and instead cupped the sides of Dean’s face and pulled Dean into a kiss.

Dean responded almost immediatley, and almost violently as he sucked on Cas’s lips so hard. Cas pulled Deans hair and put his hand on the back of his neck and brought him in closer.

Dean uncrossed his legs and Cas found himself on his knees on a picnic table with Dean Winchester’s legs wrapped around him, pulling on Dean’s shirt, and Dean pulling Castiel’s hair.

Dean tasted like childhood, and love, and red rose tattoos. He tasted like freckles and warmth.

Castiel never wanted to stop kissing Dean, but when he did, and they walked back to the car, Dean told Cas how every thorn on his rose was a time when Dean wanted to kiss him but couldn’t.

And why they stopped talking started to make a lot more sense.

This time, when Castiel was done writing, he had lines and lines of words in front of the cruiser, but he also had streams of tears going down his cheeks.

Castiel always tried to force a story out that he knew nothing or felt nothing about. He never before tried to write about this.

He would never sell a book about a gay couple, it was the 70s. He’d always try to write about a girl and a boy, but he knew nothing about females in relationships.

Last night, though, when Dean and Cas lay on the couch together talking about the past and rubbing old tattoos, Cas said fuck it.

He managed to get this far. He stayed with Dean for this long, his dad, brother, and uncle supported him. The world would just have to learn how to. Castiel was done with trying to force ideas out into the world. He wanted to put stories out there, real life stories.

Dean had people who were there for him no matter what, so did Cas. It was time to stop being afraid of evil.

#im so tired #its 4 am #im sorry if this sucks lmao #destiel #fic #tattooed!dean #writer!cas #highschool!destiel #dean winchester #castiel #dean and cas trash

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doomedandstoned · 7 years

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Season In Hell:

King Zog

Debut LP Stokes Ungodly Flames

By Billy Goate

Everything's too fucking LOUD!

Australia has always felt like a second home for me, even though I've not gotten over there too often in recent years. My grandparents, after homesteading with a family of seven in Anchorage, decided to uproot and hammer down fresh tent pegs in Western Australia. Well, more like a houseboat, to be precise. One of my earliest memories is watching Tom Baker's Dr. Who (I'll forever identify him with the role) on a black and white television below deck, docked in the harbors of Perth. The whole experience was like being on Earth 2 for me. When I came back as a young adult, I remarked that Australia is what the U.S. would look like if the British had won the War of 1776.

As you can imagine, then, I'm quite fascinated with the heavy music scene Down Under and follow it keenly. People, it is absolutely exploding there. Just pick your city: Melbourne, Tasmania, Brisbane, and the aforementioned Perth on any given night you can get your ear drums blown by some incredibly talented axe wielders and amp worshippers. One band that recently caught my interest was KING ZOG:

Daniel Durack (lead vocals, rhythm guitar)

Vince Radice (lead guitar, vocals)

Rory Keys (drums)

Martin Gonzalez (bass)

"Guitarist Vinnie Radice started this band with me in 2013 after I'd moved back from London, having lived and worked there for eight years," front man Dan Durack tells me. "We'd both been in rock 'n' roll, garage, and punk bands over the years and it was Vinnie's idea to put together a band to play heavy music, with both of us being obsessive fans since we were kids growing up in rural Western Australia."

You're curious about their name, I'm sure. I was. The first hit you get for your armchair sleuthing is Zog I, King of the Albanians. This enterprising fellow went from Prime Minister to President to King (yes, all three). "Bizarre King Zog" he was called. Despite all of his tyrannical proclivities, perhaps his one redeeming quality is he was one crazy chain-smoker, said go through 200 cigs a day. Could there be a connection to the band? It didn't hurt to ask. "A friend of mine's family is of Albanian descent and told me about Zog," Dan recalls. "A pretty interesting character. I thought the name sounded great, perfect for a metal band."

Even though King Zog is pushing five, they've only been gigging for the last two years. "It took us ages to find the right rhythm section. It was pretty comical, really. One bassist we believe took all the ecstasy in the '90s. After being in the band for a few months, he went away for a fortnight then came back and forgot everything. Another guy brought a practice amp to rehearsal and starting slapping the bass to Stevie Wonder's "Higher Ground" while we were setting up."

The bad luck didn't end there. "Unfortunately, we had to fire our drummer, Merrick, after we finished recording. Lovely man, but sadly just not the right guy for us anymore. He likes playing fast, with double kick, whereas we just want to get slower and dirgier, if that's a word. We found a killer young drummer, Rory, who's fit in really well, so already looking forward to recording with him. Since it took fucking ages to settle on a recording line-up, Vinnie and I already have a bunch of songs that the band is currently learning. Feels great to be finally progressing after years of being bogged down with people who weren't quite up to it."

King Zog by King Zog

This summer, King Zog's eponymous debut stole my attention. Enticed by Dominic Sohor's arresting album art, I stopped what I was doing and gave it a spin. It's a slow burner with a steady doom groove from end to end. Sometimes a band just does the basics really, really well. So well, in fact, you feel like you're hearing the sound fresh, almost for the first time. That's King Zog for you.

"We finally began recording last year with a rock 'n' roll producer named Ken Watt," the band says, "an amazing guitarist/front man and was in a couple of great Perth rock bands, Valvolux and The M-16s. He's not really a metal guy, but he's obsessed with guitar sounds and tone and knew exactly what we wanted. He set up a studio in his house right in front of Scarborough Beach, one of Perth's most popular beaches. It was winter when we began laying down tracks and it was pretty inspiring seeing the wild coastal weather while recording."

That would explain the churning feeling I'm picking up on here. Songs like the opening "Lost At Sea" present a slow, doom jam with strong, clean vocals that remind me a lot of Plush-era Scott Weiland, emotive guitar solos, and a stormy undercurrent that's pays homage to Alice in Chains, Stone Temple Pilots, and Nirvana, presumably the music. In other instances, the influence of Black Sabbath is both undeniable and welcome (check out "Fuck Island," a real headbanger). While 'King Zog' (2017) is a metal album through-and-through, it is appropriately tempered by these influences, which makes the record, well, interesting to listen to.

"Recording it felt easy since we'd been playing those songs for about three fucking years," Dan remarks. King Zog lucked out in having their debut mastered by famed English sound engineer Noel Summerville, whose resume includes decades of greats, including records by Bolt Thrower, Napalm Death, and Electric Wizard's Witchcult Today, "a record I've been pretty fanatical about since it came out."

The songs on the new record go back to when King Zog was still in is awkward growth phase, just Dan and Vinnie. "We write well together. We're good at completing the other's songs," Dan says. "I'll put in a bridge here; Vinnie will add a chorus there. Once I get a theme for a song in my head the lyrics come quickly, which might sound obvious to anyone who reads them! I try to keep it simple. I like a good vocal melody having grown up listening to Ozzy, Dio, Gillan, Paul Di'anno, Rob Halford, and Blackie Lawless."

These vocal anchors make sense for this record. While much of doom today adopts death-style vox, Dan prefers singing over the growling. "Cookie Monster style," he calls it. "Just a personal preference. I do like eating cookies -- we call them 'biscuits' in Australia." I almost forgot that. Please pass the biscuits.

And that grungy sound I described earlier? Turns out I was on to something. Dan and I grew up in the same era. "I was a teenager until 1994 and dug some of the grunge bands," he tells me, "particularly Nirvana, L7 and Mudhoney. Some of Soundgarden's stuff. I'd been pretty metal-obsessed as a teenager, but as I got into my twenties I did what a lot of people do and started looking backwards and getting into the pre-history of the stuff I loved, which led to a lot of '60s psychedelia, garage rock, and proto-punk."

This included bands from the groundbreaking Nuggets compilation, The Stooges, MC5, and Aussie acts Radio Birdman and The Saints. "All rites of passage bands for young Australian men," he explains “Australia had a band called The Missing Links in the '60s which I loved -- trashy and loud. While I never stopped listening to metal, I did embrace '70s and '80s punk and a lot of '60s music."

From there, Dan spend time in London soaking in the scene. "Living in England and its close proximity to Europe was perfect for metal shows and festivals, and I saw a lot of bands. I'd go out of my way to see Electric Wizard. I took a bus to Bristol and a plane to Berlin to see 'em. That band makes me feel like what it must have been like for a Sabbath-loving teenager in the '70s. They are easily the band I most look up to in terms of sheer mind-numbing, crushing, hypnotic riffs." At this point, I was curious what else was on rotation in the King Zog playlist. "Lately been listening to Windhand, Monolord, Yuri Gagarin and we listen to Sleep a lot."

Before I let front man Dan get back to riff-slinging, I had to ask about Perth. It had been years since I'd been there and I was curious what it was like living and gigging in the City of Light. "Perth's an isolated city. Whether that's reflected in the music, I don't know. There's a small but vibrant metal scene here that's also quite supportive. We've played with grind bands, punk bands, thrash bands, southern metal bands. We supported Acid King last year which was cool. We play loud and there's a lot of young sound engineers in Perth who are okay with that, thankfully.

There was that one time, however. "We played one venue down the road from where I live, an RSL hall (Returned and Services League, a support organization for men and women of the Defence Force) which we played at a couple of months ago. They'd been hosting bands for about a year but shut it down after we played. We'd only played a few songs when the guy who ran the bar yelled at me, saying 'You might be the best fucking guitarist and singer in the world but we'll never know because everything's too fucking LOUD! You've even alienated your own fucking fans, they're sitting outside!' We think the venue is probably better suited to bingo nights."

I don't anticipate King Zog turning the volume down anytime soon. 'King Zog' (2017) is an enjoyable ripper from end-to-end. "We're getting vinyl pressed in the next couple of months so looking forward to getting hold of it. We're focused on the next album already. Only the most lumbering, killingest riffs will make the cut."

Follow The Band.

Get Their Music.

#D&S Reviews #King Zog #Perth #Australia #Stoner Rock #Doom #Metal #Grunge #Doomed & Stoned

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polystumbles · 7 years

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Diary 08/27-30/2016: The Art of the Family Trip

Amy’s Aunt and Grandma live in Chicago, and the kids had never met either. We decided to head to Chicago so that thing 2, our resident artist, could celebrate her Birthday amidst the great art of Chicago, and meeting the new family. It so happened that Amy’s mom and Dad decided to join us and had already driven over earlier in the week. I had made most of the plans, booking us a lovely executive suite, and her parents a room in the same hotel, all at a great discount, because that's what I do! Get great deals!

On the flight over the kids are awesome, because that's what they do. They read, the play, as we split them up thing 2 with me, thing 1 with mom. It's smooth sailing all the way into the hotel room, where the kids are excited to meet up with their grandparents. We hand them off for a spell, and settle into our room.

Once they’re gone, I haven't forgotten Amy’s reaction in NOLA. How she mentioned relief at getting sex out of the way. At the first opportunity, I make sure to throw her on the bed and fuck her. Rather than resent her statement, I decided to play with it.

The rest of the afternoon is great. We go for late morning Dim Sum, visit the Wicker Park Spy Agency, head to the Intuit Art gallery, for a large collection of African American art, and then down to Hyde park for board games and Ice cream. We take the kids back to the hotel, order some deep dish pizza (when in Rome they say), put them to bed, then walk over to our evening show, leaving the grandparents to babysit.

I got us tickets to an evening variety show with some burlesque, music, and comedy. We arrive early, walk around some more before settling down with some drinks before the doors open. We talk about a million things, but mostly we wind down to one question from Amy, “why haven't you left me?” If Z and I are so much more compatible, and we had gone through such a tough time, and even polyamory seemed to come easier for the two of us, why didn't I just leave her at any point once it became clear how much stronger my relationship with Z has become.

It was an interesting conversation. Both in terms of what she assumed, and what she observed. I told her as clearly as I could that the answer was very much the same answer to why I stay with Z despite her challenges: I’m here for the potential, not the promise, of our days and nights together. I talk about how we’re partners, her, me, z, in different and complementary ways. That perhaps the biggest thing we need is to let go of who we were, and continue to find, instead, who we can be. We can be great, we just can’t be who we were. Who we were had stopped working as a healthy relationship. We needed to forge a new path. But we are people capable of doing it, and she is someone worth walking that new path with.

We watched the show, then stopped by a lounge on the way back for some impromptu dancing. It was one of the few lounges on our walk back that had people of color -- the others were whiter than mayo, and so drunk it was might have been cinco do mayo(naise) -- so it was not going to be my crowd. We have a good time, avoid the few overly drunk people, and get out before we turn into pumpkins.

On the walk back Amy and I stop at one of the bridges to talk some more. She had printed out a poem to read to me. It was the poem Polystumbles’ Last Theorem -- a poem I wrote for her back in 2014, that to this day remains as what is probably my all time favorite that I’ve written. We laugh at the wordplay and remember how it came to be, that she had a need -- I hadn’t written her a poem in a while -- and she gave me a constraint -- that it be based on Fermat’s Last Theorem. Why that constraint? Well years ago I had given her a book on the hunt for a solution, and it was a scintillating read. I don’t think she had it’s poly-esque implications, as explored in my poem, in mind. We laughed, smiled, cried, and walked our tired asses back to the hotel. We fell asleep after relieving the grandparents.

Sunday, Thing 2 largely takes charge. She navigates us using a map to the places I ask her to lead us. We have a quick snack ahead of her birthday brunch, then walk to Millennium Park for Cloud Gate, then some Chakaia Booker. We make it down to Buckingham fountain, before its time for brunch at Bohemian House with the grandparents, the great aunt, and the great grandma. Thing 2 loves brunch almost as much as she loved dim sum. I have a feeling that trips around her birthday are going to be a common thing. From brunch, it was off to Navy Pier, with a stop at After-Words bookstore because Thing 1 needs books like some people need air.

Sunday night, Chicago didn’t have as much going on, and Amy and I decided to stay in and rest from the day’s insane walking. We take the kids to the hotel’s pool and unwind the rest of the evening, ordering in some dinner.

Monday, we bid the grandparents adieu and pack up ourselves. I laugh when I find some “sprinkles” from my Friday trip to the Ice Cream Museum in my pocket. The hotel’s paintings are not anchored to the wall, so a new entry joined my collection of Six Word Story additions. With just until the early afternoon left, we take the kids to museum row, hoping to see the aquarium. However, the line is so long that we end up going to the Field museum instead, which Isn’t exactly a bad option! Thing 2 adores the ancient jewelry and the rare gems. Surprise! Not. They end up having to be peeled out of the museum when it’s time to go.

We make it home, exhausted, but smiles all around even near midnight. All in all it was a great family trip.

#polyamory #diary #amy #thing 1 #thing 2 #kids #getaways #chicago

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supportforindieauthors · 4 years

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Into Darkness by Scott Prill

“Are you coming, Nate?” The woman looked tired and frustrated. “They would really want to see you.”

“I’ll be in. You don’t need to wait for me.” Nate did not look up as he spoke from his seat in the lobby.

“Okay. Please come soon.” The woman disappeared down the hallway.

Nate watched her until she was no longer in view. He had no intention of going into that room. He longed for something better than this present circumstance: something more optimistic, less tragic, with a good ending. That was not possible now.

His gaze turned to a pile of magazines on the round table in front of him. Outdoor Adventure was the first magazine that caught his eye. He picked it up and casually thumbed through several pages. On page seventy-seven he stopped and stared.

The scene before him immediately captivated his thoughts. The page featured an advertisement for a vacation package at an idyllic lake somewhere far away. The advertised image carried him to a place back in time and close to his heart.

He remembered fishing with his grandfather and grandmother on Little Bear Lake, a lake associated with a chain of lakes in northern Minnesota. We would go up to the lake every summer, always the fourth week of July. It was just the three of us. Those were the best vacations. Then there was that one day that I will always remember.

Nate closed his eyes and journeyed back to his past.

“You need to add another layer, Nate,” Grandma Belle said.

“But I will be too hot, Grandma.”

“You can always take that layer off, but you can’t put it on if you don’t have it.”

“Listen to your grandmother, Nate. She has been around a long, long, long time, and with all that experience, she knows what is best for you,” Grandpa Bill added with a wink.

“Don’t listen to him about such nonsense. Your grandpa is older than me. He told me he was friends with Teddy Roosevelt.”

Bill laughed and said, “I do know where the best fishing holes are. Teddy told me.”

I glanced at my grandfather’s clothing. He wore only a loose-fitting long sleeve flannel shirt, no undershirt or jacket. My grandmother wore at least three layers, including a jacket. Both my grandparents looked younger than their sixty-five years.

“You didn’t even bring a coat, Grandpa.”

“I’m old and too tough for the germs to get me. You, however, are right on their menu. Besides, you never know when a storm can blow up. That jacket will be just fine and keep you dry. Any rain will bounce off of me.”

“But there is not a cloud in the sky.”

“For now. The sky is so blue, just like your grandmother’s eyes.”

“Bill, you know my eyes are hazel.” Grandma chuckled.

I loved the way the two of them would banter back and forth. It was almost like two school friends, who had been married for over forty years.

After I accepted the fact that my jacket was coming with us, we stepped into the old wooden rowboat that was tied to a small dock. I untied the rope that held us to the dock and soon we were heading out into the lake. I sat in the front scouting for fish. Grandma sat in the back fiddling with the fishing poles, and Grandpa manned the oars from the middle bench.

We usually aimed for a place on the lake that was to the left of the cabin and in front a wall of evergreen trees that lined the shore. About four hundred yards out from the cabin, we dropped an anchor at one of our favorite fishing spots. I also

suspected Grandpa didn’t want to row any farther. Here, we were in a bay protected from the north wind. The water was about twenty feet deep from the surface to bottom.

When the surface of the bay was quiet, you could see down to a depth of ten feet. If the wind picked up, waves on the lake would diminish the clarity. Today, the surface was still. I thought I saw a fish swim under the boat. That had to be a musky! Looking back, it was more likely a carp or other type of rough fish.

The beginning of any fishing excursion was always exciting. We knew the fish were there and soon our stringer would be full. At least, that was what we hoped. Bass, walleye, northern pike, perch – perhaps a bluegill – it didn’t matter. And if we were really good, or lucky, maybe that musky would find its way into our boat.

“Get your poles ready, Nate. The fish are hungry, and I am hungry to catch them.” Grandpa said with a smile partially hidden by the shade of his broad rimmed safari hat.

We each used two rods: one was for casting out away from the boat, the other for still fishing off of the side. We used live bait: night crawlers, leeches, and minnows placed gently onto plain hooks or on a lure. I didn’t like to bait my hooks – the worms were slimy, the leeches tended to suck on your skin if you waited too long, and I never could place the squirming minnow on the hook correctly. But with the wise coaching from my grandparents, I learned. Otherwise, it would be a long day on the water.

“Nate, what are you using today? Grandma Belle asked.

“Minnow off the side and night crawler to cast with,” I replied.

“What, no leech?” Grandpa raised his eyebrows and smiled his soft smile.

“Maybe later, we will see how it goes,” I knew I was being teased.

My grandparents were masters at managing two fishing poles; I not so much. It seemed I would get a bite on the minnow line at the same time I got a strike with

my night crawler attached to a feathery lure. The result was no fish hooked on either line.

On that one day, I was having no luck. My grandparents were doing well, as usual. They caught five walleye, one northern pike, and several jumbo perch.

“Boy, I’m a terrible fisherman.”

After reeling in another walleye, my grandmother said softly, “Nonsense. Let me see your casting line. Let’s try something new.”

I handed my pole to my grandfather who in turn handed it to her. She did something with the bait, and my pole was handed back to me. It must have been magic. My first cast yielded nothing. Then on my second cast, the water exploded as a fish leaped at least a foot out of the water in front of me. The pole almost jerked out of my hands.

“I got one!” I yelled as I recovered from the initial shock.

The pole bent in the shape of a “U” as the fish fought mightily to escape. The taut line veered under the boat and then in a straight line out away from the boat. I thought I would lose the fish and pole at that instant.

“Easy Nate, you have to play him.” My grandfather scooted up next to me and put his hand on my shoulder. ��Let him go a bit, and then reel him in a bit. If you play with him, he will tire and you can bring him to the boat.”

I listened to my grandfather, and after a half an hour I brought the fish to the boat. I didn’t know who was more tired – the fish or me. Grandma Belle brought the net under the fish and with my grandfather’s help they heaved the netted fish into the boat.

“My, you have caught a beauty, Nate.” My grandmother’s eyes sparkled like the water.

“Let’s see here.” Grandpa took the hook out of the fish’s mouth. He reached into his worn tackle box and pulled out a small scale. He attached the hook-like part of the scale and held up the fish. “It says six pounds and two ounces. That’s huge!”

“What is it, Grandpa, Grandma?”

Grandpa gazed at the fish and announced, “You caught a largemouth bass. Biggest one I have ever seen.”

“We’re so proud of you, Nate. See what perseverance can do. Stick with what you are doing, and the reward will be so worth it.” Grandma Belle was right, as she usually was.

“But you set the bait, Grandma. This is just as much your fish as it is mine.”

“No, Nate, I did not do anything to the bait, except to tell it to catch you a fish. This fish is all yours.”

We were all beaming with smiles as Grandpa placed the bass on a stringer with the other fish. I’ll bet the bass was not happy, though, having been caught, and by a kid.

An hour later, the wind blew up and the lake’s surface became choppy.

“I feel a storm is coming.” Grandpa checked the sky off to the southwest as black clouds massed against the blue sky. “It’s time to head in.”

We rowed the boat in and tied it to the dock. The fish we caught were placed gently in a large cooler full of ice that Grandpa kept in the car.

“What will happen to my bass?” I asked as we loaded our gear into the car to leave the lake.

“This is a special fish – so something special, just like you. You’ll see.” Grandma Belle said.

The storm hit after we had left the lake. The area was pounded with rain, hail, and high winds. I was glad to be safe with my grandparents.

The rest of summer and fall flew by. Winter arrived along with the anticipation a boy has for Christmas. That particular Christmas, my family went to Grandpa Bill’s

and Grandma Belle’s house, a place of fond memories. When it came time to open presents, Grandpa brought out a wrapped box that was heavy.

“Here’s something for you, Nate.”

A note attached to the box read, Nate, to remember our special time together, Grandpa Bill and Grandma Belle.

When I opened the box I saw the bass. It had been mounted on a dark wood board. The taxidermy was so well done that the bass looked like it had just been pulled from the water. An inscription engraved in a brass plaque underneath the fish read, Largemouth Bass, Six pounds, Two ounces, Little Bear Lake, Caught by Nate Sundlund, July 25, 2000.

Looking back, that was one of the happiest experiences of my life. I had caught a trophy fish and with two of my favorite people. I wish those times could have lasted forever.

Nate opened his eyes and smiled as he closed the magazine. He placed it on the table and noticed another magazine off to the side. He looked at it and winced at the title – Alzheimer’s Digest. Nate put his hand on it and then after a moment, picked it up reluctantly.

He knew about the disease, what it could do to the affected person and those around that person. But that knowledge did not help his current situation. He glanced at several pages not focusing on anything in particular. Nate turned to a page with a poem. The poem was titled, “Ode to Alzheimer’s.” The author was anonymous. It read:

The day began bright and new Clear water in the lake, Open eyes by sunlight dazzled Warmth felt across the land.

In the meadows daisies spreading Like knowledge expanding, Boundaries without limits Extending beyond the grasp.

Spider webs fill dim passageways Dust stains on the crystal, Nightmares for the days approaching See changes of the guard.

Sun’s eclipse blackens the twilight Flowers chocked out by weeds, Reflections with minds of their own Turbid creeks swirl with rage.

Thoughts in the abyss forever drowned Empty eyes wander lost, Caged beings starved for purpose Crippled minds beg to speak.

The Fool Confusion reigns as god Time has lost its way, Shuffling down the endless corridor To where light beckons.

To see this darkness of the mind Is to know it is so unkind. It is to hope we cling Someday a cure will bring.

With strength, we will prevail.

Nate finished the poem and read it again. The words spoke directly and forcefully to him. He gently tore the page with the poem from the magazine, carefully folded it, and placed inside his coat pocket. He gazed through the window at a dark storm aggressively mushrooming in the southwest skies. Just like at the lake that one year, he thought. Rumbles of thunder gave notice of the advancing tempest.

Nate knew what he had to do and stood up. He walked down the corridor and stopped outside Room #C222. To see this darkness of the mind/Is to know it is so unkind/ It is to hope we cling/Someday a cure will bring/With strength, we will prevail. The words gave him courage with a purpose, and he finally stepped into the room.

Grandpa Bill sat in one of those uncomfortable looking chairs opposite Grandma Belle. Nate’s mother stood off to the side of the bed. When she saw Nate, her eyes glistened with sorrow and pride.

Grandmother Belle was curled up into a fetal position in the small hospital bed. She appeared tiny with little resemblance to the kind, witty and exceptional grandmother whom Nate had known for so many years. A dynamic woman who enjoyed life, her eyes were now hollow and her mouth formed the shape of an “O.” She could see, but what she saw – no one knew. What she was thinking – one couldn’t guess. What would she say, if she could speak?

Nate felt a brief tremor of terror. This was a painful brush with mortality and he was not prepared to deal with it. He thought about himself for an instant. God, I don’t want to end like this. He felt selfish for thinking such a thought.

He looked at his grandmother. This is not how it was supposed to end for her, for them. His grandfather was holding her hand. They always held hands when they took a walk. Now they held hands again, maybe for the final time.

Nate put his hand in his pocket and grasped the page containing the poem. It gave him comfort. He pulled up a chair beside his grandfather and sat beside him. He put his arm on his grandfather’s shoulder.

“Grandpa – I know where Grandma is. She is fishing on Little Bear Lake for that king walleye, telling me to put my jacket on, and rolling her eyes at your bad jokes.”

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junker-town · 7 years

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When football goes away, what do we do with our weekends?

We asked St. Louis Rams fans and, surprise, Sundays weren’t ruined.

Football is about rhythms. The snap, the catch, the throw. The hit, the crunch, the thud. The drums of the high school marching band beating steady, the speakers of NFL stadiums pumping out top-40 hits. The refs blowing whistles, the players making guttural sounds as the huddle breaks. The stands chanting names, clapping hands.

As a fan, you feel these cadences somewhere in your chest. Maybe the pit of your stomach. They define your Sundays. They bleed into your Monday nights, your Thursday nights, your Friday nights, your Saturdays. For those who love it, football is a metronome that ticks throughout the fall to structure the weeks and order the days. It ticks back through time, too, anchoring you to your school, your family, or your home.

All sports do this, but football has become Sunday Service in America in a way that basketball, baseball, and hockey — with their massive, sprawling schedules and nightly games — have not.

So what happens when football goes away?

There’s no real way to figure this out, because football is woven into American culture like the stitching on a Starter jacket. But as people start to ponder the future of the sport — will parents let their kids play while evidence mounts that, hey, football might not be so great for you? — it’s a valid question to ask.

The best simulation of an America without football is to check in with the fans the Rams left behind in St. Louis a year after the team relocated to Los Angeles. I thought about finding a high school or college that no longer had a program, but I wanted to talk to the biggest group of people who had suddenly lost the team they loved. Rams fans (well, mostly ex-Rams fans, as it turned out) seemed like my best bet.

I put a call out on social media and got emails from more than 60 people. There wasn’t anything scientific about this. I didn’t target any particular cross section of any particular demographic, so the responses aren’t necessarily true for the entire region, nor is it indicative of what taking away a team elsewhere might be like.

But it is a glimpse into a collection of fan psyches. St. Louis wasn’t the biggest football town, you might argue — not compared to Dallas, Boston, Pittsburgh, or Green Bay. The Rams weren’t that good. It still was a football town, though, one that is now suing the NFL for a whole lot of money. And many people still loved the Rams.

The split was ugly. It left a group of angry, disillusioned, and bitter fans in its wake, many of whom described it like a nasty divorce. The ones I talked to took the time to answer an eight-question survey, often with close to 2,000 words. They wrote about their families, their team, their time, and their new, post-Rams lives. Many of them said writing it all down was cathartic. Their responses are below, edited only for length.

Several themes came through my inbox. Some weren’t surprising, such as how painful it was when the Rams left.

Kirby Lee-USA TODAY Sports

It was kind of like it was like a divorce. That’s the best way to put it. Where you’re trying everything you can to get your spouse to stay, trying to go to counseling, trying to buy them a new car, trying to work it out. And they just want nothing to do with you because they’ve got a girlfriend in L.A.

— James Kendall, Western Kentucky

It was a mixture of anger and sadness. With everything that happened in Ferguson a few years ago, it is hard seeing St Louis completely trashed by a slime ball like Stan Kroenke (who somehow is in the Missouri Sports Hall of Fame). I was angry at the NFL for allowing the farce of the relocation process to take place. Their "guidelines" are a joke designed to give political and legal cover to greedy billionaires that simply extort local governments and fans dedicated to their hometown team.

— Alex Kuhn, Wildwood

All sorts of things. Extreme anger, mainly, which I expressed in my mind by visualizing me Ric Flair chopping Stanley Steamer Kroenke's throat into oblivion. Also, I went through a semi-severe depression for a few days. I cried some the night after the relocation was announcing, sobbing in my bed until my now fiancee reminded me that real people die every day and maybe that would be something more worth crying for. I then ignored her and weeped some more, until the a copious amount of tears ran down into my neckbeard and made me feel like a wet dog. That was my cue to stop.

— Zachary Poelker, St. Louis

Many were somewhat devastated that their kids wouldn’t be able to grow up with the same team they had. Some felt they were losing the franchise that connected them to their parents at St. Louis itself. Almost all of them said it was harder than they expected it to be.

I’m 18, and I’ve been a fan for all my life because my dad is from St. Louis. I’m currently a high school in senior. I go to school about 30 minutes south of San Francisco. [...] My dad loves the city and my grandparents live there but for me the heritage of the city will always revolve around sports. Currently, I’m in search for a new favorite NFL team. Now that the Raiders are out of the question (because they are moving from the Bay Area), I’m going to have to turn to the 49ers or the Chiefs because they are the only other Missouri team. I was planning to be in St. Louis a lot more, specifically at this sports bar named Lester’s with some of the best fans in the world: Missouri sports fan.

— Ellie Lieberman, San Francisco

I have a 9 month old son. My wife and I found out she was pregnant about a month before the relocation vote had happened. It's is really sad to think I'll never be able to take my son to a game in our hometown. [...] Some of my best memories of time with my Father were from the 99 Rams season. The Rams had been a pretty rough team to watch in their first few years in town. It reached a point where every Sunday, my dad couldn't give tickets away at Sunday church. But when 99 rolled around, we had Marshall Faulk, we had Holt, Bruce, Hakim....it was on. I went to every playoff game at home. I remember dropping to my knees at our house during the Super Bowl praying to GOD PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T LET THE TITANS SCORE. The Greatest Show on Turf in my opinion was the most excited team to watch of all time.

— Christopher Marischen, St. Louis

Many fans said they weren’t sure what they’d do with themselves on Sundays before the season started, but ultimately found that life without a team wasn’t so bad.

I thought I was going to still watch football. My dad and I watched it every Sunday for years. But I ended up doing everything else. I went to MO Wine Country with friends. I went to special events. I went to parks. I went to family events. I drove up to Chicago to watch the Cards-Cubs at Wrigley. It was the best Fall I have had in years. I accomplished so much and never wasted a Sunday on the couch.

—Jeff Dreste, St. Louis

I'm a proud family man. I'm happy to spend time with my daughter and wife.

— Daryl, St. Louis

I thought I’d sleep, eat terrible food, and watch terrible 80's movies featuring Michelle Pfeiffer on the CW because I am too poor to afford cable. And I ended up sleeping, eating terrible food, and watching terrible 80's movies featuring Michelle Pfeiffer on the CW because I am too poor to afford cable. Oh I also go to the grocery store on some Sundays now, maybe about twice/month, which beats my previous high of never going to the grocery store ever so…

— Zachary Poelker, St. Louis

The Super Bowl was the first NFL game I watched start to finish last season. I watched here and there during the playoffs, mostly as background noise, and if I was with somebody who was watching a game I wouldn't storm out of the room in protest. But mostly, I stopped caring. I'd run errands or watch other sports or watch Netflix. It's actually pretty amazing how much more productive of a person I was--it turns out that drinking beer at 9 a.m. on Sundays was not the most efficient use of my time.

— John F., St. Louis

About half of the responders said that they kept watching the NFL but chose new teams like the Titans, Chiefs, and Packers (a few people said they went with Green Bay because the team is publicly funded). Others shifted their focused to root for college programs. Some said they hoped St. Louis got an expansion team again someday.

But a lot of them just ... well, stopped watching football. And some of those people said that they could easily imagine a world without the NFL, since that’s basically what their lives had become. For many, fantasy teams were the only reason they paid any attention at all.

Photo by Donald Miralle/Getty Images

At the end of the day, football is just a game, and I refuse to let the greed of a few disrupt my life. The sun still comes up in the morning, I still have a family and a job, and St. Louis still has franchises like the Cardinals and Blues that are run with fan-interest in mind, not just the financial interest of a crooked owner. I miss caring about the NFL. Much of my pigskin interest has transferred over to Saturdays and the college game. Hopefully my love for the NFL will return at some point, but right now I feel like a guy who just got dumped by his girlfriend for a richer, flashier guy who will take her for granted and never love her the way that I did.

— David Jones, Fenton, MO

As you can tell with my other answers, the rhythm of my life has not be disrupted at all. I've got more free time on NFL Sundays than ever. I can now spend more time and energy on NCAA football and rooting for my not-so-good Mizzou Tigers. :)

— Ben Choi, Columbus, MO

"Rams" had become part of my friends and my lexicon of language. Sort of tongue-in-cheek, but we used "Rams" as a replacement for anything positive. "You got a 98% on your biology final?! Rams!". Honestly, that is the only real rhythm disruptor. Outside of a long-running joke, the only hangup was finding a shelter to give the dozen or so Rams shirts and jerseys I had collected over the years.

— Timothy Barnes, St. Louis

I hope in my lifetime the NFL ceases to exist - not because they took my team away, but that process definitely opened my eyes to the creepy machinations of the league and allowed me to critically see all the complete shit they are able to get away with. Of course, 'my' team moving pales in comparison to real-life issues affecting actual people - like player safety, long-term healthcare of ex-players, co-opting cancer awareness drives to make cash, bilking municipalities into subsidizing billionaires' clubhouses, using 'patriotism' to make cash / pump up the USA's military-industrial complex, mishandling off-field issues involving players, et al. Those are all real issues that this sociopathic league gets away with every single year. Shame on me, I suppose, for not turning against the league until it affected me personally.

— Jack Kelly, St. Louis

Aside from making money, the one thing that the NFL seems to be best at is angering large portions of the country. Some Rams fans even said they started rooting for the Patriots — perhaps the most hated team in the league — because they were also battling the NFL.

If you make people hate you, they won’t wish you well. That’s not surprising. But what was surprising to me was how many of those people: a) said they were living happy lives without football, and b) were as surprised as I was by that turn of events.

This is a fairly simple takeaway. You might think, “Well, yeah, of course it’s not the end of the world, it’s just a game,” but I think that underestimates just how much it means to people. How baked into the schedule of people’s lives it can become.

The fact that many fans seemed relieved to realize they were capable of structuring their lives themselves is important. It shows that a league constantly trying to snake its tentacles as firmly into as many fans’ hours as it can might not always have as firm a grip as you might imagine. Many fans said they were happier now that their Sundays were free of Stan Kroenke and Jeff Fisher (although everyone’s are now free of Fisher — 7-9, baby). They spent more time with family and friends. Caring less — or not at all — about football gave them stretches of free time that they previously thought they didn’t want.

When I started this, I was expecting only negative reactions to the void football left. I was expecting people to say they missed their personal connection to the league, that they wanted their team back more than anything they put in its place. I assumed the American appetite for the NFL was insatiable.

Instead, I found a small pocket of people in a small corner of the country who have learned the (very) hard way that life goes on without football. And that sometimes, losing the thing you love can actually set you free.

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