#and it was the best watermelon I have ever tasted and several days later i am still chasing the high of that fucking watermelon

[blueskittlesart]

cold fruit in a hot kitchen (so i had this great watermelon last weekend)

#so I had this great watermelon last weekend. and the thing is it probably wasn't even that great of a watermelon #but I was four hours into an eight hour shift and we had thrown out all the watermelon salad because no one was eating it #and then our manager ran in and yelled that the client really fucking wanted watermelon salad. #so like six of us servers started frantically chopping watermelon. and the kitchen got really hot #in the way it does when everyone inside it is really stressed because there's no fucking watermelon salad #and after we chopped all the watermelon and the client got their fucking watermelon we all had a moment #where we looked at the remaining watermelon and we were so hot and cocktail hour was almost over anyway and the salads were all plated #and we all went for the watermelon and we ate it with the kind of rabid intensity you only get while eating cold watermelon in a hot kitche #and it was the best watermelon I have ever tasted and several days later i am still chasing the high of that fucking watermelon #and the thing is i know it isn't even the watermelon i'm actually missing #it's the feeling of cool liquid on hot skin and the feeling of a crisis averted and the feeling of camaraderie #that comes with devouring a watermelon in a hot kitchen with six other people who you have nothing in common with except that watermelon. #i don't dream of labor but i am dreaming now of being 4 hours into an eight hour shift eating watermelon in a hot kitchen. #i dream of laughing around the cold fruit in my mouth. I crave that watermelon like i'll die without it. #< honest to god this is real and that watermelon left such an impact on me that i had to draw it and write this. having a normal one #maybe this is insane but working in a team of people you truly like to do something you actually enjoy is so underrated #if only they fucking paid me i could work as a server for the rest of my life. unironically #skribbles

[kylervlyk734]

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#Youtube

[inkykeiji]

the clock is ticking, running out of time

characters: shigaraki tomura

genre: smut and angst

notes: AAAAAAH HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOMURA!!!!!! sorry i seem to write angst for all of my faves birthdays ehehe. this is technically set in the touya-nii universe!! | title cred: birthday by katy perry

warnings: 18+ minors dni, cheating, implied stepcest/pseudo-incest, toxic relationships, the slightest hint of degradation, noncon/dubcon video recording, extreme feelings of guilt

words: 4.4k

synopsis:

“It’s fine—”

“It’s not,”

“I didn’t come here to talk about Touya,” you say gently, letting your dress drop down as you straighten up. “Let’s—Let’s not think about him right now, okay? Today is your day, and I want to focus on you. Forget about Touya,”

A deep frown mars his face, his nose twitching again. It looks like he wants to say more, but then your hands are on him, roaming across his bony chest and sliding into the tufts of silvery-blue hair at the nape of his neck.

“It’s hard to buy a gift for someone who already has everything,” you’re continuing softly, gazing up at him through your lashes, so close your noses nearly bump together. Sweet breath wafts over his face, a tongue darting out to lick at his lips, as if he’s trying to taste it. “So I thought…I thought the best gift I could give you is me,”

And suddenly, Touya’s wiped from his mind.

You shouldn’t be doing this.

That’s the thought that’s been looping through your head for the past forty-five minutes, for the entire bus ride from Touya’s apartment to Tomura’s, for the walk from the bus stop to his condo complex, for the thirty-seven seconds it takes him to answer the door.

You shouldn’t be doing this.

But you want to.

It’s been months since you’ve seen him last, months since you spent the night with him, months since you’ve spoken to him at all.

4:06. The glowing numbers glare up at you from the screen of your phone, unable to stop obsessively checking your phone, mentally calculating the time you have left over and over again, even though you’ve already meticulously planned this outing down to the very second.

It’s rare for Touya to be out for an exact amount of allotted time, but when he mentioned that he had a three hour full body check up with his doctor that just so happened to be scheduled on Tomura’s birthday…Well, it was too convenient for you not to seize the opportunity.

The door swings open, breaking you out of your thoughts, and your name leaves his lips in a gasp, crimson eyes searching your face in disbelief. A beat of silence passes before he speaks again. “What’re you doing here?”

“Wanted to see you for your birthday,” you say simply with a shrug and he blinks several times, still staring at you incredulously. “You didn’t think I forgot, did you?”

And for a moment you’re terrified you’ve made a grave mistake, terrified that he doesn’t want you here, that he thinks the risk is too big—Touya will murder the both of you if he finds out—too dangerous, his body gone rigid in the doorway, breathing stopped.

But then a brilliant smile is splitting his face, and he’s pulling you into his arms, crushing you to his chest as his fingers curl in the material of your dress.

And you—you practically collapse against him, sighing out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. He still smells exactly the same, just as you remember—like cheap cigarettes and watermelon bubblegum.

The scent evokes thick unfurling remorse, sinking heavily in your stomach, the mantra you’ve been repeating to yourself for the past few days immediately flowing through your mind, a desperate attempt to reassure yourself, to reason with yourself, to justify this decision.

Because you both deserve closure, don’t you? After everything that’s happened? After leaving him without a trace, without so much as a phone call or a quick text to at least let him know you’re okay?

Because Touya’s cheated on you how many times throughout the first six months of your relationship? One more teeny tiny instance of infidelity—the last one, you promise yourself—shouldn’t hurt, so long as he doesn’t know about it.

Right?

Really, this does nothing to dispel the culpability churning in your chest. No, Tomura’s bright boyish smile does that all by itself, sincere in the way it’s stretched across his face as he tugs you inside.

And...And suddenly, none of it really matters. Not in that moment, at least. Suddenly, all of those statements are rendered true; Tomura does deserve this. Suddenly, you realize just how much you’ve missed him.

“I have to be quick, I’m sorry,” your voice cracks under unexpected emotion, but Tomura doesn’t seem bothered by it at all, ecstatic over the fact that you’ve come to visit at all.

“That’s fine,” he’s saying as his hands roam your body, kneading and squeezing with surprising gentleness, eyes shining and wide as they follow his touch, as if he can’t believe you’re here, can’t believe you’re real.

It has your heart shattering in your chest, jagged shards puncturing your surrounding organs, burying themselves deep within you, never to be dug out. A lump lodges itself in your throat, voice frail and full of spit as you speak around it.

“I missed you so much,” the words rush from between your lips without your permission, and Tomura pulls back, smile fading as his gaze searches your face.

For a moment, you can tell that he wants to berate you for disappearing without any contact at all, can see it shining clear as crystal in his eyes as they narrow, as eyebrows knit and his nose scrunches, and you nuzzle your face into him. Guilt, a different kind than that which Touya evokes—this type lighter than the dense acidic guilt that sticks to your insides like thick tar any time sapphire sears through your mind, this type bitter and saturated with melancholy—roots in the pit of your stomach.

“I—I’m sorry I haven’t been able to text,” you mumble meekly, tears pricking your eyes. “Touya—”

“It’s okay,” he cuts you off with surprising softness, fingertips still trailing up and down your spine. “I figured. Uh, how is he? Like, how…How was he?”

The brand of those five letters, now fully healed, scald your flesh, blistering bright and hot as if you had just been branded again. With your bottom lip sucked between your teeth, you contemplate just outright telling him—he’s going to see it eventually either way, but you’re worried about ruining the mood a little too early.

No.

Better to rip it off like a band-aid, to get it out of the way now, instead of interrupting your birthday festivities later.

Your chest swells with a deep inhale, exhaling the words slowly.

“He was…” Livid. Furious beyond belief. Deeply hurt—distressed, distraught, dismayed. Visibly shaken up. In more pain than you’ve ever witnessed before. Terrified. “Upset. Naturally.”

Tomura waits for you to continue, speaking after a few moments of silence. “And?” he prompts, knowing Touya didn’t let you get away with a mere verbal warning, knowing you have more to say.

“A-And—” you bury your face against his neck, hot tears leaking from your eyes and staining his skin as they squeeze shut tightly, forcing the quivering words from your throat. “And he—He, um, he branded me,”

“What?” The word is just a huff of breath as large hands curl around your shoulders, yanking you from the sanctuary of his body so he can scrutinize your face, flashing crimson flying across your features. “He what?”

“His name,” you whisper, eyes still shut, face screwing up in distaste, the words bitter on your tongue.

“Where?”

“My ass,”

“Let me see,”

Eyes snapping open, your head begins to shake, motions cutting off when your stare meets his glare. Reluctantly you turn, flipping your dress up as you bend over a bit, pulling your panties down just enough to show him the slightly raised letters etched into your flesh forever.

Save for the soft, choked noise that sounds in the back of his throat, silence blankets the room, atmosphere suddenly stale and suffocating.

You glance back at him after a few beats, when your chest is beginning to burn from holding your breath in your lungs, and the sight that you are met with has your chest tearing itself in half, ribs caving in, giving way to the deep, dark ache swirling at the very core of your body.

Crimson eyes gleam in the setting sun, a thick layer of tears catching in the golden rays streaming through the window. It’s almost pretty in a way, brilliant ruby that shimmers and shines in the waning beams, practically glowing. But those beautiful, beautiful eyes are transfixed on your bare flesh, unblinking stare etching itself into your skin much like the letters Touya left behind.

His chin trembles just a little, front teeth sinking into his bottom lip in an attempt to halt it, head nodding in minuscule motions, barely noticeable, almost as if he’s confirming something to himself, affirming some unsaid thought sailing through his mind—almost as if he’s blaming himself.

“Fucking bastard,” he spits, though the words are wobbly, lacking heat and coated in sticky saliva. Using the sleeve of his black shirt, he wipes at his nose almost aggressively, quelling it’s twitching as he exhales harshly, nostrils flaring, before he sniffs twice and rolls his shoulders back, gaze finally meeting yours.

“It’s fine—”

“It’s not,”

“I didn’t come here to talk about Touya,” you say gently, letting your dress drop down as you straighten up. “Let’s—Let’s not think about him right now, okay? Today is your day, and I want to focus on you. Forget about Touya,”

A deep frown mars his face, his nose twitching again. It looks like he wants to say more, but then your hands are on him, roaming across his bony chest and sliding into the tufts of silvery-blue hair at the nape of his neck.

The glittering scarlet lace barely obscured by your thin dress singes itself into your flesh as his palms cascade over it, tracing every dip and curve of your body as they slide down to grope your ass.

You had bought the set for this occasion specifically—using cash you had stashed away, of course; Touya regularly checks your bank statements and credit card—with the intention of letting Tomura keep it, as a present.

“It’s hard to buy a gift for someone who already has everything,” you’re continuing softly, gazing up at him through your lashes, so close your noses nearly bump together, sweet breath wafting over his face, a tongue darting out to lick at his lips, as if he’s trying to taste it. “So I thought…I thought the best gift I could give you is me,”

And suddenly, Touya’s wiped from his mind.

He surges forward, foreheads bumping together from the strength, and crushes his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, nimble fingers curling in the hem of your dress and yanking, pulling the material from your body in one erratic motion.

He’s just as enthusiastic as he was all those months ago, large hands settling on your lace-clad hips as he guides you—back, back, back, stumbling over your own feet a little as he shoves forward, teeth clacking as his tongue tangles with yours, interspersed drool pooling at the corners of your lips.

A soft cry of surprise leaves your lips as he roughly spins the two of you so he’s the one reversing, collapsing in the overstuffed gaming chair abandoned near his desk and hauling you down with him, wheels rolling against the hardwood from the force.  

His lips are plush and chapped, kisses messy with strings of viscous saliva, and you’re reminded of how fun kissing Tomura is, playful giggles spilling from one mouth into another consistently breaking the flow as eager hands paw and pull, snapping the clasp on your bra and haphazardly discarding it, your fingers toying with the silver button of his charcoal jeans.

“Get on with it already,” he groans, impatient and entitled as ever, exactly how you remember, hips rutting up into you clumsily as hands travel up your torso to knead your breasts much too hard. And even though it shouldn’t, his predictability inspires a burst of intense warmth in your chest, burning bright like a tiny sun, heat seeping into your blood and flooding your veins as more involuntary giggles pry their way out of your mouth and into his.

“Think that’s funny, huh?” he asks, and although his eyes are fierce and sharp as they scrutinize your face, there’s a playful little grin decorating his lips, slender fingers tweaking a peaked nipple and snickering at your resulting yelp.

“Just missed you, s’all,” you mumble against him, lips dragging along his jaw then trailing down his neck, tongue peeking out to give kitten licks at self-inflicted scars and tugging pathetic little half-whimpers from deep in his throat, rough and uneven as he tries to swallow them back down.

There isn’t enough time for thorough prep, your only form of foreplay consisting of his cock being rammed down your throat—just get it fucking wet, he had demanded—hips stuttering as he desperately tries to keep from bucking while your tongue laves around the shaft, drenching it in spit.

“Fu-Fucking stop, or I’m gonna cum,” Large fists tangle in your hair, trying to yank you off his cock with a pathetic little whine. Gaping pupils outlined by a fine ring of scarlet observe the way your shining lips pucker around his girth as your mouth slides up, grip on your strands already loosening as his chest heaves, completely absorbed by your actions, breath escaping slightly parted lips in sweet little puffs.

A little tongue flicks against the slit as you reach the tip, placing an obscene openmouthed kiss to the head before pulling away completely. Your mouth hovers an inch above it, allowing a large glob of sticky saliva to dribble from your mouth onto the head, then kissing it again, pressing slippery lips to heated silky skin.

“Jesus Christ,”

The curse is nearly a moan, and you look up from your place between his thighs, batting your eyelashes and offering him a tiny smile. His eyes glitter as he gazes down at you, chest rising unevenly under the force of ragged breaths, a thumb swiping across your cheek in a manner that’s almost awestruck, as if he can’t believe you’re here.

“Get on my cock,” he orders a moment later, when the aching between his legs draws him back to reality, hips jerking up in reflexive, instinctive micro-movements, gleaming cock bobbing with the action. “And take your fucking panties off,”

It’s a little awkward and a lot uncoordinated, trying to maneuver yourself onto his lap while he slouches in that ridiculous gaming chair, unable to quell the way his hips prematurely thrust the moment you’re hovering over him, legs folded and cramped on either side of his thighs.

Pathetic little whimpers leak from your lips as his slick cock stretches your ill-prepared hole, cunt stinging as it struggles to adjust to the sudden breach, your nails digging into the lean muscles of his shoulders as a hiss is spit between clenched teeth.

But the moan he emits, deep and satisfying as you sink down on him, how his eyelashes flutter shut and his head knocks back against the headrest as he bottoms out, long ivory neck and prominent Adams apple on display, and the way massive hands grip your hips, fingertips digging into your soft flesh as he forces you to begin bouncing almost immediately, make it all so worth it.

Because he’s still so pretty, lids lifting a moment later to reveal dazzling ruby gazing at you in an almost voracious manner through thick dark lashes, glued to your face as he memorizes every micro-expression that transforms your features, the way your eyes roll back and eyebrows twitch, the way your mouth forms around those cute little gasps of his name that his rough thrusts punch from your chest.

“Did’ya miss my cock?” his breath is already coming out in short little pants, hips grinding urgently against yours, lacking any kind of finesse or rhythm. “B-Bet’cha did,”

“Uh-huh,” your head nods jerkily, hips rocking just as desperately into his as if to confirm your statement. His cock is pretty, too—a darker pink than Touya’s, half an inch shorter but just as fat, thick veins snaking around the shaft like vines.

“Dick drunk already?” he teases, and you’re positive his voice was meant to be more rancorous, but the large grin it’s spoken through, as if he’s proud of himself, chest nearly swelling with it, dilutes it, disintegrating the bitter shell that was supposed to coat the words. His tongue clicks, fluffy tufts of hair bouncing a little as he shakes his head. “What would your precious niichan think?”

You don’t answer—can’t answer—because it’s already so much, uncoordinated thrusting almost teasing in a way, the head of his cock unintentionally grazing that spot buried deep inside of you, the fleeting sensation mixing with that of the taboo, of the naughtiness of the situation, mewls spilling from your lips.

And you wish, so desperately, that you could take your time, that you could enjoy such amateurish gyrating, crude movements giving way to sloppy squelching that makes your stomach swoop and cunt throb as your clit glides against his pubic bone, but the mention of niichan reminds you of your finite amount of time and you lean back, soft palms finding the edge of his desk, fingers curling tightly around it.

Tomura’s bare feet planted on the hardwood keep the chair from shifting as you begin to really ride him, starting with slow, hard rolls of your hips that have cute little grunts hitching in his chest, bright eyes darkening as they watch, lids drooping a little, your movements increasingly gaining speed with each rock forward of your hips, leaning back against the desk and using it for leverage.

Blunt nails bite into your skin, and you want to remind him not to leave marks, but the words won’t keep their shape as they gurgle in your throat, evaporating into moans that break with each rough buck of his hips.

He finds a rhythm with you quickly, though, your lust-hazed mind dully noting that he’s better than before, the thought conjuring sudden, fierce spears of jealousy that slice through your chest, jaw clenching.

“Fuck, you—you’re still the best I’ve ever had,” he practically whines out, like he’s reading the thoughts on your face, but his voice is genuine, strained and hoarse with the confession. “Will probably always be the best I’ve ever had,” his sentence fades into a growl, almost as if he’s angry about it, hands squeezing your hips.

Nevertheless, you’re unable to stop the little smile those words paint across your lips, giggling breathlessly as bubbly warmth tingles in your chest, a sense of shameful pride rushing through your veins.

“Yeah?” he seethes in a huff, eyes narrowing. “Bet you’re proud of yourself for that, little slut,”

You are, you’re nodding, tongue rendered useless as his hips piston into you, cockhead repeatedly slamming against your cervix, reaching deeper and deeper and deeper the further you lean back, until the sharp edge of the desk is cutting into your back.

“I know you are,” he sneers, callous tone emphasized by his brute force as he fucks you. “V-Vain little bitch, happy she’s ruined me—ruined sex for me, forever,”

It’s getting harder for him to speak now, words punctuated by half-baked whimpers and swallowed, stifled moans, the sentiment under his speech accentuating pleasure for the both of you, dirty humiliation only making everything that much more intense, heady and addicting as it intoxicates your bodies, your minds, your souls.

“S-So the least you could do,” he begins in a keen, pace faltering as he squirms under you, yanking his phone from his back pocket. “Is give me something to—ah, Christ—remember you by,”

You should tell him no. You should cease all bouncing on his cock the moment he presses that little red button on his screen, the moment the flash next to the camera turns on, signaling it’s recording. You should.

But you don’t. You don’t, because he’s right. Because that guilt returns, seeping up through the floor of your stomach and spreading to your other organs, chest tightening as it reaches your heart. Because you took something from him, something he’ll never be able to get back, purely for your own selfish gain, just to get back at the man you love, and that isn’t fair. That will never be fair.

Instead, you look straight into the lens, hips beginning to ride him almost viciously, pushing out your chest further, bouncing tits on display as they heave with your lewd moans of his name, begging him to fuck you, begging him for his thick cum, and oh please, Tomura, please, give it to me, want your cum so bad, need your cum so bad, please!

He chokes on his own groan, the hand holding his phone beginning to shake slightly as the other finds its place on your hip again, his own thrusts pumping wildly as he spits expletives through gritted teeth, your pathetic little mewls egging him on.  

“G-Gonna cum?” he whines out, almost as if he’s begging you to say yes, the needy canting of his hips indicating that he’s about to, too, crimson searing into you as you nod messily. “Fucking do it, then, cream all over my cock like the good little whore you are,”

And you’re powerless to stop the loud cry that rips from your throat as your cunt clenches around him, only half of his name escaping in a yelp before your own shuddery gasp cuts you off, choking a little on the intense inhale, air sharp as razors as it rushes down your throat.

He follows less than a second later with a ferocious growl of your name, potent cum filling your aching little cunt, phone clattering to the floor as both hands grip your hips and force you to continue milking him until both of your bodies are shivering from the overstimulation.

You collapse against him, sweaty body melting into his, muscles quivering in exhaustion. Long arms encircle you, cradling you to his chest in a way that’s almost tender, phone laying forgotten a few feet away.

It’s just as nice as it was the first time, being swathed in his embrace, a gentle sigh slipping from between your lips. Nimble fingers trail up and down your spine, pressing into the notches, tracing the smooth, soft plains of your skin.

“Wish you could stay,” he mumbles into your hair, so quiet you nearly miss it—would have missed it if not for the vibrations in his chest.

Me too.

You want to tell him, want to express the same sentiment, to make it known that you desire the same thing, but the words tangle in your throat, that sticky brand of guilt that is specifically Touya refraining them from leaving your lips, yanking them back down into your chest with painful hitching breaths every time you try to speak.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until Tomura coos, pulling back a little to cup your face and tilt it up, big thumbs swiping across your cheeks as they catch glistening teardrops.

He doesn’t say anything—there is nothing to say—instead dipping his head to press his lips chastely to yours in the softest kiss he’s ever given you, mumbling his thanks for the birthday present a moment later.

There’s so much more you want to say, so much more you want to ask, but there’s no more time, opting to kiss him again in response, praying that it conveys all the things you can’t, all the things guilt won’t let you.

And then you’re scrambling off of his lap, collecting your dress off the floor and hastily pulling it over your head, turning back to find Tomura standing, holding out his hand, soaked lace in his grasp.

“Keep them,” you whisper, curling his fingers into a fist around the dainty material. “Happy birthday, Tomura,”

   ✰          ✰          ✰            

You have forty-five minutes before Touya arrives home—that’s cutting it close, you were supposed to have a full hour, but Tomura’s arms were so warm, his gently rising chest so inviting, his entire aura so comforting, that you had allowed yourself to indulge, just for a moment, to let your eyes slip shut and exhale a soft sigh of contentment, snuggling into his embrace and inhaling his distinct scent deeply, holding it in your lungs for a moment, wishing it would stay, wishing it would stick to the gummy walls, take root and find a home there, wishing you could keep a piece of him with you, always.

The water scalds your skin as you step into Touya’s glass shower, hands instantly reaching for Touya’s bodywash and squirting a generous amount in your palm.

You lather your entire body with it, until every inch of your skin is covered in foamy white suds, until your flesh has been scrubbed raw, the sharp scent—something woodsy and musky, like a crackling campfire of burning hickory wood, smoky and sweet—enveloping you entirely, stinging your nose.

It sticks in your throat and invades your lungs, as if cleansing you from the inside out, and you choke on it, are suffocated by it, little gasps and coughs falling from your lips while nails claw at your neck.

That dull ache returns as you rinse your skin, throbbing incessantly at the very core of your body as you watch the last remnants of Tomura swirl around the drain, infused in the soapy water.

It shouldn’t hurt this much, you’re thinking to yourself as your fingers massage shampoo into your scalp. It shouldn’t, but it does, a painful lump lodging itself in your throat, expanding a little more every time you try to reason with yourself until it’s gagging you.

Something stings your eyes—soap from the shampoo as you rinse it from your locks, or maybe the potently fragrant scent from Touya’s bodywash, you try to convince yourself, that lump sprouting tiny spikes and viciously slicing into the gummy walls, that lump forcing saliva still containing traces of Tomura to collect in your throat, that lump reminding you that you’re a fucking liar.

It’s fine. It’s fine. Touya doesn’t need to know everything, does he? What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right? And it was only a one time thing, wasn’t it? It’s alright, isn’t it?

These are the questions that cycle through your mind obsessively, running laps in your skull as you absentmindedly towel off your dripping body in your niichan’s bedroom, the gentle buzz of your phone snapping you out of your reverie.

For a moment, you’re terrified it’s Touya, texting you to tell you that he knows, you little slut, scrambling to snatch it off of the nightstand as trembling fingers hastily unlock it.

It isn’t Touya.

It’s Tomura.

best birthday present of my life, hands down. thank you. i love you.

The resounding slam! of the front door has your entire body flinching violently, the heels of Touya’s heavy boots thumping against the tile as he kicks them off mingling with his smooth voice as he calls your name.

It’s with watery eyes and painful little sniffles catching in your chest that your quivering thumb jabs at that tiny little trashcan in the corner of your screen, watching through blurry vision as the entire conversation disappears into the ether, gone forever—though those three glowing words that concluded the text are etched into the very tissue of your brain, where they will remain, forever.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura #eeeeee happy birthday baby boy ilysm #hehehehehe #ENJOY ENJOY ENJOY

[santigarcia]

Watermelon 🍉

Human Touch Part Three

a nathan bateman x f!reader series

Part One | Part Two

word count: 1.7k

rating: M/E for sexual themes, smut (pls only read if youre 18+)

summary: Nathan offers to teach you to box, but he ends up showing you something else instead...

a/n: sorry im late getting this one out! make sure you read part one and part two!! thank you again to @punkpascal and @sergeantkane! let me know what yall think!

Nathan took you back to your cousin’s after a few more days spent tangled in the sheets. He fucked you a couple times at your cousin’s place just for good measure. It was a bittersweet goodbye, you had to go back home. But there was a promise you’d come back, stay longer with him.

You dated virtually for a few months. It worked out because he was up all hours working and could text you. He’s surprisingly good at multitasking. The sexting and the phone sex were nice, but you both missed each other’s touch. Something about him made you ache to be back in his arms.

He surprised you with plane tickets one day, and you flew out to him. You spent a week this time. But the goodbye was even harder.

An intimacy had grown. Your lives begin to merge.

But there was an air about him that was different. He was happier than he’d ever remember being, but also scared out of his mind. There were hours that would go by when you wouldn’t see him. He’d be working, but mostly he was trying to collect his thoughts. You were such a damn distraction. Every moment spent with you felt like the air in his lungs would leave him, he’d never be able to breathe again with you taking the air from him. His heart thuds in his chest and he swears he’s having a heart attack. But it’s just you, it’s you.

He still can’t believe you’re real.

One afternoon you walked in on him pleasuring himself. Fully naked, flat on his back on his bed. Big hand pumping his dick. Moans echoing in the room. He didn’t see you or notice you until his end. He came with a loud groan and he moaned your name.

When he sat up, he saw you, there was a moment of panic in his eyes, but then it turned to a smirk.

“Enjoy the show?”

“Why didn’t you….come get me?” you flush. He looked away from your gaze, a heat rises in his face and the tips of his ears turn pink.

“I still can’t believe you’re real.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“How long have you been so alone?” your heart hurts and you go over to him and kiss the top of his head.

These are the things that plague him. He’s been so alone for so long; he’s trying to adjust to life with you in his home. The heat in his bed. Someone else showering. Your clothes in the closet. Your shampoo in the shower. Little traces of you.

He’s also not used to having to talk to anyone. He’ll spend hours or days even deep in his work. Barely remembering to eat.

You ate alone one evening, so you wandered into his lab to check on him. When you asked him why he wasn’t with you he snapped at you like a scared wounded animal.

“We don’t have to spend every second together,” he’d said. But as soon as he said it, he was full of regret. He never wanted to see that upset look in your eyes again.

“Well, I only see you if we have sex!” Which wasn’t true, but it’s what it felt like. You’re only here for a week, you wanted to make the most of it.

You walked out of his lab leaving him alone. You saw the look on his face, and he looked defeated. Hurt. Angry. At himself, not at you.

Later you went back into apologize, only to find him asleep at his desk. His face smushed against the keyboard. Several lines of letters were being typed by his cheek on the screen.

“Nathan,” you whisper and gently touch his shoulder. He bolts upright and groans a silent “fuck” when he sees all the letters typed out.

“You need to rest, come with me right now,” you tell him. He doesn’t disagree and he follows you to his bed. You lay down first, on you back with pillows propped behind you. “Come here,” you beckon. And with a happy sigh he lays down, resting his head on your stomach just under your breasts. He breathes deeply as you scratch his back and softly rub his fuzzy head.

“I’m sorry,” you say first. “I’m a little nervous about this.”

“I’m sorry,” he replies. “I’m nervous as shit. I’m not used to having another person around. Especially not someone so-“ his throat tightens. How can he tell you that he loves you already? “What if I’m not good enough for you? I don’t want to hurt you. But- I’ve been trying to think of ways to ask you.”

“Ask me what?” you stroke his beard gently.

“Move out here with me,” he’d whispered into your skin.

“I’d love to,” you whispered back. “And we’ll figure this out. But you are good enough. My only,” you smile and kiss him softly.

He paid for everything. He hired movers to get your things. He paid for any expenses and every ticket. Your parents were a little surprised you were dropping everything to stay with someone they’d never even met, but they’d also never seen you happier in your life.

Nathan enjoyed helping you unpack. He analyzed everything you owned. And he liked making a space for all your things. He rifled through your record collection with keen interest, and all your underwear.

It felt so domestic being with him, and you knew it was the right decision. You’d been worried about being homesick, but that feeling never came. He was your home. You had everything you needed and could possibly want.

You kept in contact with all your friends, you’d video chat with them. There were things you missed, but you settled into life with Nathan with ease.

The newest part for you was sharing space with someone. He’d not done that in some time either. He’s not used to someone curling up against him in the middle of the night. He runs hot, but he can’t push you away. He’ll just turn down the AC.

This morning, the bed is empty. Which isn’t uncommon. He keeps weird hours. You pull on his Henley and some warm pajama pants and wander through the house looking for him.

You find him outside on the deck, he’s practicing his boxing this morning. His fists collide with the punching bag and you can hear him grunt with effort. Unashamedly you watch his tight ass bounce as he hops around on the balls of his feet.

You make your presence known by opening the sliding door to the deck. He sees you with a smile, but he keeps going. He might be showing off just a little for you, but you don’t mind. The newness of the relationship has him doing things of the sort.

“Are you going to teach me how to box?” you ask sitting on one of the deck chairs nearby.

“Well get over here and I’ll teach you,” he grins, his shoulders heave as he breathes deeply.

He holds your hands in his, showing you how to make a fist. His touch is warm, his eyes flicker with desire. He’s sweaty and his kisses are salty.

“Hold your hands like this-“ he tells you. He stands behind you and guides your arms on how to throw a proper punch without hurting yourself. He slots himself behind you, and you can feel him through his thin gym shorts.

“Nathan.”

“Hmm?” he hums in your ear and kisses your cheek.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought I was showing you how to box? What did you think I was doing?” He hums again and ruts his hips against your ass.

“It’s this shirt isn’t it?” you lean back against his chest and wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses your neck and his beard brushes along your skin.

“Yeah, you look so fuckin’ good in my shirt. Hold still,” he tells you and slips his hand down your pants. He wraps his other arm around you to keep you still while he rubs tight circles on your clit. “You know, kitten, I haven’t eaten you out yet. Would you let me?”

“Outside?” you moan while his fingers move. He chuckles in your ear.

“No one’s out here. Please baby, let me taste you.”

“You really want to?”

His fingers move faster, and you buck against his hand. You’re so close, chasing it when he pulls his hand away. He brings his fingers up to his lips and groans in your ear.

“You taste so good, I want more.”

“Please- let me finish. Use your mouth.”

“Attagirl,” he winks and squeezes your ass. “If you’re not ready though, say so. It’s not like I haven’t seen you.” He smirks.

“Where do you want me?”

He points to one of the tables. You sit down on it and lay back. He kneels in front of you and pulls your pants and panties down your legs. He spreads your thighs and puts them over his shoulders while he dives in.

His eyes close in pleasure while his tongue laps at your folds and sensitive bundle of nerves. He sucks and kisses and grazes his teeth. His beard scrapes your thighs, and you scream out in the open air.

“That’s it baby,” he moans against your heat. “Fuck, you have the best tasting pussy.”

“Nathan!” you whine his name, and he goes in harder. Sucking and eating you alive.

“You’re sweeter than the watermelon we had the other night,” he purrs into your heat. He doesn’t stop until you’re coming all over his tongue. Your sweet essence he could drown in. You’re real. Warm, wet, and real. He burns with need after tasting you. He’d keep going if he weren’t so hard in his shorts.

He pushes his shorts down and leans over you, kissing you deeply.

“Can I?” he asks, there’s a pleading tone in his voice. You practically beg him to push inside, you wrap your legs around him and pull him towards you. He sinks in with a sigh. The table scrapes on the deck as he thrusts into you.

“So much for teaching me boxing,” you gasp out a moan when he spills inside of you.

“Next time,” he chuckles, falling on top of you. “I’ve had my workout for the day.”

xx

tagging: @pascal-isaac, @wasicskosgirl, @velvetmel0n, @huliabitch, @shadow-assassin-blix, @writefightandflightclub, @aellynera, @softboywriting, @veuliee2, @spider-starry, @mylifeliterally, @millllenniawrites, @ntlmundy, @foxilayde, @writingletterstothefire, @mandoplease, @anetteaneta, @feelmyroarrrr, @artsymaddie, @shakespeareanwannabe, @poedameronsbeard, @deanfanatic, @magicsuperheroes, @phoenixhalliwell, @that-one-weird-one, @mariesackler​

#nathan bateman #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman imagine #nathan bateman x you #my writing #human touch series #part three

[citrusella-flugpucker]

All 68 of my SU fics, apparently

((Because @novantinuum did it and then I wanted to do it and then they said “do it” and I took it as a dare

Compiling these gave me a sense of accomplishment. And pain. In my wrist.

Multi-line summaries nearly always squashed to lessen the vertical length of this post, even if most of it is below a readmore))

Multi-chapter fics, regardless of collection status (chronological order--oldest to newest):

And He Doesn’t Wake: My first SU fic, complete; “It can't end like this. Or: Waxing realistic as we examine the events of the episode "Bubbled".” Steven suffers halfway-realistic effects from being exposed to the vacuum of space. Probably not super canon compliant given what we learned in Growing Pains but a fic that branches off at Bubbled and rejoins canon around Mindful Education (and written around that timespan).

Diamond in the Rough: Incomplete; “Connie is in the hospital with a serious disorder, and her biggest chance is an experimental treatment combining minerals with blood transfusions. Little does anyone know...” Originally crack of “Connie gets powers from PD-infused blood” but then ASPR happened and I have to figure out where it goes now (and I want to! but...).

The Results Are In: Incomplete; “Sadie gets a piece of mail from her dad. For most people that'd be pretty mundane, but it's a little more complicated considering who exactly her dad is.” Barb/Blue Diamond crack (it makes sense in context) and affectionately called “Space Maury” internally for reasons that will make sense later. Has a similar but less “it flips the ENTIRE plot” issue with ASPR. I have many idea chunks but almost no connection between them

He’s Gone: Complete (and technically a oneshot with two “bonus chapters”); “Steven asks Peridot to get the shirt Connie got for him for his birthday from his closet. He says he wants to look nice. She's confused by his request. Greg and the Maheswarans are less confused and more terrified. He keeps saying it'll be okay. They'll be okay, even though he'll be going away. It'll just be a couple of days now. Or: Steven and Pink Steven are unable to fuse after being separated on Homeworld. That's not good for Steven.” Steven dies. That’s it. That’s the whole fic. Might potentially get an extra chapter or two still. Or not. Eh.

Thanks, Padparadscha: Incomplete/open-ended oneshot collection; “Stories about the best gem.” Padparadscha oneshots.

Your No-Good, Dirty-Rotten, Gem-Shattering, Rebellion-Leading Mother: Incomplete, little desire to finish; “What if Steven had gone to Camp Green Lake instead of Stanley? Or: If Steven Universe And Holes Were The Same Universe: A Fanfiction (thanks @captainjzh) Or, as the top of my Google Doc I started back exactly a year ago (*2019-01-07) says: SU x Holes: Because the fact that Steven Universe and Stanley Yelnats are both 14 is messing with me”. Wrote this as an exercise after reading the appalling original shopped screenplay for the Holes movie which was basically a nuclear fallout enthusiasts dream world but also quite possibly the worst and most uncomfortable thing ever written and I have had to have whole pages bleached from my memory

It’s Okay to Need Help: Incomplete (three chapters total planned), the last part of the pre-SUF-finale “Steven Corruption Theory” collection; “"Everybody needs support sometimes, and you need support right now, with this. And that's okay." She takes a deep breath. "It's okay to need help, Steven." Or: (Based in corrupted Steven theory as well as taking inspiration/using characteristics from a fic by @love-killed-the-superstar​) Sometime after coming back from corruption, Steven sees a therapist to try to hammer out some lingering issues.” Steven has specific lingering issues from corruption due to the way they had to mitigate it, and that affects how he communicates with his therapist some days. Just been blocked on the best way to write it

Waiting is Worse: Incomplete; “Is there anything more awful than the feeling of powerlessness?” The movie mostly ends the same, except Steven doesn’t un-rejuvenate.

Realism: Incomplete, strong desire to complete; “As much as he may want it to be, this is not a dream. He's not possessing anyone. It's not happening to someone else. It's real.” Steven has the same effects happen to him as the Watermelon Steven from Escapism--an arm and a leg are amputated.

The President Kisses Babies, and Other White House Briefs: Incomplete, open-ended oneshot collection with very little overarching plot; “Oneshot escapades of President Connie Maheswaran and her First Man, Crystal Gem and public speaker, Steven Universe.” Inspired by a Tumblr post and with more ideas in the pipeline! Love this fic even if I lost most inspiration for four years!!

Collection (series) oneshots (chronological order):

Citrusella Tries (And Succeeds!) to Write a Fic Each Day of the Bomb: A collection where I tried to write a fic each day of the HotCG (wedding) bomb. I succeeded but also kind of not? XD

Could You Imagine?: “Imagination is wish fulfillment. What are some of the things Pearl has imagined?” Now We’re Only Falling Apart

Partake In New Extraordinary And Pleasing Pizza Lover Experiences (Or: Kiki's Lament): “Kiki rarely hates her job. But she does hate pineapples.” What’s Your Problem? (Also the title spells PINEAPPLE o.o)

Acquired Taste: “Steven has a snack as he helps prepare for an important ceremony.” The Question

My Whole Life: “Some people are just born to go into certain careers.” Made of Honor

We Can Think About Hope: Incomplete multi-chapter with no hope of completion (why it’s not listed in the multi-chapters, BTW... also the “kind of not” regarding success); “What's going on? What do we do now? Can you still hear me? (Or: The end of Reunited plays out differently.) (Or or: And He Doesn't Wake: Part II: This time with weirder angst! And more not waking!)”

Citrusella's "Steven Corruption Theory" Collection: A collection of fics written on the corruption theory premise before it became canon. It’s Okay to Need Help not duplicated here but would be at the end.

Change: “Steven's come back from probably the most serious thing that's happened to him--save almost dying after his gem was ripped out--but that doesn't mean he came back unchanged. (Based on the "corrupted Steven theory".)”

My Skin: “Steven does a mental inventory of what's changed about him since his uncorruption and finds himself starting to fall into a hole of self-criticism, until a song playing downstairs sets him straight. (Based on the "corrupted Steven theory".)”

Eternity in a Moment: “It had only taken a few hours, and yet, an eternity.”

I Can't Say with Confidence: “Over an hour. He's been sitting in the tub, fully clothed, the bathroom a mess… for over an hour.It should be working! Why isn’t it working?!” Based on this art!

It’s Okay to Need Help

Happy Steven's Day!: Just after Steven discovers his mother is Pink Diamond, Mother's Day rolls around...Greg just doesn't want Steven to be in a slump about it anymore.

You Deserve All the Joy: “Because nothing is better than being surrounded by family and love. Or: Steven's once-a-year struggle with a holiday he doesn't exactly have the ability to traditionally celebrate.” It’s Mother’s Day and Steven is sad. Post-ASPR

Universe Day: “"Being your dad is the only present I really need." Or: Greg and Steven talk and realize their experiences with Mother's Day have been two sides of the same coin.” Post-SUF

Citrusella's Comfortember 2020 Fics: Fics written based on prompts for November 2020 Comfortember... not finished with it

Speed Bump: “Steven's first night on the open road isn't as smooth as he wanted it to be. Attempt to combine prompts 2-6 of Comfortember (prompt 1 just couldn't be squeezed in): "first day/night", "nightmare", anxiety", "cuddling", "afraid to sleep"”

In the After: “Steven wonders if it was corruption. Comfortember days 7-10, though only in the most tenuous, technical sense (and by that I mean all four phrases are mentioned): "blanket fort", "lashing out", "confession", "crying"”

Late Night Hot Chocolate (described in next section)

Zombie Club Chronicles: Steven endures a violent accident on Frightnight (Halloween) that changes his life forever.

Beach City Zombie Club

Prompt: [Randomly roll from list: Steven] doesn’t enjoy the Halloween season, but [Fill in: Steven] take(s) them on a well-meaning trip to an old Gem Ruin where they come to realize [Pick from list: They’ve made a terrible mistake in coming here]

On Frightnight when he is 17, Steven experiences the most serious event of his young life. Almost exactly a year later, Steven takes Steven to Lars' ship in hopes of being able to hop off at a truly secluded gem ruin to talk about something that Steven and Steven have been disagreeing on for several months. Lars has an idea, and Steven comes to a realization.

For the Cluster Spooky Writing Challenge!

Late Night Hot Chocolate (also a Comfortember fic)

"Steven? What are you doing?" He stares into the pot.

The gem half's voice comes monotone. "Making hot chocolate."

"It's three o'clock in the morning. Why on earth are you making… hot chocolate?"

The slyness on his face is one pixel away from nonexistent and yet it's practically a traffic cone to his other half, as he remarks flatly, "Because I've lost control of my life."

Or: Steven and Steven both have nightmares that threaten to take them back to... that night... One copes by making the other hot chocolate and pretending he really isn't having any problems.

Comfortember days 16-18: Protective, Flashbacks, Hot Cocoa

Standalone oneshots (reverse chronological order--newest to oldest):

Rumble Strips:

Prompt: [Randomly roll from list: Greg] notices [Fill in: Steven] is in a somber mood lately. Out of the goodness of their heart they try to cheer up the sad soul in the only way they know how: [Fill in: WHO WANTS TO GO ON A ROAD TRIP?!]

"I really thought I could handle myself on my own." He scoffed. "Even my own therapist didn't think I could do it."

"I bet she thought you could handle yourself just fine. She probably just thought you'd do better with your support system close, bud. Like, literally, I mean." His eye weaved through the thin line of gravel past the edge of the shoulder. "You started saying some pretty concerning things."

Or: Greg and Steven stop on the side of the interstate on their way to Empire City for New Year's, to have a conversation.

For the Cluster Christmas Writing Challenge!

Auto-Injector: “In an alternate timeline, Steven meets Bluebird at her welcome party but he cannot, under any circumstances, try her hors-d'oeuvres. Or: Steven ends up with allergies because why not” (I have three more ideas for chapters)

Don't Put Beans Up Your Nose: “"I know you want answers, and I wish I had some for you, really, Steven, but from what you've described…  those aren't things to play around with. It's unethical to knowingly subject you to those for the sake of 'experimenting', even if you consent." Or: Steven asks Dr. Maheswaran a question she's not ethically able to answer.”

The Exor-schist:

Prompt: A series of events have led to a terrifying effect on one or more of the series’ characters. [Randomly roll from list: Mr. and Dr. Maheswaran] are now suffering from [Randomly roll from list: Spiritual Possession]. How did this happen?

"This corrupted gem, it has a powerful connection to organic matter. Ones this powerful have been known to overtake and even kill humans."

For the Cluster Spooky Writing Challenge!

It's My Party and I'll Dry If I Want To: “You would dry too, if it happened to you! Or: Steven says he wants a pool party for his eighteenth birthday in Delmarva, after over a year of traveling the country. ...But why isn't he swimming?”

Ace Up Your Sleeve: “Or in your back pocket, same diff. Or: Steven's sad about potentially not getting to go to Pride.” (oneshot and an epilogue)

Milestone: “"Okay, so like, the books aren't, like, useless, but they assume you have like the perfect baby. Maybe consider the following: kids are dorks, man." Or: Steven went to the doctor. Once. Or: Greg thinks Steven, at 15 months, is being weird and missing milestones and is worried he's a bad dad so he goes to Vidalia for help.” May eventually be part of a babby Steeb over the years collection

Full Enclosure: “What am I going to tell you? You're better off not knowing the trouble I'm in. / I don't want you to worry about what I've just seen, about where I've just been. / You don't have to be a part of this, I don't think I want you to be! / You don't need this, you don't need me... Or: Steven defines himself by his connection to others. So when they all leave, then… he's no one. (In short: Steven is crushed by his need to be needed.)”

Vice: “He could stop whenever he wanted to. He just didn't want to. Or: Steven falls into a bad habit and tries to rationalize it as okay as long as he's not completely abandoning the idea of improving his life.”

Stairwell Solitude: “Over ten years, Greg wrote just six letters to his parents. What could they have contained?” Post-Mr. Universe

Striations: “At Connie's behest, Dr. Maheswaran makes a house call to Steven's place after his un-monstering. It's different than his last appointment, but its core is the same.”

Everything Stays: “Ever so slightly, daily and nightly, in little ways, when everything stays... Steven's therapist brings up something she's noticed about him outside his PTSD.”

I Do It For Me: “"Forgiveness is the intentional and voluntary process by which a victim undergoes a change in feelings and attitude regarding an offense, and overcomes negative emotions such as resentment and vengeance." Steven asks his therapist a question. The answer may surprise him.”

A Break in the Case: “Dr. Maheswaran takes a look at Steven's results but quickly finds herself in over her head.” Mid-Growing Pains

I have a couple entries in the @connieswap omake collection (Comic Relief and Same Old Steven)--I’m not linking them

Changing Tastes: “ Steven and Connie share a conversation after watching Crying Breakfast Friends: Under the Butterknife.”

Rejuvenated Regrets: “Someone calls Steven's name from downstairs. He's not listening closely enough to know who it is. He's not sure he cares right this moment. He wants Mom—Rose—Pink—and that's the one person he knows it's not.”

Gut Feeling: “Every time, he has to push his brain off that train of thought--what if she does it again?--but for someone with super-strength, he's surprisingly not very good at pushing.”

Lapis Watches Titanic (1997) ...There’s no summary

The Cluster Halloween Exquisite Corpse 2019 (I only wrote part of this!!): “Lars tells a horror story but loses track of it, or; a bunch of fic writers do an exquisite corpse and hilarity ensues. Written by DocCairo, citrusella, E350, love-killed-the-superstar and br42.”

Drift Away: “There are timelines where Steven fell into the biopoison when the Earth cracked under his feet. Here we see three times Steven (technically) lived despite a dive into pure poison, and one time he didn't.”

The Rose Wilts: “Once upon a time, he knew Rose. But he knew he didn't know everything.Sometimes it feels like he's learned more about her after she died than he ever knew while she was alive.“ Doug and Rose used to be friends

Tying the Knot: “Steven never wears shoes with laces, because he can't tie them. When Connie finds out, he's pretty chill about it.”

Haploid: “You're not sure if this is what being shattered feels like. You don't know if you want to be sure.” Mid-CYM

Thestral: “"How many have you seen?" "All of them." She answered without hesitation. "Oh." Or: Pearl and Steven talk about a type of gem that corruption has given some... special characteristics.”

500 Words a Secret Santa Gift: The Gratuitous Reference: “200 words a day, every day, until Under the Knife comes back. Or Crying Breakfast Friends. We're not picky at this point. Secret Santa edition! (A Secret Santa gift for @e350tb that deliberately and gratuitously references their 100 Words a Day series.)”

Sesimorp, Sesimorp: “A Lapis Lazuli makes a beautiful work of art.”

Ship Talk: “Lars and Steven share a moment on the Sun Incinerator.”

No Way Around It: “An order is an order.”

Give It A Try!: “Steven gets a Diamond to try something new.”

Better Off: “Peedee ponders what could have been.”

Steven x A Nice Calm Life Please and Thank You™: A Case for the Realization of a Bold New Ship: “Steven deserves a happy life free of interplanetary struggle and strife. It's my OTP. So I'm going to give him that! :D”

I Don't Know: “Will this ever make sense? Will this ever feel normal?” Post-ASPR

Force of Nature: “Her diamond gave her orders no longer.”

My Gemmortal (by XXXbloodstoneshardz666XXX): “the escupaids fo steven hardlight amnesia lion universe and his freinds n crushs” (this is exactly what it sounds like)

The Picture of Steven Pink: “It took a lot out of him.” (SU but Steven takes on the injuries he heals)

Self: “In the Connie Swap AU, Steven considers his identity and place in his family, community, culture, and himself. For a kid who at least tries to be all sunshine and rainbows, this isn't exactly the most fun thing to do, but sometimes it's necessary.” (these are different than the things in the CS omake collection)

I Really AM My Mom...: “"When you're singing, you want to use enough air that you could blow a throatful of peanut butter clear across the room." The crackiest of escape-from-Homeworld plots, based on a ClickHole article and a joke headcanon.”

Left: “Of course there's shame in bailing.”

Old shames (chronological order): Stories I just kinda cringe at now

Shrinking Rose: “Steven never felt bad about his stature. Until he did.” (I just don’t love it)

A Rose for Emily: “What if Rose wanted to spend the rest of her life with someone before Greg? ...It's safe to say she has a skeleton in her closet.” (less old shame than the others on this list but was hard to shoehorn in the A Rose for Emily style writing)

Alone: “Steven won't open up about how everything that happened is affecting him. Not even to himself.” (I know I’ve written other dark stuff but this one just hits different)

You Should've Asked Me, I'm Really Good at Naming Bands (November 2019 Unfinished WIPs): “(title subject to change) I did a challenge that I had to write my WIPs in November (revised to November and December) or be forced to post them unfinished. I got some updates done, but several not done. These are those stories. Dun-dun.” (only “shame” because they were things that were never finished--I also had a Connie Swap omake I was supposed to finish or the punishment was not to post it unfinished but to write Steven and Spinel (NOTP) but I just never did that)

#steven universe #steven universe future #steven universe fanfic #steven universe fanfiction #su fanfiction #su fanfic #long post #(it should be considering there are 78 FICS IN HERE) #THIS POST IS ITSELF THE SIZE OF A FANFIC #(68 fics not 78)

[savannah-lim]

Sink Your Teeth In || Savannah & Carrington

Timing: Current Location: Teeth Parties: @savannah-lim and @carringtonblackwood Content: Just vampire shit Summary: Savannah goes exploring in dangerous places again.  

Savannah’s ex-wife had been a huge Dracula fan. She’d even taken her to Whitby on their honeymoon so they could sit on the very bench Bram Stoker had once occupied. This town reminded her of Whitby, in some ways. It was a seaside town, although in New England rather than England itself, and it had a fascinating obsession with the Macabre. Recently, Savannah had started to figure out that there was a pretty good reason for that.

She wandered through the area she'd come to learn was (affectionately?) nicknamed Freak Alley, looking for somewhere to have a drink. She was sure someone online had told her to stay out of these kinds of places, but curiosity was her best friend and biggest enemy, so she walked right in, heading into what she assumed was a goth or punk themed bar called 'Teeth'. 

People looked at her a little strangely as she walked in. Maybe she wasn’t dressed appropriately. “Sorry, I forgot my black leather jacket and velvet top hat,” she said to one particularly gawpy patron as she took a seat at the bar, then she turned to the bartender. “Hi, I’ll have a Gin and Tonic.”

Carrington was having… A Night. Whether it was getting better or worse was still up for debate. Five of his six current clients had called that afternoon to cancel their appraisal walk-throughs, Walter - the fucking ungrateful, orchid-ruining excuse for an oversized Venus fly-trap - had nearly taken his hand off when Carrington had fed the vampire watermelon his biweekly meal. And to top it all off, someone had scratched his Aston. Which would cost an arm and both legs to have fixed. So Carrington was in dire need of a distraction. 

Which ‘Teeth’ was more than happy to provide. Carrington was currently enjoying a very good buzz - thanks to a bottle or two of top-shelf fae blood - when something… unusual yet strangely familiar caught his attention. As well as the attention of every other vampire in the room. There was a human sitting at the bar. A human that wasn’t an employee, and therefore not under the owner’s protection. So it didn’t take long for the vultures to start circling. 

The woman’s scent finally registered with his intoxicated brain about the time he finished his drink. “Oh, for fuck’s sake…” Tomorrow's headline was already flashing through his mind: FBI Agent Orders Gin and Tonic in Local Bar, Gets Exsanguination Instead. Of all the fucking nights…

“Hello again,” he said, slipping up beside her and ordering another bottle of blood. “How’ve you been? And why, might I ask, are you all alone in a place like this?” 

Savannah had felt several dozen eyes on her. Eyes she had chosen to ignore. The bartender looked at her like she was crazy, but shuffled off to fulfil her order. She looked at the menu on the wall behind him. None of these seemed like normal drinks. Maybe they all just had fancy names. A shiver passed down her spine as someone brushed past her in the crowd, a sixth sense she couldn’t quite explain. But when someone took the seat next to her, Savannah was relieved to see it was someone who wasn’t a stranger.

She paid and tipped the bartender as he returned with her drink. “Carrington, hello.” Nobody was looking at him strangely in spite of him wearing regular clothes as well. Perhaps she was missing something. “I’m well, thanks.” She took a sip of her drink. “A place like this? Just because I’m not covered head to toe in tattoos with painted black fingernails, doesn’t mean I can’t find these sorts of places charming,” she teased, giving him a small grin. “But you can fix the ‘alone’ part if you want.” She cocked her head at him. “Did you just order blood? Was I supposed to use a code word or something, you know, to blend in?” 

“That’s good to hear.” He eyed her curiously. The first time they’d met, Carrington had been absolutely certain she knew shit-all about… well… anything to do with the supernatural. It was why he’d compelled her to forget what she’d seen that night. Though things could and did change quite quickly in this town. Perhaps Savannah was one of them. Either way, Carrington’s curiosity was piqued. 

He returned her grin with one of his own, one side of his mouth slowly lifting as he realized she was serious. And if one were observant enough, they might notice that Carrington sported a set of rather sharp canines behind his lopsided smile. He likely couldn’t have put them away if he’d tried, considering his current state. But oh well. In for a penny and all that. 

“Oh, I think you’ll find the charm goes much, much deeper than just the aesthetic…” Her casual invitation earned her another slow grin. “I think I can handle that.” The asked after drink came a moment later, and Carrington’s fingers paused against the bottle. He glanced at her, trying to decide how to answer in a way that wouldn’t send her running for the hills. Finally, he settled for the truth. She was here wasn’t she? “Yes.” The word was said with a slow, almost lazy candor as he lifted the bottle to his lips. “And no. But... if you wish to blend in…” There were still several sets of eyes on them as his arm slipped idly across the back of her chair. “I could show you how.

Savannah hadn’t even finished her first drink yet, but it was clear Carrington had already had a few. She decided to drink quickly in order to catch up. She had a feeling this was going to be an interesting night. “Fae Blood,” she read from the label. “Well, that’s not very nice.” Savannah waved the bartender down, much to his irritation, and ordered a second gin and tonic and a whiskey on the rocks. “Seems I have some catching up to do.” She finished her first drink almost in one long gulp, eyeing Carrington with curiosity. 

“You’re being strange,” she said, but her tone was one of interest and intrigue. She swore she could see the strange shape of his teeth beneath the dim lights. “Blending in, how?” she asked, curious to know what he’d be showing her. “I’d like to find out.” 

Carrington was well into his cups. Which explained why he didn’t bat an eye as she read the label on his bottle, other than to give her another playful smirk. “Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it. Besides…” He leaned towards her and pointed to a tiny bit of writing on the label. “‘No Fae were harmed in the making of this willingly-donated, generously compensated, and promise-free product.’” As if that should explain everything. And maybe it did. 

“By all means.” He watched her down her drink, raising an impressed eyebrow. The sweet smell of whiskey drifted towards him, and Carrington ordered one for himself, with a shot of A-negative. “Am I?” he asked. Her continued acquiescence was slightly surprising, but Carrington didn’t mind. Not one bit. “By doing what every other human that comes into a vampire bar comes there to do…” He gave her another curious, crooked smile, eyes slightly hooded as the implications of what he was suggesting - along with his sharply pointed teeth -  made themselves unmistakably clear. “And I’d be more than happy to oblige.” His fingers drifted up her arm to ghost over the line of her neck. “Do you trust me?”

Savannah had to be dreaming. This whole thing was almost as beyond belief as everything else she’d seen in White Crest so far. The idea of a vampire bar wasn’t strange. What was strange was that he should be so brazen about it, that he should be so open, even clearly a few drinks deep. “Why would I possibly want to try that?” she asked. She wasn’t a vampire, so she could only imagine it would taste awful. “I have my own.” She downed her whiskey and lifted the second gin and tonic. This would catch up with her soon. Maybe once it did, this would feel less bizarre. 

“How forward,” she snickered, almost a little embarrassed that this situation was - dare she say it - kind of hot. A therapist would have had a field day with that. “I’m not sure I’m drunk enough yet,” she said, her breath hitching in her throat a little turning her words into something of a sigh. “But you can show me around while I get there.” She leaned into him, whispering. “And no. I don’t trust anyone. But that doesn’t mean I won’t do something foolish.”

Carrington had no reason to hide what he was. Not here. Though his track record of making good choices when partaking of fae blood - he usually avoided it for a reason - wasn’t very good. Outside these walls, however, his identity was no one’s business but his own. And a very few trusted individuals. He opened his mouth to tell Savannah that the comment had been… well, somewhat rhetorical, but his attention quickly slipped to watching the line of her throat as she downed her drinks. 

“You asked,” he grinned, letting his fingers play over the slope of her shoulder. The way her breath hitched made Carrington’s fangs ache ever so slightly, but he was more than happy to grant the request to show her around. Before he could start what would hopefully be a very short tour on the way to something far more entertaining, she was suddenly very close. Again, she managed to surprise him with her answer, and again, Carrington didn’t question it. Instead, he laughed, the sound a low, genuinely pleased hum as he turned his head to whisper, “Good girl…” into her ear. He didn’t elaborate on which of her comments he was alluding to (it was both, actually), but pulled her and onto the first leg of the grand tour. 

A good bit later, Carrington’s head lolled towards Savannah. “Are we there yet?” he asked, grinning drunkenly, fangs on full display at this point. “Or well… are you there yet? I was there… oh-” He held up two fingers for her to see. “- three drinks ago.” 

Savannah swallowed. This was bizarre in a way that somehow made sense. It would have been beyond belief if not for the fact that it was so sensible and obvious. Savannah had no scepticism left in her. Carrington wasn’t trying to hide anything. He wasn’t a stranger trying to lure her backstage. She quivered, almost embarrassed as he whispered the words in her ear. 

She decided to see where this went, no commitment one way or the other. She explored with him, danced with him, had a few more drinks with him, and gave a low laugh when he finally asked the question. “I think I’m getting there.” She swung on his arm a little as they danced, twisting herself into his arms. “Tell me something,” she said, figuring now was her best chance to get some honesty out of him. “What do you think would have happened if you hadn’t found me at the bar?” she asked. In spite of being pleasantly drunk now, her curiosity hadn’t shut off. Savannah turned back to him, hands on his shoulders. 

“Can you be gentle? Can your friends?” she used the word loosely. There were several humans in the bar. Savannah could see that now. She’d passed the human blood bags and the fang bangers that were either paid to be here or came for their own thrill and enjoyment. They seemed to be having fun, but Savannah didn’t doubt there was a seedier underbelly to all this. Accidents happened. 

Her shiver didn’t escape his notice, but Carrington simply tucked that particular tidbit away for later. After that the evening was a blur. A pleasant one, if a bit strange. But only strange because he couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t have to hide a part of himself from a human acquaintance. Whether out of fear of losing a friend, or fear for his own safety. Neither of those things had even crossed his mind this evening. Savannah was… taking it all in stride. Without any evidence of a nervous breakdown in the near future. 

So, as was the theme of the evening, Carrington didn’t question it. He simply endeavoured to take things as they came for once. Her laughter vibrated against his chest as she spun around, and he let his other hand slide around her waist, holding her against him as they danced. “Excellent…” he smiled against her ear before letting his lips drop lightly to her shoulder. He stayed there as they danced, enjoying her warmth and her scent along with his own pleasantly drunken state. “Anything…” he murmured to her query. Though when it came, the question wasn’t quite what he expected. Nonetheless, the evening had thus far thrived on honesty, and Carrington was loath to change that. 

“Perhaps nothing,” he told her quietly. “Or perhaps someone would’ve fed on you. Without your consent. Or worse.” 

Her next question didn’t have a black and white answer. She’d seen the varying degrees of human/vampire interaction around the bar. Though some things weren’t meant for public display. How could she not be curious? “In general? Yes,” he said, and meant it. “We’re all capable of being gentle. We’re not much different than humans in that sense. Some good, some bad. Most somewhere in between. ” 

Carrington dipped his head towards her shoulder again. “As for myself… I’m always gentle…” His lips - along with a barely there, feather-light hint of fangs - brushed her skin as he smiled lazily. “Unless you ask me not to be...” 

Savannah's next shudder wasn't so pleasant. Fed on. Or worse. Those certainly weren't the most desirable of outcomes. "Well, thanks for coming to my rescue," Savannah teased, her words dripping with irony. She remained close to Carrington, paying specific attention to his lack of heartbeat. His body was a little warm, perhaps from the bottles of blood he'd been drinking like light beers. If she hadn't already known already, she wouldn't have guessed he was a vampire. She'd have to get smarter about that. 

She exhaled, continuing to casually dance with him as he explained his species to her, at least in the vaguest of ways. She'd try and find out more later, she was sure, once she wasn't so very distracted by the feeling of his skin on hers and how good he smelled. "Good to know," she murmured against his jawline as he promised to be gentle. She swallowed the lump in her throat as his teeth scraped against the shell of her ear.

Fuck. She was an idiot.

"Then I guess we'd better go back to your place." 

#paras #with: carrington

[amydancepants-peralta]

one love, one house (no shirt, no blouse)

Oh hi again, @kamekamelea!  Being the glutton for punishment that I am, I bring you a 2nd fic for the B99 2019 Fall Fic Exchange, by @b99fandomevents.  

This is one is rated E, and is NSFW.  🙊

(It’s also a little long ... you could say I got carried away.  It’s on AO3 if you prefer) 😅

one love, one house (no shirt, no blouse)

From the safety of her bed, a fourteen weeks pregnant Amy Santiago listens to the rustle of fallen leaves on the street below as the wind outside begins to pick up.  The sound mingles with hints of laughter as a group of women vacate the Thai restaurant across the road; twisting with their neighbour two floors up as they adhered to their nightly violin practice schedule.  There is a crossword puzzle in her hands, clutched mainly in aid of distraction, but she hasn’t been able to concentrate on the words for close to an hour now.

She listens as their front door opens, the familiar jingle of her husband’s keys dropping into the bowl by the door, landing on top of her own.  He calls out her name as he passes through the living room, and when she calls back Amy can hear the hesitation in her voice, cringing at the sound.  

Jake smiles when he sees her, because he always does and it makes her love him all the more, leaning in for a quick kiss while she stays laying on the bed.  She can taste a familiar trace of a bottle of Heisler, remnants of after work drinks with Boyle, and she smiles at him when he pulls away, hand resting briefly against his chest before dropping back to the comforter with a thud.  Today had been her day off, and she had played the growing a tiny human card earlier this morning when Jake had gotten up for work, smiling and burrowing further into their ridiculously warm comforter when he had kissed her on the forehead before leaving.  Even with the texts they’d sent each other throughout the day, and all the swirling thoughts in her head, Amy could feel herself resetting now that he was back in front of her.  

He’s moved to the shower now, a tuneless rendition of a Taylor Swift song carrying through the walls of their apartment, and distractedly she hums along to the melody. 

The wind outside builds, curtains dancing against the force of the breeze as the streetlights leak into their bedroom, causing Jake’s badge to glint from where it sits in its usual place on their dresser.  He’d noticed her melancholic silence as he’d prepared for his shower, and she knew that he was giving her the space she needed.  But now the taps in their bathroom were being shut off, and Amy was very conscious that it wouldn’t be long before he’d be back, prepped and ready to listen.  If only she could figure out what to say.

Her eyes fall on the polaroid of the two of them that had been sitting on their dresser for years now: a candid of the two of them one year in, at a party thrown by Mike, Jake’s old buddy from his days at the academy.  He’d captured them mid-laugh, Amy’s arm resting comfortably around Jake’s neck as she grins; Jake’s already snaked around her waist, scarcely any space between them.  They were drunk, happy, and completely in love, and Mike had grabbed a marker and written ‘this is for good’ along the bottom of the photograph before handing it over to them with a wink.  The smile Jake had given her that evening, as he tucked the photo safely away into his jacket, had pushed her heart into double time.  He’d placed it carefully up against the mirror that very evening, before returning to her side to peel off the dress the way he’d been whispering the whole night, and Amy knew that Mike was absolutely correct.  This was for good.  For better, for worse.  No matter what.

To think that it had been over four years since that evening, and that they still looked at each other  the way they did in that photograph, filled her with such happiness that for a moment Amy felt ridiculous for feeling the way she did.  But pregnancy, she was learning, came with a whole typhoon’s worth of emotions, and some were harder to ignore than others.

She gives Jake a sympathetic wrinkle of her nose as he walks back into their bedroom, the fatigue of the day obvious in the drop of his shoulders.  His face is partially hidden behind a towel as he rubs it through his wet hair one last time, and once free he glances over at her with a pensive gaze.  Without thinking, Amy grabs the edges of the sweater she was wearing and tugs it downwards.  He notices, brows furrowing as he tosses the towel into the laundry hamper in the corner, and she feels a pang of guilt run through her.  

Changing the topic, Amy puts on her best smile.  “Long day at work?”

He rolls his eyes as the memory flashes back.  “You could say that.  Remember that collar I was telling you about a few weeks ago - the serial car thief?”

She nods, eyes turning curious.

“He’d made bail, and his court session was today.”

“Okay?”

“Terry and I were waiting out front for our coffees, and he rolled up to the courthouse while we were there.  In another stolen car.”

“ ….  wow.  You really can’t fix stupid.”

Jake sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose - an old habit she knew he used to remind himself to breathe through his frustrations.  “So not only did I have to sit through his hearing, I then had to take him back down to the precinct so that I could book him for additional acts of crime he’d committed while on bail.  Only to then escort him back to the watch house, because he was most definitely found guilty of his previous charges.”

Amy pouts her lower lip in sympathy, using the restless energy in her hands to twirl her hair around her index finger.  “Did he even have an excuse for the second stolen car?”

He smiles, shaking his head in disbelief as he repeats the sentence he’d heard earlier that day.  “Apparently his ‘real’ car had broken down, and he knew it super important to make it to court if he didn’t want to get into more trouble.”  He raises his fingers for air quotations.  “So, he had ‘borrowed’ another car, a block from his house.  He was, and I quote - ‘Totes gonna give it back, bro.’  An honest thief, if you will.”

“Ha.  That’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one.”

“Yeah, an oxymaroon for sure,” he mispronounces the word, and Amy finds it too endearing to correct.  Choosing instead to fall silent, hair twisting tighter around several of her fingers now, it only takes another moment before Jake has stopped at the end of their bed.  

“What’s going on, Ames?”

Amy wriggles her body on the mattress, resisting the urge to pull on the edge of the sweater again as she looks up at Jake.  She can feel her cheeks heat up under his gaze, and she gives a helpless shrug.  Using the nickname she and her husband had named their baby, she mumbles - “Peanut kinda popped a little today.”

His eyebrows jump at her answer, face brightening at the mention of their growing family.  The excitement that crosses his face every time they speak about their baby is incredibly endearing, and makes Amy feel all the more ridiculous for what she’s about to say.

“She popped?” Jake repeats, mattress dipping slightly as he sits along the edge of her side of the bed.

“He or she popped,” she corrects with a smile.  They didn’t know the sex of their baby, and were keeping it a surprise, but they’d only been seven weeks in when her husband had declared with Absolute Certainty that they were having a girl.  The countdown on her phone told her that today made fourteen weeks, and with that came a bump on her previously (relatively) flat stomach.

Amy had stood in front of their floor length mirror earlier that evening, the sweater she had long since stolen from her husband’s drawer rucked up around chest, eyes narrowing as they roamed the expanse of her body, pausing again and again on the swell of her abdomen.  There was a definite curve to her stomach, a swelling similar to when Jake had won a pizza eating contest at their favourite local restaurant, gripping his prized red hoodie against his bloated belly with one hand and her hand in his other as they’d walked home, moaning as she reminded him of the need to walk off the overload of carbs he’d just consumed.

None of it should have come at any surprise - the Week Fourteen tab in the Second Trimester Binder had warned her several days ago, in fact, that protrusions would start to become obvious as her inner muscles began to stretch to accommodate her and Jake’s baby.   But it turned out that all the preparation in the world couldn’t account for seeing it all happen in real time - and if she was being completely honest with herself, Amy was having a little difficultly in accepting the change.

All rules of science aside, it truly was a little miracle that her body was capable of doing this - of creating life - and part of her is torn between the idea of pressing fast forward so that she and Jake can meet their child sooner rather than later, or pressing pause and having the chance to really treasure these moments.  But the memory of Gina at her baby shower, resplendent in her position of front and centre, her stomach stretched beyond watermelon size as Milton dutifully rubbed her back, keeps flashing into Amy’s mind.  It seems almost impossible, but she supposes it is actually inevitable, that her body will change just as much.  

Jake’s hand falls to the other side of her on the bed, the stretch of his arm highlighting the subtle curve of his bicep as it peeked out from his grey bed-shirt.  His concern at her silence was obvious, and Amy gives him a tiny smile, running a quick debate in her mind over whether she should tell him what was really on her mind.  It’s over in a flash, because if there’s anything she’s sure of, it’s that there is nothing that she can’t tell him, and there was a good chance he already knew.  He had grown incredibly intuitive to her thoughts over their years together, a skill that both frustrated her and made her love him all the more.  She raises her left hand, running her fingers along the arm that stayed relaxed against his side, smile growing larger as he shifts until their fingers link together.

 “It’s just …”  his brown eyes take on that doe-eyed look that never fails to weaken all her defences, and just like that, Amy says how she really feels.  “My body is changing, and I don’t feel like myself.”  

He blinks.  “I mean, I know I’m the least science-y one in this relationship, but I feel like we kinda knew that was going to happen?”

Amy begins to chew on her bottom lip slightly.  “Yeah.  It’s all tracking perfectly with the timeline I put together.  I’m a little ahead of things, actually.”

“Santiago style.” He responds with a wink before turning serious.  “But … you’re not enjoying it?”

She shakes her head.  “It’s not that.  I love that I’m carrying our baby, Jake.  Honestly, I’m so, so excited to meet our little one.  I just …” her hand releases his, resting against her bump instead.   “I wasn’t expecting to feel this way.  Like I’m changing, and there’s nothing I can do about it.  For the first time ever, I can’t control what my body is doing.”  Her voice drops to a mumble, eyes squeezing shut.  “And maybe you’re not going to find me attractive as everything keeps growing.”

Her confession is met with silence, and reluctantly Amy opens one eye, looking up at Jake.  He meets her eyes with a confused blink, bending his elbow as he leans in closer.

“Here’s the thing, Ames - and I will tell you this as many times as you need to hear it, for however long you need to hear it, and I’m so sorry that you’ve ever had to doubt this.  But I fell in love with you for who you are, and not the body you’re in.”  

Amy releases a breath that she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, eyes turning misty as she listens to Jake talk.  

“You are the love of my life, Amy Santiago, and it is entirely because of the beautiful soul you have.  And let me tell you - I am always, always going to find you amazing.  No matter what.  And you are literally the sexiest person I’ve ever met.  Your incredible mind, and ever-growing heart, make you this unstoppable force that never fails to make my brain short-circuit.  And the fact that you are now carrying my child?”  He pauses, shifting until his left hand is resting on top of hers, covering her bump.  “Oh my god.  Just … your body is magic, you are magic, and I’m still stunned, after all this time, that you chose me.”

She blinks, the tears beginning to fall, their path shortened by Jake’s gentle hand wiping them away.  Resting her hand along the curve of his neck, Amy pulls her husband closer, meeting his lips with her own as she tries to pour all the gratitude she has for him into one kiss.  It’s not enough, because one kiss could never be enough to show it all, and he leans closer again as they meet for another, lips parting for more.  

The fading taste of the Heisler, mixed with the usual scent of his shower gel, was proving to be strangely intoxicating and Amy moves her hand up towards his hairline, carding through while her grip tightens, pulling Jake closer.  He lets out a contented sigh into her mouth, moving closer until his arms are underneath and he’s holding her close. 

His eyes are cloudy when they finally pull apart, blinking in a daze, and Amy smiles in satisfaction.  Even after thousands of kisses, she still managed to send him crazy, and she knows that what he said earlier was true.  Jake as going to love her, no matter what - just as she would love him, through the darkest of skies.  What they had was a forever kind of love.  

Hooking her finger into the neckline of his shirt, Amy tugs until he shifts, mattress sinking as his legs end up on either side of hers, muscles flexing as his lowers to his knees. 

Jake dips, shoulder blades raising as he tucks his head underneath her sweater; a move that he has done a thousand times and still doesn’t fail to make Amy giggle, and she drops her right hand to the bump that his head has created.  His warm breath tickles her skin as he drops kisses to her ribs, the muffled sound of an approving sigh breaking through as he realises she is not wearing a bra.  His hands grip the edge of the sweater as he pulls his head back upwards, Amy’s hand tracing the edge of his jawline as his grinning face becomes visible, so full of affection that her heart just might combust.   

“I love you so much, Jake Peralta.”  Her voice is shaky, the hormones still heavy if not a little quieter, and he blinks slowly before pulling her in for another kiss.  When he finally pulls way, he shifts the bottom of her sweater, pushing it upwards until it rests around her ribcage, her skin shivering slightly from the exposure to the cool night air.  He shuffles down the bed, resting his body weight on his hands as his legs rest against Amy’s, and her hand resets itself to his hairline, the familiar feeling of his curls agains her fingers making her sigh with comfort.

His lips travel up her torso, ever so gentle over the subtle bump, and when he reaches the peak he pauses, looking up at Amy with an indescribable look in his eyes. 

The hand in his hair stops, holding still within the coils as she looks back at him, holding his gaze before breaking the silence.  “Babe?” 

He smiles, a sign of reassurance she holds more valuable than most peoples words, and shakes his head slightly.  “Nothing. Just ...” he drops another kiss to her belly.  “Wow.”

Wow. 

Amy smiles back, the pride and elation obvious as her hand moves through his locks again.  Wow indeed.  This incredible man, with messy hair and earnest eyes and the biggest heart she’s ever known, is the father of her child.  Suddenly, all of her concerns didn’t seem so big.  “Look what we made, Jake.  You and I, our love ... we did that.” 

He winks.  “I remember.”

She can feel her face heat up as the blush reaches the tip of her ears, but still she laughs, tipping her head up to meet Jake as he pushes himself towards her, lips meeting hers for a kiss.  It was incredible, the way he threw away all of her fears so easily.  One touch from him, and all of her self-consciousness faded away.  Jake adored her, more than she had ever known to be, and as his hands drop to her waist and reach for the hem of the sweater she lifts her arms up, helping him pull the material away, doing the same with his until there’s nothing in between them.  The swell of her abdomen is more obvious now that there isn’t fabric covering it, but there is enough love shining in his eyes to banish all other thoughts.  

She’s reminded of a night not so long ago when all the schedules and planners and binders had begun to consume Amy, and Jake’s initiation of cuddling on the couch had been met with a distracted point of her fingers towards her meticulously printed out ovulation schedule.  

He’d let out a sigh, nuzzling into her neck and whispering that sometimes sex was just about pleasure, and not procreation (and damn it, he knew that using the proper term was going to send her crazy), before grabbing her notepad and casting it to the side, picking her up and carrying her willingly and giggly into their bedroom.

That night he went down on her for the better part of an hour, pushing her so close to the edge over and over that by the time she finally came undone, her fingers had clawed their bedsheets clear from the mattress.  He absorbed her moans with a kiss that was so full of passion that she felt weak in the knees, the taste of her and him mixing together into the most intoxicating blend.

She had been too exhausted to repay the favour that evening; spaghetti legs stuck to the mattress, but if the sound of her name echoing off the tiles is anything to go by, the blow job she gave him in the shower the next morning well and truly made up for it.  

He had been so insistent on keeping things romantic as they tried to conceive - all the while knowing that the sweetest things were what he was already doing - ie., following her perfectly planned timetable.  Still, he stocked up on candles and body oil, curating SexyTime playlists on his already busy workdays and giving her sympathetic smiles when she would dejectedly add tampons to their shopping list.  And then, one afternoon on the cool tiles of their bathroom floor with nine differently branded pregnancy tests surrounding them, Jake and Amy found out they were having a baby.  And everything since then had been surrounded by excitement, anticipation and curiosity.  

And perhaps, a little trepidation.  He could tell now, before anything had to be said, and he stared into her eyes (into her soul, it felt) before trailing a line of feather-light kisses down her neck, the tip of his nose skirting along the swollen curves of her breasts before heading down towards her edge of her yoga pants.  Dropping gentle kisses to the curve of her abdomen, Jake looked up at her, those chocolate eyes sending her heart into overdrive as she lifted her hips in silent permission, smiling as he peeled away her final layers of clothing.  

Amy had read in various books, and on the occasional website support group, that sex in the second trimester was nothing short of amazing.  

She had been dubious, to say the least.  For the first three months, she had felt anything but sexy.  While a bizarre cocktail of emotions and hormones and thoughts were running through her body, if Amy wasn’t running to the bathroom to throw up, she was thinking about when she could take her next nap.  It had been an interesting beginning to her pregnancy, and while she and Jake hadn’t been celibate the entire trimester, their times together had definitely become less frequent.

Fellow pregnant women, all in various stages of gestation, had raved about how good sex was once you got over the first hump (so to speak).  That everything was working double time down there, that the nerves were on full alert 24/7, and that multiple orgasms were not uncommon.  

This all sounded incredibly appealing to Amy, but if you’d asked her earlier that evening, she probably would have given you a firm shake of her head.  But as she lay on their bed, exposed and yet feeling so protected all the same, Amy realised just how much she had missed these moments.  And perhaps it was the comfort of her husband’s words, or the familiarity of his touch that had flicked her inner switch from normal to horny in 2.5 seconds - whatever it was, she was here for it, and when Jake began a line of kisses along her inner thighs, she could feel it all over her body.  

His caresses move to her centre as her hand travels down, rubbing herself briefly before moving into Jake’s hair and he takes her lead, stroking his tongue against her clit in an achingly slow circle.  Amy moans, bucking her hips towards his mouth, tightening her grip around his strands in reprimand.  He pulls away slightly to look up at Amy, lips tainted with her arousal, and smiles as he slides two fingers deep inside.  

Her head tips back, hair splaying around the pillow as she lets out a satisfied sigh.  Jake knew how to use his fingers so effectively on her, bending knuckles and twisting wrists at just the right moment, that sometimes she finds it insane that they worked together for so many years without her ever knowing just how well he would be able to make her scream.  Whether it was skill, or a mixture of knowing that it’s him and how he makes her feel didn’t matter.  This wasn’t going to take her long, and Amy wanted more, and now.

She moves her hand from his hairline, trailing the pad of her thumb along his profile until her hand is free, crooking her finger towards him in a silent request he is only incredibly willing to honour.  Elbows digging into the mattress as he leans forward, Amy pulls Jake in for a kiss before reaching her left hand for his right, tugging until his fingers are in her mouth.  Her tongue wraps itself around his digits, sucking gently, smiling around his hand as she tastes herself on Jake’s fingers.

He looks at her with such fire in his eyes that Amy can feel the burning within, head dipping down to leave a kiss against her wedding band before pulling his hand free from her mouth and kissing her, hot and deep.  Goosebumps rise onto her skin when he wraps his arms around her, twisting on the mattress until Amy is on top, her hair falling down over their faces as their tongues continue to explore each other’s mouths.      

They’re both breathless when she pulls away, kissing the tip of Jake’s nose with a wink as she shuffles down his body, holding herself deliberately close to his chest until she reaches his boxers.  Fingers toying with the waistband Amy looks up at her husband, his neck craning off the pillow, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, and she smiles as she shifts to the side, pulling the shorts down until his erection springs free.  His legs kick slightly underneath her, shimmying the fabric off completely and her hand moves to grip him, pumping her wrist once or twice before he’s reaching for her waist.

Jake’s fingers dig into her lower back as she allows herself to be pulled forward, and he mumbles “I need to taste more of you,” before encouraging Amy to lower herself completely over his face.  

And OH.

Mother of ALL THAT IS HOLY.

The books were not wrong.  

Amy had already been turned on from Jake’s actions a couple of minutes earlier, but with a single flick of his tongue against her clit her head is thrown back, hair tickling her spine as she lets out a satisfied moan.  She could feel her blood rushing downwards, nerves dialling up to a thousand as he begins tracing patterns against her, alternating between gentle and dominant, and her hips swivel as she leans her hands onto the mattress behind them.  

It wasn’t going to be long - she could feel everything inside her beginning to tingle - and with a heady mind Amy reaches her left hand further back until she’s gripping Jake’s dick in her hand, starting a slow pump from this unfamiliar angle, and the responding moan that comes from his mouth vibrates directly into her.  

His hands hold her thighs steady as Amy begins to gyrate against Jake’s mouth, verbalising her satisfaction in a garbled series of nonsensical words and gasps, her grip tightening before letting go completely as she climaxes.  She stays put for a moment, ribs expanding with each desperate gasp of air, and as she pulls herself back up into a sitting position against Jake’s chest she lets out one final gratified sigh.  

“My god you’re hot,” Jake whispers, hands trailing up and down her waist, and Amy smiles back.

Leaning forwards, she rests one hand along his neck before closing the gap with a kiss.  “I love you so much, Jake Peralta.”  His hand mirrors hers, thumb caressing her jawline as he kisses her back, humming happily against her lips.  

Her legs are beginning to feel weak as the rush of blood slows, and Amy rests her body against the comforter, pulling Jake towards her as she moves.  The weight of him on top of her is comfortable, a welcome warmth from the breeze still blowing through the open window to their right, and he pulls away from another kiss to whisper her name as his legs slide against hers.

It was becoming obvious to Amy how insane she had been to ever doubt the pregnancy books (honestly, why did she ever doubt books?), because the simple act of laying underneath Jake was turning her on all over again.  His cock is hard, pressing up against her aroused clit as he holds her close, trailing kisses up and down her neck the way he likes to in the lead up to the fun stuff, and the subtle movement of Jake’s body against hers was rubbing her in all the right ways.  All she needed was the tiniest of adjustments on her end, tilting her hips just so, and -

She lets out a strangled moan into Jake’s ear, fingers gripping his strands of hair as her body trembles beneath him with orgasm number two.  His breath is hot on her neck as he pulls away slightly, looking down at his wife with an incredulous look on his face.

“Did you just …?”

Her heart is racing and her brow may just be a little sweaty, but Amy nods quickly.  

Jake glances down at where there bodies aren’t yet joined before returning to her face, hips flexing above her as his erection brushes along the tip of her clit again.  Amy’s body jerks in reaction, and he grins.  “But we haven’t even … I mean, I wasn’t trying to - ”

Letting out a quick huff of air, Amy moves her hand to the back of Jake’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss he’s not soon to forget.  “Don’t even think about stopping now, Peralta.”

He smiles, and it’s so sexy it hurts, and already she can feel herself gearing up for another O.  This is amazing.  “Wouldn’t dream of it, Santiago.” he growls into her ear, dropping slightly to gather her wetness around his erection before sliding in, the feeling of him inside her so hot and hard and it’s only been a week or so but oh, how she has missed this.

There’s a persistent tap of water against their window as the rain starts to pour down, the cool air from the still open frame washing over their bodies as Jake and Amy work to create their own heat.  A tiny shiver runs along Amy’s arms and Jake pulls her closer, her legs wrapping around his waist as he begins to move.  He’d been so attentive throughout it all, giving extra focus to the chapters of each book that spoke on sex during pregnancy and checking with her whenever things started to get heated.   Each time had been just that little bit different, her body changing on a weekly basis, and the feeling of him inside of her now, his stomach brushing up against her slightly swollen belly, the life they created together between them was new and exciting and sexy.  

His thrusts are slow to begin, pushing himself in and out of her in even strokes that he replicates with his kiss.  He’s giving her a chance to come down from her climax, she realises, his eyes watching her carefully as he raises himself above her ever so slightly.  And she loves him for it, that he’s still so considerate of her needs despite her orgasm count being two against his zero, but she wants him to feel as incredible as she does, so her legs tighten their grip around him, a non-verbal sign that she knew he would take as a plead for more.

She remembers the very first night they spent together, kisses tasting like kamikaze as Jake’s sheets tangled around their feet.  It had felt so right - like two puzzle pieces who had finally found their other halves - and even though part of her hadn’t been ready to admit it yet, Amy knew that night.  That her and Jake had something, a pull towards each other that was stronger than anything she had ever known.  It’s never faded, and tonight in their bedroom as he rolls their still connected bodies until Amy is on top, she knows that it never will.  

Her hands rest against his chest as she sinks down lower still, taking him in completely as they each let out a soft moan.  Jake moves his hands from her upper thighs to her waist, thumbs rubbing against her skin as they travel up towards her breasts, toying with her nipples as Amy lets out an appreciative groan.  They had become so sensitive in the last couple of weeks, almost to the point where she couldn’t stand the thought of anyone or anything touching them, but it turned out she had just been needing Jake’s hands against her.  Her clit, already throbbing with sensitivity from her previous orgasms, rubbed against Jake’s cock as she began to lift her hips, picking up a rhythm both could enjoy.

The two of them had always fit together so well, but tonight Amy felt so full - so complete, with their baby safely tucked away in her womb - and as she looked down at Jake’s face she knew he was feeling it too.  

His hips thrust upwards to meet hers with every movement and Amy rotates hers from side to side in response, biting her lip with a poorly contained grin when Jake’s responding moan echoes through their bedroom.  Her fingertips dig into his skin when she begins to bear down, already feeling another climax isn’t far away, scraping along his chest while Jake whispers her name repeatedly.  

The reverence in his tone, combined with the heated gaze he was giving her, is enough to send Amy over the edge again, leaning down to place her forehead against his as the sensations became too much.  He cranes his neck upwards to dot her face with kisses, so quick but so tender, and as she comes down from the high Amy pulls back again, draping her hair over one shoulder as she looks down at her husband.  

Later, when they’re catching their breath, Jake will tell Amy that the sight of her riding him, the swell of her growing abdomen glistening with their combined sweat, was one of the sexiest things he’d seen in a long time.  One for the memory bank, he’ll say.  But for now, all Amy can go on is the feeling of Jake’s hard cock inside her, how complete she feels, and how she’s climaxed three times and is ready to feel Jake let go as well.  

Her knees draw closer to his waist as she tightens her thighs around Jake’s pelvis, drawing on all her reserved energy as she increases her pace.  “Come for me, Jake.  I wanna feel you, babe.”

His hands dig into her thighs on either side, a mixed-up version of words and moans the only thing falling from his mouth as Amy pushes harder, slamming down on his cock as her body flutters around him.  One hand snakes around to rest against her clit, thumb rubbing in meaningless circles and - here comes number four - she clenches her muscles around him, pulling him under as he comes with a shout, Amy only a short second behind him as his thumb finally gives her reprieve.

Sheer exhaustion forces Amy to collapse against her husband’s chest, unfocused eyes staring dazedly at the still billowing curtains as her entire body begins to throb.  That had been next level kind of stuff, and if this was what pregnant sex was going to be like, she was absolutely going to have to do that again.  And soon.    

Jake’s voice vibrates through his chest, one hand coming to rest in her hair.  “Holy …” 

Amy’s cheek slides against his pectoral muscles as she smiles, breath still coming out in slow pants as her body twitches further down.  “You said it.”

He chuckles underneath her, other hand resting against her bare butt and squeezing.  “Just when I thought that life with you couldn’t get any more amazing.”

Her responding laugh is breathy and warm against his chest, body shivering slightly as the cool breeze outside picks up now that the rain has subsided.  Without hesitation Jake reaches for the edge of the comforter, lifting as much as he can without disturbing their still joined bodies, throwing the blanket over Amy.  Her head tucks back into his chest, dropping tiny kisses of gratitude against his skin, lips picking up the still racing thump thump thump of his heart.  

They’re silent for the moment, both of them basking in their combined state of bliss, until Jake clears his throat.

“I promise you, Ames.  If you ever start to worry about losing control over how your body looks, or you think that maybe I won’t find you attractive, you can talk to me.  I am here for you, no matter what.  And I am so excited for this future we’ve built for ourselves.  Our family is going to be the best in the neighbourhood - and our kids are going to beat every other kid’s butts.”

Moving her arm until it’s resting underneath her chin, Amy props her head up slightly to meet Jake’s gaze.  That all sounded kind of amazing … but more than one child hadn’t really been discussed any more than the occasional passing comment.  “Kids plural, huh?”

He shrugs slightly, face turning slightly red as a sheepish smile crosses his face.  “I mean, maybe?”

The smile that has yet to leave her face grows wider, and she cocks her head to the side.  “How about we get through this one first, and then talk about the others?”

His responding nod is enthusiastic, drawing a laugh deep from Amy’s chest, and he sweeps a stray strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.  “Absolutely.  But I should warn you, I do have one fairly convincing argument up my sleeve.”

The competitive edge in her sparks at the words, and she raises one eyebrow in response.  “Is that so?”

He winks, pulling her impossibly closer before replying.  “More than one pregnancy means more chances for us to have more of this crazy, mind-blowing kind of sex.”

Her laughter is captured up in his kiss when Jake pulls her closer, hands moving to rest against her waist to keep her warm and sheltered from the cooling breeze.  She leans back slightly to look over him when they finally break away, head shaking incredulously.  “I may live to regret this, but I’ve gotta say, I’m pretty sure you just convinced me on baby number 2.”

Jake’s face breaks out into a grin, raising his eyebrows when Amy continues.

“But also, I’m going to need more members on my team.  So that we can really kick your ass when it comes to heist time, Peralta.”

The last thing Amy hears is Jake mumbling “Game on, Santiago” before he’s pulling her in for a toe-curling kind of kiss, the embers of her arousal beginning to spark all over again.

Whether they ended up with five children or just the one, their home would be one filled with love, because that was what she and Jake had in spades.  And in all honesty, Amy couldn’t wait to see what their future held.  

#mine #myfic #b99fandomevents #b99 fall 2019 fic exchange #smutfic #Kasia I hope you like this one! #it's long I'm sorry #title of your sextape #peraltiago smut #b99 fanfic #b99fics #b99 fanfics #Jake x Amy fic

[neo-culture-taste]

Loosen Your Tie, Doyoung

Genre: AU, college, frat life, comedy, romance

Pairing: Doyoung X Fem (w/ the lovely appearance of fuccboi Yuta)

Rating: M for language, suggestive themes

Word Count: 9100+

Summary: He was an uptight nerd that just wanted to relax after taking his exams, but the universe had something more eventful planned for this particular evening.

Masterlist in blog description @neo-culture-taste.

Author’s note: A year ago Nctzens were given the gift that was NCT 2018 and with that gift came Doyoung’s teaser photo with him donning a blazer and tie. That one photo caused my creative juices to flow and thus this oneshot was born—an entire year ago. So a whole year later and a few tweaks here it is. Enjoy! - C

P.S - my imagination was running rampant when I first wrote this so 🤷🏽‍♀ 

“You have five minutes left.”

He flinched at the sudden tickle of the proctor’s words against his skin as he whispered into his ear. Doyoung absentmindedly nodded in agreement forcing down a scowl at the interruption of re-re-re-reviewing his physics based calculus midterm exam for the fourth time.

He absolutely hated computer-based exams. He had written several letters to the head of the physics department pleading that they change their decision on computer-based tests, citing that difficult mathematical exams of this magnitude would be more beneficial if the professors were present for any questions the student(s) may have. Not to mention the wrong numerical typo could be the decision between an A or D, and unfortunately Doyoung had witnessed that first hand amongst he and his classmates. It was a depressing sight to see aspiring engineers momentarily yanking their hairs out in fear of failing an exam thanks to one little, measly typo.

At first his letters fell on deaf ears until he became a class representative for his major on the student council. He was tired of seeing his classmates struggle and tired of having to visit his professor after each exam on the basis of a typo in order to raise his 93% A to a 100% A+. The department heads had no choice but to listen to the pleas of both Doyoung and his fellow students after a lengthy, yet informative presentation to the entire department.

After reaching the final question on what would be his last computer based physics exam of the semester, Doyoung took a deep breath and hovered the mouse over the submit button. The computer would automatically score his test once the time went down whether he was ready to see his grade or not; so deciding to bite the bullet, he closed his eyes and hit submit only waiting a few seconds before opening his eyes.

A beautiful 15 out of 15, 100% A+ graced the liquid crystal display, and a large smile fanned over Doyoung’s face as he released the breath he didn’t know he was holding. Unfortunately, the wretched garlic breath of the proctor finally infiltrated his senses despite occurring five minutes prior. That was just how focused he was.

Doyoung exited the exam’s browser and reached for his backpack underneath his chair, careful not to disturb the other students. With a bounce in his step he made way for the quad, stopping momentarily to do a celebratory twirl in the middle of the hallway and then popping in his earbuds. He had aced all of his midterms and could finally relax and take full advantage of a well-deserved break.

The sun was shining as brightly as ever casting shadows on students spread throughout the quad. Some were furiously doing last minute cramming, while others cried oceans of tears over their unsuccessful attempts at cramming, and others mirrored Doyoung and radiated the same exam-passing glow.

Feeling starved after supplying the neurons in his brain with enough glucose to ace his exam, Doyoung decided to make a quick turnaround in the quad and head towards the dining hall. Upon entering the cafeteria, he swiped his meal card before quickly reveling in the realization that today was Pizza Friday.

He grabbed a plate from the counter and loaded it with four slices of pizza before moving to the fruit counter to grab some watermelon. Once he was finished, he noticed that his favorite booth in the back corner of the dining hall was free, prompting him to maneuver his way towards it. He carefully placed his plates on the table and threw his backpack in the other side of the booth before realizing he was missing a nice, cold beverage to accompany his lunch.

He made his way to the drink counter which was only a couple feet away, filling two plastic cups with soda so he didn’t have to get up and get more later. Once finished, he made way toward his booth, the music in his ears keeping him walking at a steady beat, but also prompting him to do another victory spin.

However, his twirl unfortunately did not come to completion because he felt the sudden collision of his hands against another object. Despite the heavy base rippling through his ear canal, he heard the spine-chilling shriek erupting from the human body directly in front of him; the contents of both his glasses inappropriately bathing the front of her blouse. He quickly popped out the ear buds form his ears, a flurry of apologies falling from his lips--some coherent and some barely even a language.

He looked down at the ruined white blouse before him in dismay. The palms of the soda soaked girl were turned upward as if she had absolutely no idea how to move on from this situation that could have been avoided. And the longer she stood in front of Doyoung, the quicker the liquid spread across her blouse, finding a comfortable fiber to soak into all while revealing a baby blue lace tank top underneath that clung to the curvature of her bosom. To make matters worse, the liquid had trickled down the front of her skirt and down her legs, causing Doyoung to give her an unintentional once over. Once his eyes returned upward, she served him expressions of both shock and lividness to say the least.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you-“ He said quickly setting down his now empty glasses in order to grab napkins to help her. With a bit too much force, she yanked the napkins from his hands and began aggressively patting her chest. He felt bad. But not bad enough to dampen his post test high. Ain’t nobody would be fucking with his post test high. “I can go ask for a towel-“

“Ew. A dirty dishrag? Don’t worry about it. I live in the dorm next door. But watch where you’re twirling next time, you fake ass ballerina.” The girl abruptly threw her damp napkins on the table, her neck tinged with a rosy shade from anger and embarrassment before quickly scurrying away.

Doyoung hung his head low and turned back to his table picking up the wet napkins in disgust, as she had thrown them on his Friday pizza and watermelon.  It was an accident for goodness sake, but she didn’t have to be so rude about it either, Doyoung thought. He tried to apologize! And that was one of the reasons why he kept to himself most times and disliked significant amounts of human interaction. Someone was always bound to piss him off.

"If you're just going to sit there and mean mug your plate, then why not give me what's on it.”

Speaking of someone always pissing him off, Doyoung looked up from the table as he was pulled away from glaring at his pizza by the voice of the ultimate pain in the ass of his life: Nakamoto Yuta.

“Shake it off, bro. A little wet pepperoni never killed anybody,” said Yuta has he grabbed a slice of pizza from Doyoung’s plate and shook it from side to side before sitting across from him. Yuta was one of Doyoung’s few close friends and the use of the word “friend” to describe Yuta was oftentimes inaccurate.

Continuing to munch on Doyoung’s pizza, he chuckled. “I saw what happened, dude. Smooth move! When I suggested you should get a girl wet after midterms I didn’t mean like that.” Yuta was the last person Doyoung wanted to see his blunder with the opposite sex. Whenever hilarious, embarrassing, or social status dampening events occurred, Yuta was like the appointed historian to always make people remember times they wished hadn’t even occurred.

Doyoung sent Yuta a death glare but it only resulted in more loud chuckling from his friend. It really was times like these that Doyoung questioned why he had continued to keep Yuta around after entering university. He didn’t take his studies seriously like Doyoung, despite being at the university on a soccer scholarship where he needed to keep his marks up. He also had proved to be unreliable, as on countless occasions he flaked on hanging out because he said he “needed to give thanks to mother nature for the cosmic gift she had bestowed upon man in the form of female orgasms” through numerous trysts with the university’s cheerleaders. One would assume that someone who only wanted to climb the social ladder, attend the best college parties, and drink until he was ass-backwards or passed out (if it was the off season) would have already left a hardworking nerd, who desperately wanted to become an engineer. Alas...he didn’t. The two of them were like night and day, yet they just couldn’t be one without the other.

Despite being a huge nuisance to his nerves, Yuta did however possess the minimal characteristics of what Doyoung would qualify the use of the “friend” title. Sometimes. He was an asshole but he was an asshole that looked out for Doyoung and was always there to lend a helping hand, albeit it oftentimes led to more harm than good whenever Yuta inserted himself in a situation. But his intentions were in the right place and the situations would eventually work themselves out. All in all, there was some use to keeping Yuta around. And it wasn't all one big headache. They had fun a lot of the time, too.

Defeated, Doyoung picked up one of his slices that hadn’t been tormented by the wet paper. “Why are you here, Yuta? Shouldn’t you still be in a midterm or something?”

Yuta sighed. “I just finished up, actually. It was an oral final, but it didn’t last that long.” He shrugged his shoulders with disinterest.

“You waited until the last minute to come up with what you were going to say, didn’t you?” questioned Doyoung innocently wiping some pizza sauce from the corner of his mouth.

Yuta cocked his head to the side and looked at Doyoung somewhat disappointedly. “No, no. I went prepared. I could have tongued a few more sentences if she would have let me. But she grabbed the back of my hair too roughly, and then she came all over my tongue, but was too stimulated to con-“

Doyoung choked for obvious reason. “Yuta!” He reached for one of his glasses only to realize it was empty and quickly remembered the accident with the girl that had happened a few minutes prior.

“What?” asked Yuta nonchalantly.

“I’m eating! And it’s pizza day!” He was accustomed to his friend being lewd at all hours of the day and normally it wouldn't phase him, but he had been caught off guard this time.

“And I got an A! What’s the problem?!” Yuta reached in his backpack for his water bottle and tossed it towards Doyoung who was still coughing over loose pizza crust.

Taking a long ass swig, Doyoung gave Yuta a pointed look before harshly whispering. “You had relations with your professor?! Do you know how much trouble you would be in with the university if anyone found out? Not to mention you would probably get kicked off the team and consequently kicked out of school!”

Yuta did a dramatic neck and eye roll at his friend across the table. “Sometimes...I want to twist the stick that’s shoved so far up your ass and make you mellow out.”

“You and everyone else,” muttered Doyoung as he stared incredulously at the idiot.

“I’m in college, dude,” continued Yuta. “I’m allowed to fuck up.  And if you must know I did do my presentation in class and earned my A the right way. I just…had more things to say that wasn’t able to fit within the time limit. And I had already requested an appointment for office hours beforehand and this chemistry had been brewing between us since the beginning of the semester. So one thing led to another and--“

“Yuta, fuck off,” said Doyoung, his tolerance wearing thin. “Between you and that girl I just ran into, the both of you have tried my patience today. I aced all my midterms and I just want to be left alone to recuperate.”

“Now you know how I feel having a friend that only wants to study all day! You’re always so serious. Once we graduate you will regret not having as much or more fun as I’m having. You need to loosen your tie, Doyoung, and liiiive~. The books will always be there but your youth won’t. Get this pussy now and get the money later!"

Now it was Doyoung's turn to cock his head to the side as he absentmindedly forked his watermelon. “Do you ever think about what you say before you say it, Yuta? Do you ever realize what kind of idiotic logic you’re spewing?”

“It’s not idiotic. It’s fact. Now moving on to the real reason I interrupted your lonely ass pizza day.” He shoved a neon green flyer adorned with terrible font towards Doyoung’s side of the table. “I’m throwing my first official party tonight at the frat house. You had been ignoring my texts all week because you were studying or whatever it is you do when you read a book and make flashcards. So now I’m reminding you in the flesh. I’m treating this party as if it is my first kid. If it’s successful, I know I can bang out a few more. So I need you to come out and support me like the true friend I know that you are.” Yuta batted his eyelashes at Doyoung who merely pushed his plate away, his appetite clearly vanishing.

“Yuta, I hate parties and all that encompasses them. And as a true friend you would already know this.” He slid the flyer back towards Yuta and reached for his backpack.

“Doyoung, please. You haven’t been to a party in the three years that we’ve been here and you literally have nothing exciting planned for tonight, and I know because you're you and you never really do anything besides…doing nothing.”

Doyoung scoffed and stood up, partly because he was annoyed and partly because Yuta was correct with his assumption. He was indeed going home to do nothing exciting in particular, but at least he wouldn’t be surrounded by wasted young adults who just wanted to fuck each other and adults that couldn’t take the hint and graduate already because they were scared of adult responsibilities.

“C’mon, dude!” Yuta stood up to stand eye level with his basic ass friend. “I really need you to be there.”

“Why?”

Yuta ran his hands down his face before calmly placing his hands on his hips. “The only way I can strip this one girl and bathe in her cosmic essence—with her permission of course—is if you come to the party and…y’know, hang out with her friend. Who, by the way, thinks you’re really attractive for some reason. I think she likes the way your tie is tightly wound around your neck like it’s choking you, but you find a way to sexily breathe through it. And that any minute you’ll rip it off and bind her wrists or blindfold her or some shit. I don't know. Girls are weird. But she likes you, man! She just wants to make sure your stuck up façade and actual personality aren’t synonymous. And if you don’t hit it off with her, there will be plenty of other girls you can-- ”

“No, Yuta. I will not babysit your potential fuck’s bestie so she can relieve her kinky fantasies and gossip to her friends saying, ‘Girls, he may look like a cute little bunny, but he fucks like a wild tiger that was just begging to be tamed.’” Yuta scrunched up his nose at the high pitched voice Doyoung put on to mimic a girl, and also because he had a hard time comprehending why Doyoung would compare himself to a giant jungle cat in bed. “Nor will I accidentally wind up in some room with some cute girl only to find out she was using me to make her jock boyfriend jealous.”

“DUDE, THAT WAS FIVE YEARS AGO IN HIGH SCHOOL!” Yuta exclaimed, exasperated that his friend was still bitter after all this time. “You gotta let that shit go! I told you not to go upstairs with her. And we need to revisit how you think you’re good in bed when you’ve only slept with like, one person.”

“No, Yuta. Leave me alone. Have fun at your party.” Doyoung curtly walked off and left Yuta standing there at the booth with his flyer crumpled angrily in his fist.

I’m not that stuck up, am I?, thought Doyoung as he left his friend in the dining hall. But he shrugged away the notion and continued to walk toward his apartment.

~~~

The cacophonous soundtrack that played on Doyoung’s laptop signaled yet another end credit scene for one of his favorite tv shows that he promised he would binge after midterms. More like the show was watching him as Doyoung had long casted aside his laptop and curled into the fetal position, sleep having grabbed him no more than ten minutes after he had returned to his apartment. His roommate, Winwin, hadn’t been home, serving as the perfect time to just relax alone.

The only thing that had managed to break him from his snooze cruise was the blatant disrespect of his cell phone ringing obnoxiously loud next to his ear. He quickly stirred and sat up looking at his phone in disgust as the words YUTA YUTA YUTA flashed across the screen. He begrudgingly answered deciding to be rude and not even say hello.

“Hello? Hello?” Asked Yuta whose voice was a bit drowned out thanks to the blaring EDM in the background. “Doyoung?!”

“Yuta! I didn’t change my mind about coming to the party!” Yelled Doyoung because he was pissed off and cranky.

“I know! But Winwin, ugh! Some clown from that BBX frat dared Winwin to keg stand and now your poor roommate is drunk off his mother fucking rocker! I told him not to do it, but he acted like he had something to prove and now he’s shitfaced, dude.”

Doyoung slapped his face and dragged his hand downward. “So, what are you asking me, Yuta? You’re his friend too and more than capable of-”

“Oh, shit! Winwin, that’s fucking disgusting!” Cried Yuta and interrupting Doyoung. “Quick, Kun, let’s take him to the bathroom. Here, Lucas. Talk to Doyoung.”

Doyoung heard the rustling of the phone being passed around through the receiver before a gruff voice spoke. “Hey, man! I’m sad you’re not here but I shall pour you one in your honor...and then not drink it because Taeyong won’t let me.”

“Thanks, Lucas. And you’re under the legal age to drink anyway.”

“Yeah but, I wanna keg stand, too!”

The thought of lil’ baby Lucas acting a fool and puking his brains out like the rest of his friends moved Doyoung enough to decide and go save his roommate. “It’s not worth it, dude. Tell Yuta I’m on my way.” He jumped from his bed and grabbed his keys before heading to the EXT frat house.

The walk to the frat house from his apartment was about eight minutes and twenty seconds. A time Doyoung remembered from several nightly trips when Yuta actually had time for guys night or when he needed to be saved from a girl he decided he didn’t want to sleep with after sobering up. Doyoung was always his scapegoat.

Upon arriving at the frat house, Doyoung immediately noticed all the loitering bodies of drunk college kids on the front lawn. He had to maneuver through the small sea of plastic red cups and beer bottles littered across the walkway before stopping abruptly as some guy flew across the cobblestone pavement and ran into the plastic flamingo on the lawn. “DUDEEE THAT NOSEDIVE WAS SICKK!” was heard causing Doyoung to roll his eyes and quickly make his way into the frat house. The sooner he retrieved Winwin, the faster he’d return home and relax. Well, not really. Not if he had to babysit Winwin all night and make sure he didn’t swallow his vomit and choke.

Doyoung entered the frat house and immediately noticed Lucas standing across in the foyer. He wasn’t hard to miss as he was the tallest human standing in the area with all the other new frat recruits who were tiny compared to him.

Doyoung sauntered over to Lucas who gave him a big hug causing the other recruits to disperse. Although Doyoung wasn’t in the frat, Yuta knighted him an honorary member, meaning no one was allowed to mess with him, yet was allowed to give him special treatment. “Bro, you made it!”

Doyoung’s face morphed into a grimace after telling Lucas he had come to get Winwin. He began to ask what bathroom in that giant frat house had Yuta dragged him to but was cut off when two tall, beautiful young ladies interrupted their conversation.

“Hey, stud? What’s your name?” Asked one of the girls, one Doyoung recognized as being the star junior of the girl’s soccer team.

Lucas quickly looked toward Doyoung as if he needed confirmation of what his name was before turning back to the girls and blushing. “I’m 20.”

Doyoung immediately hung his head low and scratched his eyebrow, rapidly giving up on humanity. He didn’t have time for this awkward shit. He had come here for one reason and one reason only, and now he felt precious time slipping away from him as he stood there fooling around with Lucas. “They asked for your name…”

“Oh, uhh. Sorry.” Said the giant baby clearing his throat. “Lucas. My name is Lucas.”

“Aw, you’re so cute and funny.” Both girls closed the space between themselves and Lucas, causing Doyoung to roll is eyes and become even more annoyed. Like, hellloooo? Were they too entranced by Lucas’ pretty face to not see him standing there having a conversation with somebody?

“Let’s go somewhere and chat for a bit?” suggested the other girl.

Lucas laughed again before his “how to be a fuccboi manual by Yuta, illustrated by Taeyong” kicked in, causing his cute smile to quickly change into a sexy smolder. His voice dropped a couple of octaves lower, which Doyoung didn’t even think was possible. “How about I meet you guys out back on the patio? I have to show my loser friend here something first.” His comment made Doyoung roll his lips into a straight line in aggravation. He knew Lucas had only said that to seem as cool as he thought he was. It was classic textbook Yuta.

“He can come, too,” said the girl eyeing Doyoung up and down. “I like them stoicc.” The annunciation she put on the last syllable was hella thicc.

“I’m sorry, ladies I’m flattered, but I'm really not interested. I have more pressing matters to attend to. Lucas. Winwin, please,” Doyoung demanded to Lucas sternly.

The girls were taken aback by the unintended harshness of Doyoung’s tone and Lucas made up for it by kindly reminding them he’d meet them soon. He lead Doyoung to one of the corridors on the other side of the frat house. There were even more bodies in this area as the pool table and other assorted games were being drunkenly utilized.

As they approached some party goers playing darts and dodging the projectiles as to not be impaled by one, Doyoung heard Yuta’s thunderous guffaw before he even saw him. Brushing past Lucas while channeling on the cackle, Doyoung spotted Yuta and grabbed his shoulder to turn him around. Before he could speak, his attention was drawn to Winwin sitting on the couch across from him, his clothes in perfect place, hair nice, and not a sign of having emptied out his entire digestive system through his mouth. If anything, he would say his roommate was simply a little buzzed. Winwin noticed him staring incredulously and gave him a sheepish smile and a wave. Doyoung was livid.

“Oh, hey~, Doyoung!” A beer in his hand, Yuta stuck his neck out to look around at his perturbed friend and pointed an accusatory finger at Lucas. “Dammit, you! You were supposed to text me when he got here!”

“Sorry, I got distracted! But I’ll be in the backyard if you need me! Bye!” rushed Lucas ready to run off to his rendezvous but was called back by Yuta.

“Oh, bro! You got distracted by some hot girls, huh?!” The knowing grin on Yuta’s face grew twice its size when Lucas nodded in affirmation. “MAH, MAN!” He went in for a high five with the taller young man, but Doyoung blocked them from coming in contact with one another by violently slapping their arms down.

“Enough! ”After using eight minutes and twenty seconds of his precious life to walk over to that frat house for what had now made itself clear as complete bullshit, Doyoung needed to get something off his chest. “Yuta. Can I speak with you in priv--” he began, but he was cut off for the second time that night.

“No, man! No more talking!” Yuta grabbed two bottles of beer from the cooler near his feet and popped them open, the noise agitating Doyoung closer to the point of no return, and shoved both bottles in his hands. “So, Winwin isn’t shitfaced and I lied. You walked into that trap on your own.”

“Yeah, and Doyoung’s the smart one,” cackled Johnny, another one of his so-called friends. He was clearly drunk, so Doyoung spared him from a possible verbal beatdown.

“But you’re here now and that’s all that matters!” continued Yuta. “There’s unlimited drinks and unlimited girls--except this one. She’s mine.” He slithered his arm around the waist of his Friday date (who had a bigger bosom than last Tuesday’s date), who Doyoung assumed was the one who’s friend wanted some facetime with him.

Upon that realization, the gears in his brain quickly switched over to escape mode. His eyes quickly glanced around the room in a small panic that he immediately realized was futile considering he had no idea what the girl looked like. Now with the sudden shift of his objective, Doyoung's top priority was to get out of there before whoever she was entered within a ten foot radius of his person.

“So, go crazy and have some fun! I’m really glad that you’re here, dude.” Yuta raised his beer up, a sly and cheeky grin plastered on his visage that Doyoung desperately wanted to punch. “To Doyoung!”

The people around responded in unison as Yuta clanked his bottle with Doyoung’s, who simply stood there in a silent rage. The aspirated sounds of quenched thirsts emanating from everyone’s throats prompted Doyoung to turn on his heels and walk out the game area. Not only did Yuta forcibly drag him to participate in an event he was clearly against from the moment the flyer was shoved in his face, he used his roommate Winwin as bait. He made a mental note to not invite Winwin shopping the next time their apartment needed groceries as payback. He then made another mental note that he was trying to punish his roommate who wouldn’t ever hurt a fly, and that wasn't something he thought he was capable of doing (purposely passive aggressively hurting Winwin, that is), which caused him to make yet another note that Yuta needed to be unfriended.

“He really likes screwing with me. He should stop harping about being my friend if he can’t under-” Doyoung’s mutterings were cut short when he felt a familiar pillowy thud hit against the back of his palm causing both bottles of beer to fly upwards before shattering on the floor. Tuning out the people around him yelling that he had just committed a party foul, his instincts immediately prepared his lips for a second set of apologizes that day as he looked to see who he had run into. Upon realization, his mouth fell open in surprise and he soon felt the front of his blazer soaking with beer.

“Why does this keep happening to me?!” She screamed. Her palms faced upwards, stuck like they were earlier in the dining hall and her expression was just as dumbfounded. “This is the second time today. First it was the fake ass ballerina and now-” She lifted your head and scoffed in absolute disbelief and possibly even a hint of disdain. “Still the fake ass ballerina. I knew I shouldn't have come here tonight. Ugh! Do you have absolutely noth--HEY! Where are you going, asshole?!”

A little ticked off by her attitude, Doyoung held up a finger signaling her to wait and silently brushed past her to head towards the conveniently nearby supply closet. Despite not even being a member of the frat, this wasn’t the first time Doyoung had to fetch the broom and dustpan from this particular room. He had Yuta to thank for that incident as well.

When he returned to the girl, her body was still tense although she had lowered her hands to pull her soaked halter top away from the front side of her body. Her face was adorned with complete discomfort, however she stepped aside as she watched Doyoung sweep the shards of glass and scoop them up with the dustpan.

He stood in front of her and gazed at her pitiful form in exasperation. He took a deep breath before saying what he had to say. It took a lot of strength for him not to go completely off on an innocent bystander who unfortunately kept getting in his way.

“I’m sorry. Once again, I truly am sorry,” he stressed. “I was lost in my train of thought because of my dumbass friends. Because I, too, do not want to be here. I’m sorry I ruined your outfit again. Although it really isn’t appropriate for this weather, by the way. Especially now that your clothes are wet. But still, I am sorry.” He chucked the shards of glass into the also conveniently nearby trash bin before bending back down to pick up the last pieces.

The girl narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to the side in agitation. “Okay, but your apologies can’t magically dry the front of my shirt and shorts, and remove the awful stench of cheap ass beer. I look like I fucking pissed on myself upwards!” She wanted to cross her arms over her chest, but she would risk getting them sticky.

“That’s impossible,” said Doyoung matter of factly. Standing up again, he looked at her now as if she were incompetent before emptying more glass into the trash bin.

“DUDE, REALLLY?! Is that really what’s on your mind right now? The physical impossibility of me being able to pee upwards is what you’re worried about?!” Frustrated with her current situation, and apparently the world given her actions and word choice since the beginning of the day, she rubbed her hands against her face and slowly slid down the wall behind her.

Now, Doyung was a nice dude. Ladies--even ones outside of his family--found him to be a real gentleman...if you caught him on a good day. He could have very well informed the girl that the ground was still very much wet, but today wasn’t a very good day. Not anymore, at least. So, he didn’t. Instead he watched her slowly sink to her demise, the liquid quickly seeping into her shorts. Any moment now...3...2...1. “AW, FUCK! THE GROUND IS STILL WET! Why didn’t you say anything?!”

He returned the broom and the dustpan to the closet before addressing her question. “I didn’t feel like mopping.” He stated without any remorse. Her eyes almost bulged out her sockets at his response, so he immediately backtracked realizing he didn't mean to be that big of a dick. He wasn’t really a dick at all, actually. “Because I didn’t think you’d hear me over your incessant yelling--” Okay, maybe he was a dick.

“I’m not yelling. This is how I talk.” She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. “Now my ass is wet. And I reek of beer. I don’t even drink! Never even touched the stuff! This has been the worst day of my life. But I can’t leave because I promised to be a designated driver. And if I leave, what if I get stopped by the police?! ARE THEY GONNA BELIEVE THAT I’M SOBER?! I should be at home studying!” She threw her head against the wall and winced at the hard impact she didn't mean to make with it.

Doyoung’s feet made to leave, but his moral compass pointed towards the girl when the word “studying” tumbled from her lips. It was as if she had calmed some of his anger knowing she could be potentially studious as he was. He also sympathized with her on the fact that he too had been roped into being a designated driver countless times. Although, he never attended the parties. He would only show up when he thought his friends had had enough and throw them all into the backseat. Upon rethinking the situation, he made a decision to help the girl and bent down, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet.

“W-what are you doing?” The girl was a little shocked to say the least. His attitude had done a surprising 90 degrees. He was being gentlemanly, yes, but it was not a complete turn around. He was still tense, just not as much.

“Follow me.” He commenced to walk her hand in tow, but his pace was hindered by her hesitance.

“Where are we going?”

“To get you out of these wet clothes.” But before she could take it the wrong way and retort, he stopped walking and clarified. “Not like that. My asshole friends are inhabitants of this frat house. My clothes are damp as well and like you, I hate the feeling of wet clothing on my skin. We can grab a change of clothes and then we both can go our separate ways. Cool?”

Visibly relaxing after his explanation, she mulled it over, her tongue poking the inside of her cheek as she weighed the possible outcomes. “Fine. Lead the way.”

He lead her upstairs towards Yuta’s room, flicking the light upon entering the masculinely decorated room. He silently thanked his friend for not being a slob this weekend and not waiting forever to launder his soccer practice clothing that he usually just left on the floor to rot.

“Wait here,” said Doyoung dropping her hand. He quickly moved across the room towards Yuta’s black dresser, opening the first drawer a bit rougher than he intended and caused Yuta’s collection of bobbleheads to, well, bobble. The drawer contained an assortment of socks and underwear neither of which Doyoung needed, so he proceeded to the next row of drawers which contained athletic shorts and shirts.

He heard something ruffle against Yuta’s bed so he assumed it was the girl, his newfound companion who didn’t understand simple instructions of “wait here”. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw in annoyance, only to reopen his eyes and catch her form in the mirror. She apparently wasn't shy and wasted no time shedding off her sticky shirt. She discarded the wet material on the floor beside her feet and let out a deep sigh. Doyoung relaxed and continued to stand there admiring her reflected figure from behind. His eyes trailed from the top of her head to the strap of her baby blue bralette haphazardly falling down her shoulder, then to her lace trimmed jean shorts that had turned a darker hue (primarily on the curvature of her booty cheeks), which was entirely his fault. And in that moment, he could honestly say he was glad he didn’t tell her about the wet floor.

The motion of her reaching for her bra strap shook him from his reverie and he proceeded to grab two shirts and two shorts from the drawer. With his head hung low and eyes only focusing on the clothes, he turned around and extended a pair of clothes towards her. When she didn’t accept them, he noticed she was no longer standing there. “Hey. Where’d you go?”

He did a complete 180 degree turn and found her standing on the other side of Yuta’s room near his large armoire. “Oh. You move very quietly...umm I have dry cloth--NO DON’T OPEN THAT!”

His cry was too late as the girl had already opened the doors of the armoire and was already being showered with several boxes of condoms that had collapsed from the overstuffed piece of furniture. Before he could move to help her subdued form, he heard the door to Yuta’s room close shut and lock. He ran towards the wooden door and pounded on it, yelling in anger that his attempts to open the door from the inside were futile. “Hey! Open up!”

“No!” Screamed the terrible voice on the other side.

Doyoung dropped his hands from the doorknob knowing full well that no matter how much he retaliated he was not going to leave the room anytime soon. “Yuta...you asshole. Let us out. Right now. Open the damn door!” Doyoung’s chest ferociously rose and fell as his mind shrouded with rage.

“No, Dodo. I will not open the door. If you don’t want to mingle with us rowdy college kids, then mingle with the half naked girl you got in the room with you! Bye!” Doyoung heard footsteps and snickers trail away down the hallway.

He leaned his head on the door before remembering the ladder Yuta used to sneak in and out the frat house after hours. He ran towards the window and lifted it up happy to see the ladder right where he remembered it would be.

“What is going on?” the girl asked as she massaged her temples and continued to lay under the boxes of condoms.

“I’m going to get us out of here.” He kicked some boxes out of his way and grabbed her hand to pull her to her feet. So far their relationship with one another consisted of repeated actions and events. It was so unromantic it was lowkey romantic.

He gave her the set of clothes and motioned toward the closet and told her to quickly change. He discarded his blazer, shirt, and pants before sliding on the fresh pair of shorts. While deciding he could make do without taking off his tank top and tie he heard scraping outside against the wall.

“No, no, no.” He looked out the window only to find a drunk Johnny and Jaehyun trying to confiscate the ladder from the wall. “Stop!” He latched onto the ladder and tightened his grip as the pair pulled from the opposite end. Two against one was proving to be difficult as Doyoung’s waist was starting to go past the window sill, but he tried to maintain his grip as best as he could, hoping the drunks would give up soon.

“Hey these shorts have--OMG!” The girl had come out of the closet only to have to quickly run to the window and grab Doyoung’s waist so he wouldn’t fall forward and out the window. “Let go of the ladder! LET GO! LET GO! LET GO!”

“NO!”

“It’s not worth it!” She tugged him back harshly causing his grip to release from the ladder.

“Have fun Doyoung!” Yelled Johnny and Jaehyun as they hauled off with the ladder, laughing as they went.

“This is bullshit!” He closed the window and threw the dry T-shirt on the floor before he started pacing back and forth in the room. “That was our only way out! We’re going to be stuck here until Yuta decides he’s done playing this little game of his!”

The girl shifted and crossed her arms before speaking, “You have the biggest--“

“STICK UP MY ASS! YES, I KNOW.” He took a deep breath a little sorry she kept getting mixed up in all his shit. “I’m sorry—“

“Stop saying you’re sorry. It’s starting to sound weird coming from you.“ She placed her hand over your mouth to smother a laugh. “And that wasn't what I was going to say.”

“What?” He knitted his eyebrows and looked at her, only now noticing her bare legs peeking from under the hem of Yuta’s oversized T-shirt. Her baby blue undergarments showing underneath. “What is it?”

She picked up the shorts she had been given earlier. “I can’t wear these.” She handed them to Doyoung and stepped backwards meekly, trying to hold in her giggles.

“Why are you laughing?” He opened the shorts and noticed the big ass cut out hole on the crotch area before flinging them to the ground.  “Dammit, Yuta! I didn’t know--“ He looked down at the shorts he had changed into and noticed the giant whole in the middle of his crotch, showcasing his Scooby Doo boxers. He looked up and saw the girl keel over on Yuta’s bed in laughter. And despite the outrageous situation, he relished in defeat and succumbed to laughter himself.

Once the girl had adequate use of her lungs to breathe again she said, “I didn’t peg you for a cartoon guy. Your face screams you enjoy the five o’clock news and peer reviewed journals.”

He rolled his eyes and sat on Yuta’s bed as well as wiping the tears that had accumulated in his eyes. “They’re my lucky exam boxers.”

“So you wear them three times a week?”

“The stench holds the knowledge.”

“Gross! Guys are so weird,” she said before locating Yuta’s crotchless shorts from before and chucking them at him.

“No. Not all of us. I never liked that group assumption. Why do girls group all guys together? Some of us are cool!”

“You...cool?” He watched as she stood up from her kneeling position and removed his wet blazer and shorts from the floor before finding her own wet clothes. She went towards the closet and hung the clothes to dry. Doyoung watched her intently, his eyes admiring her backside once again. “You’ve been in a mood since we first bumped into each other. That’s not cool.”

“It’s the circumstance. I’m usually a nice guy. I just...today wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. I was supposed to finish my physics midterm, enjoy Pizza Friday, and then relax at home. Midterms were hard this semester. I deserved the break. I didn’t want to get dragged to a party and get stuck--“

“In here with me?” She walked across the room toward the several boxes of condoms still littered across the floor.

“I didn’t mean--“

“It’s okay. I didn’t think my day would end up like this either.” She bent down and absentmindedly picked up a half full box of condoms. “We can just sit here quietly and not talk to one another until Yuta let’s us out. Or we can talk about why Yuta has an armoire full of condoms that nearly ended my life.”

“Despite Yuta’s assholelery, he’s a big activist for safe sex. He lives with all these young and horny guys so he has to look out for their well-being. Whenever they need protection or stupid advice Yuta is who they run to. Plus, a frat with a reputation for STDs would be bad publicity.”

“Interesting,” she said simply. Doyoung watched curiously as she dug inside the box and pulled out a foil packet that she then proceeded to open with her teeth. “But how’d he get all of these boxes? He went on a condom shopping spree?” She blew air through the condom and tied a knot at the end before neatly placing it on the nearby desk.

“No.” Doyoung watched her tear open another packet and wanted to advise her that opening it that way could puncture and render its contents ineffective, but he stopped himself when he realized what she was up to. “Spring Break contest sophomore year. He had to lick whip cream off a girl’s body and eat a cherry out of her mouth within a time limit at a resort we went to. He won first place, which included a lifetime supply of condoms and 5000 dollars cash.”

“Wow.” She deadpanned.

Doyoung reached for a packet in the box she was holding and began blowing one up like she did earlier. He carefully placed his condom balloon in Yuta’s pencil holder, making sure it didn’t pop. “By the way, my name is Doyoung.” He extended his hand towards his fellow prisoner while reaching for another packet with the other. She stopped blowing her latex balloon to shake his hand. She told him her name in return.

~~~

After going through about four boxes with twelve packets each, both she and Doyoung had run out of air. He was still on a devious power high from semi-trashing Yuta’s room, so he was glad when she agreed to his suggestion of filling the condoms with water. After going through a box of thirty-two, the two of them finally decided to call it quits. Yuta’s drawers, closet, backpack, shelf, bathroom just about every surface of his room was covered in an assortment of either air or water filled latex balloons in various colors, shapes, sizes, and texture. It was a condom carnival.

She was reclined on Yuta’s bed, Doyoung having found her a blanket to cover herself with as Yuta’s questionable fashion sense was out of the question. “So why do you continue to hang out with him if he’s so troublesome?” she asked.

Doyoung took a moment to answer. “Because he’s the complete opposite of me. He’s the fun one and I’m…the not fun one.” Doyoung lowered his chin atop the desk chair he was sitting backwards on.

“Well, I think you’re sort of fun. I’ve only known you for…an hour and twenty-five minutes? Plus the five minutes in the dining hall this afternoon makes it an hour and thirty minutes?”

He laughed. “Thanks? You’re pretty cool, too. I wouldn’t have done this interior decorating we did otherwise. I mean I would have, but it wouldn’t have been as fun.”

“I honestly didn’t think you had it in you. You’re always so focused in class I figured you would be pretentious and stuck up. Plus, you wear a blazer and tie everyday.”

Doyoung’s face fell at her words. “We have a class together?” He chose to ignore the latter part of her comment.

Her cheeks took on yet another red hue that day as she gripped the blanket tighter in embarrassment. “Uh…no not exactly?”

Doyoung clearly heard the inflection on her last word. “Well then how?“

“I’m not a stalker!” she suddenly blurted.

“I didn’t say--“

“Your physics class is across the hall from my physics class at the same time on the same days. You sit down in the front near the door, and I sit towards the top in my classroom, but I can still see you through the doorway. You’re directly in my line of sight.”

“Yeah, that’s a stalker alright,” joked Doyoung. “What physics are you in? Did you pass your midterms?”

She was a little embarrassed to answer that. “I’m in general physics for pre-medical students. I made a 64. That’s a D. I might as well withdraw from the course at this point. I don’t think I can save my grade.”

“Well, that makes sense...Oh!” Doyoung snapped his fingers, something suddenly returning to his memory. “You’re that girl that eats candy and texts the whole class period. You own a light grey sweater that you wear every time the air conditioner kicks on.”

“You noticed me?”

“Yeah. You’re in my line of sight, too. I mean I’ve never seen you up close, that’s why I didn’t immediately recognize you from our run-ins today. But in case you didn't know, your behavior is why you failed your exam. If you ask me, I think you deserved an F rather than a D. And judging by all the candy you eat, I’m surprised you even have teeth--“

Without thinking, she grabbed the water filled condom from the nightstand and chucked it at Doyoung, which burst all over his face and white tank top. He looked shocked and blinked slowly as the water trickled down the desk chair. Before either of them realized what was happening, Doyoung was standing over her popping a balloon on top of her head, dousing her with cold water.

And thus, the war began.

After several back and forths of overhand throws and running around the room, there were now less condom balloons, severely wet furniture, and two soaking wet human bodies.

“Yuta is going to be so pissed,” she said looking around the room.

“He’ll survive.” Doyoung grabbed the blanket from the bed and moved to dry her off but she dodged, considering the wet t-shirt was cooling her skin from her sudden rise in body temperature. The impromptu physical activity, closeness and contact between the two of them, and the way their wet clothes clung to each of their bodies, and outlining every detail of their figures were to blame.

Doyoung dropped the blanket only to catch her furiously fiddling with the oversized wet shirt. “There’s no point,” she muttered. “You won’t be able to get every part of me that’s wet, so why bother?” He watched as she looked to the side at nothing in particular, her fourth time in one day garnering that rosy hue of embarrassment. He was starting to find it rather cute. However, while her expression dictated she couldn’t believe she had said that aloud, his dictated the internal struggle he currently faced with her words bouncing around in his head, immediately causing his lower head to fight against the tight restriction of the wet material clinging to his skin.

Doyoung was very intelligent. However, it didn’t take his stellar 4.0 GPA to know that Yuta’s diabolical plan since the beginning of the afternoon was finally starting to make progress. And one thing he hated was when people, well namely Yuta, got away with their evil plans. So he quickly turned away from her and walked toward the bathroom, closing it shut behind him. He laid his forehead on the door and took a deep breath. Cold water, he thought. Buddy you have to go down. Wait, I’m already soaking wet with cold water. Function, brain! He moved toward the shower anyway when he heard her lightly tap on the door.

“Doyoung? I’m sorry if what I said was inappropriate. What drawer are the clothes in?” Doyoung simply looked at the door and didn’t respond. “Doyoung?” After three more repeats of his name she let it go with a heavy sigh and went to find the drawer herself.

Doyoung felt bad for ignoring her so he peeped his head out the bathroom only to find the wet T-shirt discarded. She was standing in only her bralette and panties this time, the garments perfectly outlining the shape of her assets. He couldn’t help the choking noise that was caught in his throat, causing her to spin around in surprise.

Both their eyes grew wide like two horny teenagers who accidentally saw the half naked body of the opposite sex for the first time.

“I found the drawer and--”

Legend has it Doyoung lost control of his body as he walked from behind the door and into the room. The tent residing on his lower half at full attention and on display for her enjoyment.

He locked his eyes with hers. “After three years of pent up sexual frustration, my prefrontal cortex has decided to shut off and allow my glans and shaft to think for itself. Hence the situation I have in my boxers.” He motioned a hand downwards and she couldn't help her eyes from quickly darting to and from the area. “Now, I’m not one of those dudes like you see running around this frat house that needs to bang girls everyday. My education comes first. Speaking of coming,” her eyes slightly widened at the abrupt segway, “I haven’t done so with another person since high school, which was with my ex-girlfriend who later cheated on me with a football player. Therefore, I’m super clean with minimal, yet enough experience.

“Okay, Yuta is a horrible best friend, but I have to give him props because without him I wouldn’t be in this current situation. I was awarded a full scholarship to this school for my academic achievement, so I’m smart enough to know that there’s a 99% chance of the both of us leaving this room after pleasuring one another.” There wasn't even a chance for her mouth to fall open as he kept on speaking. “If not, I would have killed this boner in the bathroom and you would not be standing here with me looking this damn sexy in your...fuck!” He urgently ran a hand through his hair as sweat started to accumulate on his brow. “I’m not forcing you to do anything, we don’t have to do anything, and I’m not insinuating that you’re a girl that came to this party just to hook up with a guy. We can just continue to sit it out and wait to be rescued and then maybe I can show you what a pizza Friday should be and maybe help you bring your failing class average to a decent C+, maybe even B-. I don’t know. How’d your other tests go? Wait, who’s your profess--“

“Doyoung!” For a guy that looked like he had it together he sure let it all go in front of her. She stepped closer to him, her skin igniting as she did so. Whether the stars were aligned or not, admittance to paying attention to one another during class time was the first step of mutual chemistry. That and the evident arousals in both their underwear.

Doyoung’s breath hitched when she placed one hand over his chest and watched her carefully as she played with his wet tie with the other. “Fuck it,” she shrugged. “I’m all in. Me, mons pubis, and friends.”

Both of them had to stifle a laugh and then she tugged him closer by the accessory. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, his palms warm against the smooth skin of her cold back. He watched her eyes flicker from his lips back to his eyes as she bit the side of her bottom lip.

“Loosen your tie, Doyoung.”

And loosen his tie he did.

- C

#nct #kim doyoung #doyoung fic #nct fic #nct scenario #nct 127 #nct u #doyoung #doyoung smut #nct smut #nct doyoung #c writes

[i-have-been-changed-for-good]

Sepia

Monday -  I'm at the coffee machine when Scott comes in. Right when he turns the corner, Chris comes around from the wall I'm at. Scott is momentarily sidetracked, but then turns back to me and greets me. He has to walk closer to me cuz Chris is also walking by. Scott smells amazing. When I'm done making my coffee, I go to the mini fridge to grab my creamer. Scott comes walking up right after me to put his lunch in the fridge and grab some water. "I brought in yellow watermelon today." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah. So I'll bring it in during my lunch." I walk back down the hall.

After I wash my smoothie cup and use the bathroom right there, I head back down the hall. Scott is standing up at his computer and I take the opportunity to look him up and down and then rest my eyes on his face. Out of nowhere, he whips his head around at me. I've already got a small smile on my face. Scott doesn't react and merely turns back to his computer.

During lunch, I bring in my yellow watermelon. Scott tries it and says it tastes like regular watermelon. He says he didn't really do much over the weekend. I tell him about my moon ritual on friday: wrote negative things on paper and burned it; made a bath with flowers, bath salts, and a bathbomb; lit a candle; and meditated in the bath. He smiles, and then he asks me if I did it by myself. I'm thrown off guard by this. I wouldn't expect him to know these are usually done alone, but idk who he thinks I would take a bath with? A friend? A guy? Does he not trust me? Is he jealous? Or did he really not mean anything by the question? I say, "No, just me" and then add, "well, my cat joined me." He smiles again. I also told him I had my picnic on Saturday, wore my new bathing suit, and won at bingo. I also say how Sunday I did dinner with my dad cuz my family reunion was cancelled since no alcohol waa allowed and no one wanted to go. He said he wouldn't have gone either. I drop a small piece of watermelon on my chair and wipe the juice left, but it only seems to spread. I go and grab a disinfectant wipe and wipe it, but it's still wet. I end up just switching the chair with the one next to it. "All that for nothing," I say. Scott laughs. His one filling fell out so he has to go to the dentist this week to get it fixed. We end up talking about fruit and yogurt, and Scott says I should try the BlackBerry Oui yogurt, but I tell him blackberry is gross. "We can't seem to agree on fruit," I laugh. I tell scott to try a darker piece of watermelon cuz it's sweeter, and he agrees it is a bit sweeter than regular watermelon. Steve comes in and I ask if he wants a piece. He's never heard of yellow watermelon before and asks if it tastes like the regular. I say no and Scott says yes. Steve can't have any cuz he's having stomach issues and can't eat seeds. I tell Scott the watermelon will be in the mini fridge if he wants any.

Scott goes out to lunch, so he asks me if I want anything. I'm happy he asked since he didn't at all last week.

Scott makes his tea after lunch and I pop out to talk to him. We talk for a few minutes and when we stop, I realize that I am looking at him very sweetly. He's got a small smile on his face.

I go and take an order out into the warehouse and end up passing by Scott. As much as I think I'm awkward, scott has his moments too. He asks me what I'm doing, as if he doesn't know lol.

I end up coming out of my cubicle at the exact moment Scott comes walking out to go use the bathroom. I have no way of knowing when he's going to come out of his office, and I hope he knows this. I have to ask him about an order, so when I hear him come back I go into his office. He had sent an email but didn't copy my department, which he should do. I ask, "Oh, you didn't copy us?" I'm smiling though. He does that slow smile of his and says he didn't. I laugh and leave. I turn to look through Steve's window. Scott is facing my direction, watching me as he sips his tea. When I tell Joyce he did send an email but he didn't copy us, she says "of course not." 

Scott makes tea again at the end of the day and I come out to use the bathroom. We give each other little smiles and say, “hey.” That ends up being our last interaction for the day.

Tuesday -  I didn’t get to say hi to Scott in the morning when he first walks in. I make my coffee and go to the mini fridge and hear him talking down there. He had just walked away, but then comes back. He sees me and makes that face i cant describe. We say hi.

For some reason, sometimes the warehouse door locks behind people. It doesn't happen that often, and I've never had it happen to me, so idk what goes on. I hear knocking and pause, but no one is coming out of Scott and Steve's office to open it. I get up. Sure enough, it's Scott. Steve is on the phone so he couldn't get the door. "Locking me out?" "No, you locked yourself out." "No I didn't. Who was the last one to go out?" "Uh, probably you." He disagrees with me.

I go to change one of the ink cartridges in the printer, but it had exploded in the box. I go to put it back in the box and Scott comes walking out to go down the hall. I could see he was looking at me. The importance of me adding in these small moments is because Scott has only been looking at me when I'm not looking at him; when I do look, he turns away now.

I have to go to Shoprite for lunch today, so I message him and ask if he wants anything. He tells me non-minty gum, which isn't much to go on. I ask him what flavor and he tells me the trident tropical orange. I go into his office and he gives me money. I ran into several issues on my venture. I come back and tell Scott. There was a detour getting off the highway, so I had to go an extra few miles out of my way to get to shoprite, then when I get there, they had cantaloupe and grapes as the fruit. "Grapes I can understand, but who puts cantaloupe in their salad?? And of course when you go, they have the good fruit like berries and stuff." Then I tell him how I ended up stopping at the tracks by our work cuz there was a long ass train. I'm not a complainer in all honesty, so the way I tell it, I'm smiling and joking. Scott says, "Well if that's the worst that happens to you today, that's not too bad is it?" "Oh I know, I'm not upset I just get annoyed cuz I only have so much time on lunch." Since I got back later than usual and don't feel like scarfing down my lunch, I ask him if I can eat in there and he says "yeah, I don't care." He goes to fill up his cup with water and asks if I need any water. He's so sweet. I go and grab my water and avocado. Scott gets a phone call from a guy that used to work there, but who moved out to California. "Not a bad move," I say. Scott doesn't really agree. He's only been to one part of California. I tell him how I went there once too, but it was Pasadena/L.A. but that I also went to Santa Monica beach, which was really beautiful. I know Scott likes beaches. I tell him today is Harry Potter's birthday and that he's 38. "Really? I thought he was a young guy." "Uhh, the character not the actor." I crack up laughing and Scott smiles and watches me laugh. We end up talking about the greatest shows ever made and talk about Breaking Bad and GoT. He's never seen BB and I've never seen GoT. He tried to watch BB before, but couldn't get too into it. I tell him he has to stick with it.

I go upstairs to wash the bowl I had my avocado stored in so i can put it right back into my lunch bag. As I am about to reach the top of the stairs to go back down, Scott just reaches the top before I do. He smiles when he sees me and we say hi.

Scott gets tea when he comes down but I pop out after he already finishes his tea. His coffee stirrer is in his mouth, so when he sees me, he beams at me with a pursed-lip smile. It's so cute.

I'm in the warehouse when he comes back in from lunch. I turn to look at him through Steve's window as I pass by, and Scott, who had already been looking at me, quickly looks away. Asdfghjkl. Idk why he keeps doing that. I go back out into the warehouse a little later and we look at each other when I come back in. I have a slight smile, but he doesn't. He just has that neutral stare.

When Scott makes his end-of-day tea, I tell him how i had to dump my cpffee earlier because the bottom of the coconut creamer was all chalky and gross. I was supposed to shake it before each use, but immediately forgot after the first time. Whoops. He tells me that I could use his almond creamer, but I had decided to just make tea afterward. I go in end of day to talk to him. I tell him how I was going to bake something pumpkin for tomorrow, but I wasn't sure if anyone would eat it. He laughs and tells me to hold off just a little longer, maybe till like October. "October? But fall starts in September!" I flip up his calendar and my heart sinks, but I gotta pull it back up. Scott has off the first week of September. I mean, just kill me now, Scott, so that I won't have to hurt unbearably later on. Anyway, I find the first day of autumn, which is September 22. I tell him i can bake something around then. He tells me he's looking at hamstring stretches on YouTube, but is only finding basic stuff. I give him some pointers and tell him to always keep a slight bend in his knees since his hamstrings are so tight.  He watches me demonstrate. Then, because I just have to show off, I get into downward facing dog. I mean, it's nothing special. There is actually a lot that goes into doing the pose correctly, though you wouldn't really know just by looking at it. My butt does not face Scott (I'm not that show-offy). The pose supposedly isnt the absolute best if you want a hamstring stretch, but it is a good way to warm up the legs. After I get out of the pose, I stop to think about it and tell him to scratch that one, since he would have to make sure his form is correct. 

We leave at the same time, with Scott in front of me. We both drive fast so we're in the left lane, but the guy in front of Scott is going a bit slow. It's rare where the right side of the highway is open, and my exit is only about 1 mile, maybe a little more, away, so I get to the right and end up passing Scott. I set myself on cruise control at 85. The guy in front of Scott must have gotten over, because next thing I know, Scott is parallel to my car. Only the middle lane lies between us. I turn my head to look at him and he turns his head to me. I can't see his face cuz of his tinted windows. I laugh and turn my head forward again. We stay like this until my exit.

Wednesday -  I say hi to Scott in the morning at the printer. I whip my head around and greet him and he actually gives me a pretty big closed-mouth smile. I wonder if he thought it was funny how I whipped my head. I immediately notice that he's in his gray shirt, which is my favorite on him. His wife needs to tell him how good he looks because it would be a sin not to.

When i go and rinse my smoothie cup and head back, I see Steve has pulled his chair up to Scott's desk and they're looking at something. Scott keeps glasses at his desk and he's wearing them, and honestly, I think he's trying to give me heart failure because I cannot handle both the gray shirt AND the glasses at the same time.

I have several small interactions with Scott. I'm at the printer when he comes out of the bathroom, and also at the same time Joyce comes out of her cubicle to put highlighters she ordered me at my desk. So she's talking to me and I turn and I try to look at Scott, but I have to look at Joyce. Scott just watches me.

I go out into the warehouse to get paper to fill the cabinet. I see Steve isn't in the office, but Scott doesn't acknowledge me until my second trip. He looks at me through his window and I open the door and give him a little smile. He smiles and turns to me and asks if I need help. I tell him I’m okay.

I don’t get to talk to Scott during my lunch. He must have went out into the warehouse while I was putting my bag upstairs, because when I come down to use the bathroom, I can see he’s not in his office. I go back to my desk and read...for the next 15 minutes. Scott comes back in at 12:40, 5 minutes before my lunch is over. I’m debating on whether or not to still go in when he comes out to use the bathroom. This has never happened before. I start to get anxious thoughts, that maybe he did it on purpose because he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. I think about what he said a week and a half ago, and whether or not he meant it: “What do you want me to do, just ignore you?”. I feel sad.

When Scott makes his tea during his lunch, we ask each other how our day is going. Scott says he’s been really busy. After he finishes his tea, he lounges up against the counter, which he usually doesn’t do. I have some hope that he is trying to make up for my lunch and that maybe he does want to talk to me. He tells me he had raspberry yogurt but that I probably wouldn’t like it, but I tell him I approve of the raspberry. I tell him how I think I’m so against blackberry flavor cuz I had some bad experiences. My one sister shoved a blackberry Sour Head down my throat when I was like 5, and I choked on it until I threw up black. Then when I was 17, I stole some of my dad’s blackberry liquor, which was disgusting but I still drank it. Scott says he can see why I don’t like it. I’m actually the one who walks away, ending the conversation, when a lot of times it’s Scott, especially on his lunch. He was willing to give me some of his lunch time today. 

I'm at the printer when he comes back in from lunch, which rarely happens. I finish stamping my order and turn around. Scott is throwing something in the recycling bin, so he's not looking at me. He looks up just as I'm about to enter my cubicle. I do one of those smiles with my mouth all the way to the right side of my face. I go into my cubicle without stopping to see if he responds back to me. I haven’t been on the receiving end lately.

I eat the last of my yellow watermelon I have in the mini fridge, so I go to the sink to rinse it out. The bathroom door is closed. I am standing over the trashcan, emptying out the tiny pieces that are left when the door opens. It’s Scott. He smiles and says, “Oh, hello.” I smile back at him. He goes to the receptionist stand to ask who fixes the paper towels, then he comes back and ends up fixing them himself. “Did you break it?” I ask as I come up to the sink in the bathroom to wash my hands (there isn’t hand soap at the sink outside of the bathroom). “No, I’m fixing it,” he replies. “It was empty.” He goes back out of the bathroom to tell the receptionist never mind, and after I dry my hands off I head back to my desk.

A little later in the day, I come out of the bathroom, and I can hear the paper towels in the men’s room. The door opens right as I’m about to turn into my cubicle. I turn my head and see it’s Scott, so I back up. “Following me?” I ask. “Seems like it” is all he says.

I go into his office at the end of the day and ask him if he stretched his hamstrings last night, but he says he didn’t. He did have his chiropractor appointment though, so he felt like he didn’t need to. I tell him it’s been a weird day, which it has been, and he actually agrees. I tell him how a guy I work with at the restaurant messaged me some weird thing about pasta salad, and I tell him about that. He just looks at me. I tell him how Will tried to scare me when I went out into the warehouse, but I just turned my head to look at him. Scott thought it was funny when I demonstrated. When I was heading back, Will was trying to sneak attack me, but I saw the top of his head, and so I jumped out at him. He wasn’t expecting it. It was pretty funny. Scott laughs at it too. He tells me he might just take the whole day off tomorrow since he doesn’t want to come in after getting his filling replaced, since his mouth will be numb. It’s time to go, and when I walk out of his office, Chris the engineer had his wife bring their puppy again. I sit on the ground as the puppy scrambles onto my lap and I talk to Chris for a minute or two. I get up, and Scott is getting ready to leave. I go and grab my things and say bye to Pete and Joyce. Scott comes walking out of his office behind me, so I stop for a few seconds to wait for him. “You didn’t want to see the puppy?” I ask. “Nah, I gotta stop at Best Buy. I’m kinda in a hurry.” “Oh, okay.” I walk a little faster. He’s so serious sometimes. We go outside and I say, “See you tomorrow”, but all he replies is “Aight.” I’m thinking about how that’s weird, but then when I get to my car I remember he said he might not come in tomorrow. I start to worry about how he’s going to think I don’t pay attention to him. I do, it’s just my brain is constantly like, on fire lol. Scott does pass me on the highway and I turn to look at him right after he passes, just a second too late. It looked like he was looking at me, but I can’t be sure.

Thursday - Scott doesn’t come in today. He decided to take the day off. Throughout the day, I plan stuff that I feel I need to say to Scott about what’s going on on my end. I plan to keep it short and to the point.

Friday -  Scott comes im several minutes late, so I didn’t get to greet him. Right after he comes in, he tells Steve how he went to the beach. I get that ugly, sad feeling again. 

I end up walking by his office several times, but I might as well not even exist in Scott’s world anymore. At one point, I end up walking back in from the warehouse while he’s turned and talking to Steve. As soon as I look at him, he averts his eyes, but keeps talking. I don’t know what’s going on, quite honestly.

Just like Wednesday, I end up coming out of the bathroom right before he does. I turn and look at him. No reaction.

During my lunch, I go in and ask how his day’s been. He’s busy. I don’t waste any time in saying, “Yeah, I realized Wednesday after I said ‘See you tomorrow’ that you said you might not come in. I’m just so used to saying it.” He laughs and says it’s okay. I only thought about it maybe 20 times yesterday. He gets a phone call and after he hangs up he tells me how he’s working on this large order for some guy who always asks for quotes and then barely orders anything, so it’s a waste of his time. His boss, Non-engineer Chris, was supposed to do the order, but he’s out today. I keep talking while Scott works. I tell him how I had the coconut Oui yogurt, which is Scott’s favorite flavor, but I like the fruit ones better. I actually had a strawberry banana coconut milk yogurt that was amazing. I’ve been trying to replace all of my dairy products with non-dairy. I tell him how last night I was carrying my trash, but it was so heavy and then I remembered I still had the watermelon shell in there, plus all of my regular trash. The trash ended up ripping in the middle of the lot, so I had to pick stuff up and carry it, but then there was still a mound of litter that I left there. It was raining pretty heavy during my lunch, so if it was still there, I knew it would be gone now. I mention the highway from the other day when we were going to same speed and driving parallel to each other. Scott smiles and says he saw me. I tell him how I read a thing that says if you play your music loud, studies show you’re probably a bad driver. Scott asks me if I believe I’m a bad driver. “Well, that’s what everyone tells me. Oh, but then the thing also said at the end at least you look cool with your music playing loud, but idk how cool I look in my blue Dodge.” Scott laughs. Neither one of us has weekend plans, so there’s nothing to talk about regarding that. He talks to me about his order a little bit and then Steve comes in. Steve usually goes to fill up his water right after he comes in, so I say, “I always think Steve is early, but nope, he’s always punctual.” I get up and Scott says, “Sorry I was busy the whole time.” “It’s okay. I know,” I say as I walk out. I had been practicing what I want to say all day, but it just didn’t seem right to say anything while I was in there on my lunch. He was busy working on the quote for that guy, so I knew it was not the right time. I know I will do it at the end of the day.

About 15-20 minutes later, Scott still hasn’t gone to lunch. I come out of my cubicle to use the bathroom right at the same time he comes out of his cubicle to fill his water. He turns to me and actually has a small smile on his face as he looks at me. I’m pleasantly surprised. I don’t get to see him again until the very end of the day.

I go in to talk to Scott with 10 minutes left in the work day. I ask if he's been busy the rest of the day and he says a little but not too bad, but then Steve's phone is paged so Scott has to take the call. He says "this guy's an asshole" and then answers the phone. The phone call goes on and on. During this time I take a quick peek at the calendar. Steve has off next Friday, and then Scott took off Friday the 17th and Monday the 20th. Oh.... I sit in the chair and go over everything I need to say. I’m mentally ready. Scott finally gets off the phone after almost 10 minutes. He says that guy had been calling Steve all day and that he had talked to the guy too at one point and accidentally hung up on him, but the guy called back. It's 4:45 now, but I can't leave without saying what I need to say. I don't feel awkward or nervous; if anything, I’m very calm. "I'm sorry about 2 weeks ago." Then I stop. I wasn't planning on stopping; I was hoping to just breeze my way through the whole thing. I don’t know why I stop, and because I surprised myself, I just look up at Scott, who then looks down at me. "I was just having a lot of anxiety." I had planned to say more about this. I was going to also say "I was having a rough week" and "I had an anxiety attack, which I'm sure you saw" and “My best solution is to confront all of the things giving me anxiety”, but it didn't seem right anymore to add those in. Scott says back, soothingly, "Don't worry about it." I continue, "I just don't understand a lot of things, and that's all I was trying to do. I like you, but I know you're married. I don't want you to think I have any ulterior motives or anything talking to you. I just like talking to you." I can't help but look up at him with a little smile on my face after I say that. "I wasn't sure what you were thinking, so I just wanted to make all of that clear." Scott says again, "Dont worry about it." He also said "it's alright" a few times in that sweet, soothing way of his while I was talking. I wasn't looking at him the whole time I was talking, but I could see he never took his eyes off of me. He had a small smile on his face, but it was so different from the one 2 weeks ago. This one was genuine and caring, and though it wasn't a big smile, it still reached his eyes. I don't hang around. "Have a nice weekend, Scott." "Aight. Thanks, you too, Dana." I look through Steve's window as I pass, but Scott is looking back at his screen. I go and grab my things, give Pete my hours sheet, and then go outside. I clutch my book to my chest as I walk and take deep breaths. "Don't cry, Dana. Don't cry." I get into my car. It's 4:49. I assume Scott will be stuck inside for at least a few more minutes because of the phone call he got. I pull away. I start crying before I reach the gate.

I don't know what Scott thinks, what he feels, or what is going on, or what was ever going on. I guess I had been naive to think that he had feelings for me too, but maybe he really did change his mind about me. I don't know. I know I had to say those things though, and I wouldn't have felt any peace till I did. I like being open and honest, that's just who I am, and it is always unnatural for me to hold back and hurts me in the end. I didn't expect myself to cry, but then in hindsight, I should have seen it coming. I felt really off yesterday into today, and then add to that equation barely talking to Scott for most of the week, and then telling him things without any reciprocation whatsoever...it hurts. I wasn’t expecting anything in return from Scott; I just wanted to say those things because I felt it was the right thing to do, not because i wanted anything in return.

I start to wonder again what is going on on Scott’s end. Was he having a rough patch in his marriage or something, and things are finally looking better? Did everything really boil down to him just liking the attention from me? Does he just not get that much attention at home, and he liked that I have always been happy to see and talk to him? Did he really marry the right person and is meant to be with his wife? I have no answers, and I guess Scott doesn’t really care enough to give them to me.

I look back over all of these months, back to the beginning, back to December. I can see everything along this timeline, and I can see clearly how it started, how it’s gone since then, and where it is now. I can see it all so, so clearly, and I ask myself, “what was the purpose of all this?” I do have a few answers for it, but they also don’t feel conclusive to me, and I can’t explain why. I want them to be, but they’re not, and I wonder if it’s because I know how difficult this is going to continue to be, my battle with things drastically changing between Scott and I and my uncertainty of what that means for me.

I think about so many honest and tender moments between us, how many times he looked at me with such a glow, such a light, and I just keep wondering how this is a happily married man. There is so much I don’t understand, and I am trying to come to peace with that without having any answers from Scott. This is not the first time I’ve had to do this with someone; it’s happened to me with friendships and romances, and it is very hard to do. People close themselves off, and I think it’s sad. I don’t want to be like that, and I think I’ve done a pretty decent job with being an open and honest person. I try not to put too much faith in people anymore and remind myself “Not everyone has the same heart that you do,” but of course, there’s still always some bit of disappointment there. It’s unavoidable. Even if you know it’s coming, you can’t ever fully prepare for the letdown.

I haven't felt so sad for myself in a very long time. In years, probably. I think maybe because I've felt like this whole time I've been doing nothing but the right things, or at least trying to, and it still didn’t really matter in the end. This is still resulting in heartbreak. And I'm well aware I am owed an apology from Scott for many things, but I forgive him anyway without one. If you always expect people to admit when they’re wrong and to give an apology just because that’s what you always do, it’s just more disappointment. I just wonder though if he's even aware of what he's done, and if he even cares. That’s a hard pill to swallow, knowing how much I care and finally realizing that he may not care as much as I thought he did. Unless he does and he’s just hiding it. Scott is very, very good at hiding his emotions. He is much more reserved than I am. It takes a lot for me at times to really see and feel what is truly going on with him, and still even half the time I cannot quite figure it out or put my finger on it. Making these posts has not only been ways for me to document moments and memories, but also ways to help me reflect and come to realizations about both Scott and this situation.

And even though I told Scott that I like him, told him I have no ill intentions, told him I just wanted to understand, that is still such a small, small portion of all that is really going on inside of me. I felt satisfied telling him just that little bit, because I do feel like it conveyed so much, but I know that the deep inner workings of my own self haven’t come through, and Scott may never see that.

I don’t know how to say out loud what this really feels like. How there have been so many colors, so beautiful, bold and bright, and as I walked to my car, clutching my book to my chest and fighting off my tears, I saw the colors melt away, leaving a stain of what was once there. And I saw the world in a sepia tone, and everything felt so lifeless and dull. I saw all of the colors, and then they were gone, and I have been left to wonder if it would have been better to not have experienced the colors at all. 

And I just don’t know.

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 17/04/2021 (Polo G, Dave, Doja Cat & SZA, Taylor Swift)

Okay, so, UK Singles Chart time – all hell broke loose. I knew Taylor Swift and Dave would make an impact but I was also not expecting all of the chaos to come with it. With that said, Lil Nas X is still at #1 for a third week with “MONTERO (Call Me by Your Name)” and let’s just get through with this. This is REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Rundown

In this starting rundown segment, I’ve got a lot to cover so I’ll make it quick, no nonsense. First of all, I cover the UK Top 75. Why the top 75? I’m difficult – even though it’s actually more convenient. Secondly, the notable drop-outs – songs that peaked in the top 40 or spent more than five weeks on the chart that are gone from the top 75 this week thanks to this avalanche of 14 or so new arrivals. This week, we say goodbye to a bunch of our debuts from last week as well as “telepatía” by Kali Uchis, “Bringing it Back” by Digga D and AJ Tracey, “You’re Mines Still” by Yung Bleu and remixed by Drake, “Midnight Sky” by Miley Cyrus, “Watermelon Sugar” by Harry Styles, “Mr. Brightside” by the Killers and several #1 hits, including “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac, “Sweet Melody” by Little Mix, “Mood” by 24kGoldn featuring iann dior, “Dance Monkey” by Tones and I and finally, “Someone You Loved” by Lewis Capaldi, after spending a whopping 113 weeks in this region... despite being terrible. I mean, it’ll be back next week but celebrate the little victories, like our returns, for example. “X Gon’ Give it to Ya” by the late DMX is back at #72 after the passing of the hip-hop icon last week. This legendary song was actually one of his later hits – not even a hit in the States – and originally peaked at #6 in the UK back in 2003. We sadly don’t see anything else from DMX returning but we do also see Taylor Swift’s re-recorded version of “Love Story” revisiting the charts at #45 off the album boost.

Now for the songs that fell or rose this week, starting with the notable losses, being songs that dropped five spots or more. First, we have “Your Love (9PM)” by ATB, Topic and A7S at #13, followed by “Don’t Play” by Anne-Marie, KSI and Digital Farm Animals at #17, “Hold On” by Justin Bieber at #20, “Save Your Tears” by the Weeknd at #22, “Up” by Cardi B at #23, “Commitment Issues” by Central Cee at #25, “Latest Trends” by AI x JI plummeting at #28, “Patience” by KSI featuring YUNGBLUD and Polo G at #29, “drivers license” by Olivia Rodrigo at #34, “We’re Good” by Dua Lipa at #35, “Anyone” by Justin Bieber at #40, “Black Hole” by Griff at #41, “All You Ever Wanted” by Rag’n’Bone Man at #43, “WITHOUT YOU” by the Kid LAROI at #44, “Binding Lights” by the Weeknd at #46, “Goosebumps” by HVME and Travis Scott at #47, “6 for 6” by Central Cee at #48, “Medicine” by James Arthur at #49, “Head & Heart” by Joel Corry and MNEK at #50, “Met Him Last Night” by Demi Lovato featuring Ariana Grande at #54 off of the debut, “Paradise” by MEDUZA and Dermot Kennedy at #58, Doja Cat’s “Streets” at #60 and “Best Friend” with Saweetie at #61, “Tonight” by Ghost Killer Track featuring D-Block Europe at #62, “Get Out My Head” by Shane Codd at #63, “Beautiful Mistakes” by Maroon 5 featuring Megan Thee Stallion at #66, “Track Star” by Mooski at #67, “Headshot” by Lil Tjay, Fivio Foreign and Polo G at #73, “What Other People Say” by Sam Fischer and Demi Lovato at #74 and finally, whatever’s left of Drake as “What’s Next” is at #68 and “Lemon Pepper Freestyle” with Rick Ross is at #70.

Our gains are arguably more interesting, as it’s impressive to climb five spots or higher or reach the top 40 for the first time in the midst of all this nonsense. Therefore, we do have just a few gains, those being “Runaway” by AURORA at #51 off of the debut, “Nice to Meet Ya” by Wes Nelson featuring Yxng Bane making a surprise attack at the top 40 going to #39 off of the debut, “Good Without” by Mimi Webb at #18 and “Ferrari Horses” by D-Block Europe and RAYE continuing its gains up to #16. That’s pretty much it – still took a while – so let’s get through those 14 new arrivals, huh? God help me.

NEW ARRIVALS

#75 – “Marea (We’ve Lost Dancing)” – Fred again.. and The Blessed Madonna

Produced by Boston Bun and Fred again..

This is one of the songs that really padded out our new arrivals list – to explain, a lot of the time, these songs were released weeks ago and only now gain enough traction to debut within the top 75 and hence be discussed by me. This one just happens to have popped up in a week where everything is going on already so it kind of gets lost in incoherency but regardless, this is a song from Ed Sheeran’s producer Fred Gibson, who I refuse to call by his stage name, from his most recent project featuring vocals from The Blessed Madonna, most commonly known right now as the producer and DJ behind the club mix edition of Dua Lipa’s Future Nostalgia and hence the “Levitating” remix with Missy Elliott and, well, actual Madonna. The song itself is one I’m surprised is about anything but has these mostly spoken word vocals about how we as a world have “lost dancing” to the COVID-19 pandemic, as well as hugs, and, well, that’s all she decides to elaborate about. She also guarantees that once everything is over, “what comes next will be marvellous”. Whilst I appreciate the sentiment, I think it’s almost a dangerous promise, given that we’ll be in this pandemic for longer than anyone expected and it’s pretty evident that we’ll still be keeping to social distancing as the vaccine roll-out continues all throughout this year. At this point, we’re still in lockdown and international travel will still be stunted for years after the fact. This song feels like The Blessed Madonna getting on her pedestal about the arts and their impact on people without going into any detail that warrants the soapbox, bizarrely over some synth-heavy deep house beat that decides to do little more than flutter through the entirety of the five-minute runtime. Yeah, this is pretty insufferable. Next.

#71 – “Slumber Party” – Ashnikko featuring Princess Nokia

Produced by CallMeTheKidd

Okay, so TikTok picks this one up and the label then decides to push this over “Deal with It”, a brilliant pop song that was right there and already had the high-budget video to boot? Regardless, this is taken from Ashnikko’s debut mixtape of sorts, Demidevil, and whilst as a whole the project does little more than act as harmless fun guising as anything more, a couple of the singles are genuinely pretty great, including this one, which seems to be a break-out hit for rapper Princess Nokia. This song relies on the jerkiness of its almost DJ Mustard-esque club beat and that warped might-be-a-flute loop to support Ashnikko’s similarly sloppy delivery, which decides to be as in character in possible – of which I mean that it is obnoxious and frankly ridiculously stupid. This isn’t a “slumber party” at all, and whilst the childish implications are if anything kind of unnerving, there is a lot of fun to be had here if you get past the “kawaii hentai boobies” in the chorus. Nokia’s verse continues the album’s general early 2000s aesthetic with her referencing many hits and singers from that time period in a pretty slick albeit one-and-done verse that should really be extended further than it is. I mean, I would have preferred that to Ashnikko’s second verse comparing her girlfriend to the little girl from The Addams Family, before mentioning how her eyes go black when she orgasms and that her spit tastes like Juicy Fruit gum. Okay, so when it comes to filthy lesbian rap I think I prefer acts like BASSIDE but for what it’s worth, this is surreal and fun enough for me to like. I hope it does well, but know she has better songs even on that same tape.

#69 – “Versus” – SL and M1llionz

Produced by Lucas Dante and Yng Cld

Oh, hey, another drill track by two guys produced by two guys for two guys to rap about how cool it is to be the two guys they are. I guess the gimmick here is that the single actually has an instrumental version as well for whatever reason; I guess they want people to remix the track. That would make sense, as this beat is immediately recognisable from that chipmunk squeak of a glitched vocal sample they use. In fact, I think I prefer the instrumental version because when those booming 808s come in, it hits really hard especially with the scattering drill percussion. SL and M1llionz are trading bars here in what is basically one verse and it’s not like they’re saying nothing of interest here as there is a viable enough amount of detail here in these bars about exactly what you’d expect. But that’s exactly what it is: exactly what you’d expect. By the first verse, you’ve already heard SL talk about watching The Boondocks and that’s about as interesting as it gets. Sure, the interplay between the two guys in this case is pretty smooth, but it goes on for about a minute too long and M1llionz has a lot more charisma than SL so it does feel like half the song is wasted away. The producers know that too, as they decide to fade the song out very quickly after M1llionz stops rapping his final bars. This is fine – on some days, I’d probably call it really good – but it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.

#64 – “Starstruck” – Years & Years

Produced by Mark Ralph and Nathaniel Ledwidge

We’re not even out of that bottom third of the chart and we’ve still got a lot ahead of us before we get above that point. Here, we have “Starstruck”, sadly not the Lady Gaga or 3OH!3 song but instead the first officially solo song by Years & Years, which is now just frontman Olly Alexander after his bandmates’ departure, similar to Panic! at the Disco except the members seem to be on good terms, or Ritt Momney, except no one here is a Mormon missionary... yet. Whilst you could see this from a mile away if you had listened to that last album, it would be deceiving to say it’s only Olly this time around as he’s enlisted several outside producers and writers to craft a pretty straightforward love song. Well, is it any good? I’m not entirely sold on it, mostly because it seems to reject all of the lyrical intrigue there was in those past two albums – at least intermittently – for a pretty generic if not pure and lovely content, with the most interesting of lyrics being about sipping his partner up like cosmic juice, which I’ll admit got a laugh out of me. It is fitting for how this janky dance-pop song sounds as sonically it’s kind of a quirky mess with a lot of bassy grooves in the verses only to be replaced by a shiny synth blend that completely shrouds the chorus in video game sound effects and French house-esque filter effects. This sound is very much a late-2000s early-2010s throwback in some ways and throwing it back even further in others, which creates an interesting sound but not enough to not let this become easily stale after just the second chorus, especially if it’s going to purposefully fumble its climax for an awkward build-up that involves basically revealing the drop measures before it should have. Yeah, I want to like this but it just seems kind of confused as it is. I’m still going to listen to that third album whenever it comes, but I’m somewhat disappointed with this lead single thus far.

#57 – “Lingo” – Deno featuring J.I. the Prince of NY and Chunkz

Produced by Da Beatfreakz

Alright, so British rapper Deno has enlisted New York rapper J.I. – who I refuse to call by his full stage name – and Chunkz, who I’m pretty sure is some YouTuber, to hop on a beat from DaBeatfreakz, specifically this watery R&B beat with vocal loops drowned out by bass and some awkward mixing. Deno isn’t much of a presence in the verse or chorus, J.I. talks about some girl not chewing him right and Chunkz, who sounds awful on any beat with the whiny Auto-Tuned mumble, somehow doesn’t say anything of interest despite being the semi-professional comedian of these three guys, or at least not before Deno takes over his verse and they all give up for the last couple measures. Yes, that was one sentence – this song doesn’t deserve much more.

#56 – “Shy Away” – twenty one pilots

Produced by Tyler Joseph

I’ve never been that big a fan of twenty one pilots, but I was actually pretty fond of her most recent album, Trench. What fascinates me about them is how they seemed to have done really well for themselves that one time in the Blurryface era and have coasted off the success of that to fund some of their more out-there and experimental musical aspirations. I don’t think they’re looking for big hits anymore – which is good because this won’t be one – but people will always be looking out for what they do next, and they’ve just announced a new album coming soon with this as the lead single. Thankfully, it’s not that COVID-19 pandemic pandering from last year which got on my nerves a lot more than it should. “Shy Away”, instead, goes for... 1980s dance-punk, because, of course. I do love that jerky synth lead and how well it’s backed by that chugging bass and percussion, which we’ll always know is organic coming from Josh Dun. The song itself is a somewhat vague motivational track but not for no reason, as these lyrics actually originated from when Tyler Joseph was giving advice to his brother, a budding musician, trying to get him to see himself in a new light and find his unique purpose in music and not to “shy away” from continuing with his dreams. I can get behind that, especially if it’s going to have squealing guitar segues, an infectious power-pop chorus that will probably not leave my head for a long time and the excellent swell of guitars in that third verse before the brief breakdown in the post-chorus with all those squibbling synth effects. It’s just a wonderfully constructed song on all accounts, even if it sacrifices some of that unique personality we usually get from Tyler for the sake of making a tighter pop-rock song.

#52 – “You Belong with Me” (Taylor’s Version) – Taylor Swift

Produced by Taylor Swift and Christopher Rowe

I guess the best place to start with these re-recordings is the original song, which I’ve never liked. I’ve never seen a reason to enjoy Taylor’s entitled adolescent whining over some pretty garbage production making what may as well be organic country instrumentation sound like MIDI tracks. She doesn’t deliver a particularly good vocal performance, or at least one good enough to excuse “She wear short skirts, I wear T-shirts, she’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers”. There isn’t enough detail to make this seem like a toxic relationship so she ends up just sounding bratty. This new version, from a matured Taylor Swift a decade later, has decided not to change any of these lyrics and it just sounds worse coming from a Taylor who clearly knows a lot better and is in a happy relationship. Okay, the instrumentation sounds a lot more organic and has more of a groove than it used to, with some more intricate production moments that are cool, but that’s really the only change that improves on an already mediocre song. Taylor’s voice has improved a lot since that original recording but so has she, and her selling these lyrics with as much conviction while in her 30s just ends up sounding sad. It only makes sense to “reclaim” these songs if you’re going to try and make them your own again, and not representative of someone I don’t think Taylor is anymore. Alas, it’s listenable, but this could have been one of the more interesting re-recordings and nothing was done with it past the better mixing and a pretty epic guitar solo, even if it does feel unwarranted by the content.

#42 – “Way Too Long” – Nathan Dawe, Anne-Marie and MoStack

Produced by Scribz Riley, Tré Jean-Marie, Nathan Dawe and GRADES

For someone who is solely a producer and DJ, I say that’s two or three too many credited producers, but regardless, before we get to more Taylor Swift, which we will eventually, we’ve got some leftover house track with B-list stars that starts with the words, “Hey, yo, yo, it’s Stack Rack”. With that said, I actually kind of like this song with its strings swelling more than the usual track and its bass-heavy club groove in the verses being more complex in its percussion, especially when the sound design is that interesting in the second half of the verse as all of these effects and different synth patterns occur in the back of the mix, which kind of lets me forgive how anti-climactic the drop is. It’s not really an EDM song as much as it’s a light-hearted pop track and Anne-Marie isn’t taking it as seriously as she could, especially on that vocoder-drop chorus, which makes the song a lot more fun that it should be. MoStack is who really shines on this track though, as his verse is – probably unintentionally – very funny, as he twists the meaning of the song to a phallic joke, happily engages in monogamy, particularly with every British pop-star he can think of and says “forget quality, I want quantity”. He just lists famous singers by the end of this verse that he finds attractive and is completely gone off the deep-end by the time he’s ignored by Anne-Marie’s swell of a chorus. It’s not a great song and definitely falls into the traps that most EDM does but as it is, it’s a fun track with a surprisingly hilarious and sloppy guest verse from MoStack that I was not expecting, as well as just being inoffensive across the board.

#33 – “Mercury” – Dave featuring Kamal.

Produced by Manny Manhattan and Kyle Evans

Dave released a double A-side single – or at least whatever the equivalent for that is in the streaming age – and this was the less popular track, “Mercury”, with singer Kamal. If you don’t know Dave is, he’s one of the biggest and most celebrated rappers in the UK and this is his first solo release since 2019. I’ve usually been pretty happy with Dave’s releases – hell, Psychodrama was one of my favourite albums of 2019 – but I’m not entirely sure I can endorse this lazy trap beat relying on some gentle but overbearing pianos and groovier bass knocks. Really, the beat is pretty minimal so we can focus on what Dave’s saying, right? Well, we could, but why would we want to? Sure, there’s some good wordplay weaved into here and I don’t dislike his stories about gang violence and paranoia, even if they’re delivered in the most checked-out almost condescending way possible, but I can’t get behind the misogyny that seems to run a lot deeper than it does in typical rap. Sure, he makes the same googly-eyed observations about attractive women, describes some parts of the sex but interestingly not any part he plays, and also describes her as a “work of art”, but this is all after he dismisses women in general for not “forgiving him for his sins”, in some thinly-veiled Ariana Grande reference that leaves me more pissed off than he is, especially since Dave’s not as self-aware as he thinks he is, particularly because he himself can barely forgive himself for his wrongs in that second verse. Instead, he shrouds it in hedonism like any other rapper – what have the women got to do other than make good decisions for themselves about who they sleep with? He doesn’t go into disgusting detail like Digga D on “Toxic” but it rubs me the wrong way, especially if he’s going to then complain about the myth that is cancel culture. If this comes from a genuine place where he was genuinely attacked for something he didn’t deserve the abuse for, I’d understand, but why even complain about the supposed mob of Twitter users when the only tie you have to it is something reported on your brother by the right-wing press that everyone ignored? Other than missing the point terribly, it’s not like this song is catchy or notable. Even he acknowledges that this five-minute bore wouldn’t make the album, and it’s for good reason.

#32 – “Anywhere Away from Here” – Rag’n’Bone Man and P!nk

Produced by Rag’n’Bone Man, Mike Elizondo and Ben Jackson-Cook

So this is Rag’n’Bone Man’s second single from that upcoming album, or at least the second to chart, and after the surprisingly great post-punk rocker that was “All You Ever Wanted”, I’m excited to hear what a duet with P!nk could sound like. After all, they’re both rougher voices in the pop sphere, even if P!nk’s been doing it for much longer. Sadly, it’s a ballad... not to say they can’t do ballads well but this is a pretty minimal piano-lead track with some really badly mixed vocals from Rag’n’Bone Man as he channels an unintelligible Dave Grohl that’s way too loud in the mix, especially when the strings come in and cloud the mix. I do like the content once again with Rag’n’Bone Man as he continues to discuss the careless days of his youth, but this is more about growing older and eventually growing discontent with that lifestyle and each other, just wanting to be somewhere else. P!nk delivers this in a way that’s a lot more flattering to her voice and the instrumental, but when the borderline choir vocals come in with those terribly-mixed harmonies between the two and that pointless bridge, I give up on this song. It just refuses to go anywhere, I’m sorry, and it had a lot of potential but these voices don’t particularly mesh together especially over some basic piano and strings. This could have been great and as is, is less than mediocre.

#30 – “Mr. Perfectly Fine” (Taylor’s Version) (From the Vault) – Taylor Swift

Produced by Taylor Swift and Jack Antonoff

I didn’t listen to the re-recorded version of Fearless; instead I just listened to the six or so bonus “from the vault” tracks because that’s the only new content and I’m not big on any of it. It sounds exactly as you’d expect a 31-year-old woman reciting lyrics she wrote and shelved when she was a teenager, not even thinking they were good enough to release then, decades after the fact, and most of the songs just aren’t interesting at all. I think “Bye Bye Baby” is a great pop song but besides that there’s nothing much to enjoy in these tracks, at least from me. I know that Taylor’s biggest fans will love how she re-recorded leaked and rumoured songs that had been circulating but as someone detached from that, it does nothing for me. This song in particular is about Joe Jonas, because, of course, it was, and it’s a petty, sarcastic break-up song Taylor should be able to deliver confidently but ends up falling flat based on almost that awful verse melody alone, which is just janky, unpleasant and stretched out to the point of annoyance, especially if it’s going to be produced this well. She dug up this track seemingly only to get Antonoff on the record, and, sure, the chorus is catchy and has that one great moment with those crashing guitars, but it enjoys killing its momentum as soon as it gets going... for five minutes. Yeah, I’m sorry but I’m not interested in what was left on the cutting room floor a decade separated from the release of this re-recording, especially if this fully-fleshed instrumentation does little more than distract from how dreadfully boring this song is. Wake me up when she re-records Speak Now or especially reputation, because that will truly be fascinating.

#10 – “Kiss Me More” – Doja Cat featuring SZA

Produced by tizhimself, Carter Lang, Rogét Chahayed and Yeti Beats

I’ve forgotten to mention that three of those 14 new arrivals actually debuted in the top 10 this week, meaning, yes, whilst we’re nearly done, we’ve still got a lot to cover and we start with what seems to be the lead single from Doja Cat’s upcoming album, as she enlists SZA to assist her on this classily unclassy disco-pop song. Those main guitars do sound great, especially with Doja’s signature cooing over them, and that’s before we get to that slick pink disco groove not dissimilar to “Say So” but with a tighter, fun bassline and how quickly Doja strips off the subtlety. I could do without that mess of a post-chorus that is just a blend of too many, not very great vocal takes, but I do love how it leads into Doja’s unsubtle sex bars that actually go into some interesting detail, but not as much SZA being kind of filthy but also delivering a pretty great vocal performance, even if she starts with asking her partner for that “gushy stuff”. I do find it odd that it decides to censor “dick” of all words, but this production is great and I actually particularly like that final chorus and post-chorus once SZA starts harmonising on it. As is, it’s a pretty tight and likeable disco jam from two charismatic performers... co-written by Dr. Luke. Goddamn it, Doja, I don’t know what contract he’s got you in but Jesus, someone do something about that.

#9 – “Titanium” – Dave

Produced by Kyle Evans and P2J

This is our second Dave song and obviously the more successful of the two, at about three minutes shorter – thankfully – debuting in the top 10. It’s much better than “Mercury”, even if the song literally starts with him bragging about not needing vibrators to make his girlfriend orgasm. That said, the lyrics here are actually a lot slicker, flowing much like he did on “Streatham” as he lists so many precious metals you’d think he’s Bender. I do like the intricacies in these lyrics, even if he doesn’t really adapt it into any wordplay. He mentions how awkward that it is that his neighbours are going to vote Conservative as he brags in an almost freestyle-like structure in the single verse he spits, which has a couple flow switches and a lot more empty space than it should for a beat this awkwardly mixed, as whilst I like the trap percussion here, it really does not sound that great over borderline MIDI pianos. The little string inflections and drum fills here are cool though, and those intricacies are what makes Dave’s verse so interesting, as he foreshadows his bar about Tyson Fury with an ad-lib that Fury used himself as a build-up for his boxing matches. His JAY-Z references are also on point and pretty clever, it’s just that there’s still not much to this past that and I’m left pretty underwhelmed with these releases from Dave, even if they’re not from that next album, whenever that’s coming.

#3 – “RAPSTAR” – Polo G

Produced by Einer Bankz and Synco

Well, Lil Tjay debuted at #2 a couple weeks ago so I guess it’s only fair for his fellow “Pop Out” rapper, and the one I personally immensely prefer, Polo G to have his surprise, kind-of-out-of-nowhere top 5 debut. Much like “MONTERO”, this track was being teased for nearly a year, having first been shown as an acoustic collaboration with professional ukulele player – yes, seriously – Einer Bankz, who’s also credited with production here, in May of 2020. Just shy of a year afterwards, we get “RAPSTAR”, in the same vein of other all-caps trap songs about musical success like “ROCKSTAR” or “POPSTAR”. Maybe next we’ll get “NEOCLASSICAL DARK WAVESTAR”. Regardless, this song is basically just about being epic and Polo G can effectively sell that even in his more basic flexing because of that intermittent detail like when he says the only woman he talks to is Siri, which isn’t even a brag or a flex, more a sad admission of his crippling loneliness which I don’t think was intended. He also does more than empty flexing, discussing his past drug addictions and how he coped with that alongside all of the struggles he had to overcome at the same time. That second verse may start with him saying he’s 2Pac reborn but it goes a lot deeper into his anxieties than I expected. All of this is over a melancholy guitar-based beat with some great bass and better mixing than is expected of these pop-trap singles, even if it’s still far from perfect. Those eerie vocal loops in the background add a lot to this song and I think that chorus has a pretty great build-up, even if the percussion may seem a bit too basic and uncomplicated as an effective drop. I can’t really complain about this at all, though, as it is really good for what it is and I’m glad it’s this high.

Conclusion

And with that, I’m finally, FINALLY finished with scouring through these new arrivals and I’ll admit that it was less of a mixed bag and more of a generally positive week, at least for me, as I found more I liked than anything I disliked, particularly with Best of the Week as that goes to twenty one pilots for “Shy Away”, with the Honourable Mention going to Ashnikko’s “Slumber Party” featuring Princess Nokia, although there’s a lot to praise on the charts this week. In terms of Worst of the Week, it’s probably going to go to Fred again.. and The Blessed Madonna for “Marea (We’ve Lost Dancing)”, with a Dishonourable Mention for, sadly, Dave’s “Mercury” featuring Kamal. I would like to note that Taylor Swift was awfully closer than she should be to getting that this week. Here’s this week’s top 10:

What to expect from this week? Gosh, I don’t know. AJ Tracey? Young Thug? Either way, we’ll see whatever happens to all this – whether it gets flooded out or they all end up sticking around – next week, so I’ll see you then. Thanks for reading.

[lovemesomesurveys]

What is the closest book to you? Forgiving What You Can’t Forget by Lysa TerKeurst. 

Are you reading it or someone else? I'm reading it. It’s the book for the Bible study I’m currently doing.

What is the most expensive thing you own that plays music? My MacBook.

Do you have any siblings? If so, what are their names? I have two brothers. Ever wear colored contacts? No, I've never worn any kind of contacts.

What color is your hair? Naturally, it’s dark brown, but I’ve been dyeing it red the past 6 years.

What kind of shoes do you have on? I'm not wearing any shoes.

Do you like watermelons more or cherries? Watermelon. 

Do you like it when it rains? “I’m only happy when it rains, I’m only happy when it’s complicated.” Anyway, yes, I love when it rains. 

What was the last thing you bought? My brother’s birthday gift and something for me.

Do you get cold easily? No, I get hot easily.

Do you have a job? Nope.

Do you own a dictionary? No. I just use Google if I need to look up a word.

Do you like to mow the yard? I’ve never done it. I don’t have any interest in doing it. It would be hard for me to do as well.

Besides your mouth, where is your favorite spot to get kissed? Neck.

Who was the last person you ate with? My mom.

Did you take a nap at all today? No, it’s only 12:45AM. I took a nap yesterday, though.

Who was the last member of the opposite sex you laid in a bed with? No one.

What color is your father’s car? Green.

Where’s the last place you wore a hoodie to? To my doctor’s office.

Are your nails painted any special color? They’re not painted at all. I haven’t painted them in years.

Give us your plans for the next three hours? Right now I’m doing surveys and listening to ASMR. In about an hour or so I’ll probably make my usual nightly bowl of ramen and catch up on some YouTube videos while I eat. Then I’ll go back to surveys and ASMR.

Can you live a day without TV? Yeah, easily.

Have you ever had a best friend who was of the opposite sex? Yes, a few.

Do you prefer broccoli or asparagus? Broccoli all the way. I don’t like asparagus.

Do you have any complaints about your life? “Hey, wait, I got a new complaint.”  

Where was the last place you stayed over? A hotel last year.

Skim, 1%, 2%, or whole milk? None of those, I use vanilla almond or soy milk. Lately, I’ve been really into the Almond Breeze vanilla milk that has a hint of honey in it.

Are you reading any books right now? Yeah, I’m reading two: “Autumn’s Game” by Mary Stone and “Forgiving What You Can’t Forget” by Lysa TerKeurst. 

Now what are you listening to? I’m still listening to ASMR.

Do you have any bug bites? Nope.

Do you have any flowers in your room? No.

Do you know anyone that owns horses? No.

When was the last time you used one of those temporary public toilets? Are you referring to a porta potty? Never.

Do you live anywhere with any interesting landmarks? Not in my city particularly, but yeah my state has a lot.

When you were little, did you ever go to feed the ducks? Yes. When I got older I learned you shouldn’t do that, though.

When was the last time you visited the zoo? Did you get to feed any of the animals? About 5 years ago, I think. I got to feed a giraffe, which was awesome.

Would you ever want to own one of those little teacup pigs? No.

Do you like the taste of champagne, or do you think it’s a bit overrated? I didn’t care for it.

Given the chance, would you take a trip into outer space? Nooo. Just the idea of outer space creeps me out. I can’t even look at pictures. 

Have you seen any of the seven wonders of the world in person? No, sadly. 

Do people ever try and start poke wars with you on Facebook? That hasn’t been a thing in over a decade. 

What’s a restaurant that you won’t ever eat at again? This Mongolian BBQ place I used to love just because I can’t eat spicy food anymore. :( 

Did you have your morning coffee this morning? Or do you not like coffee? I haven’t gone to bed, yet, but I absolutely will have my coffee after I get up later. That’s a given.

Do you ever let scary movies get to you, and end up scaring yourself? Nah, not anymore. I love ‘em.

Is there someone you know that is absolutely repulsive? No.

Are you tired from last night? I’m always tired. 

Do you have over 400 songs on your iPod? Are all of your songs good? I definitely had more than 400 songs on my iPod. I couldn’t tell you the exact amount cause it’s been stored away and unused since like 2012, but yeah. Well yeah, they were all good to me hence why I had them on there.

Do you eat randomly, just whenever the hell you want? Yeah.

Did you have trouble getting up this morning? Like I said, I haven’t gone to bed yet. However, I always have a hard time getting up so I could just say yes to this question now. 

What’s a few things that automatically make you go, “Awwwe”? My doggo just existing, basically. haha. Do you have soft hands? Do you like holding hands? My hands could use some moisturizer. And yes, but I get self-conscious because my hands get clammy a lot.

Have you ever burnt a food, and make the whole house smell gross? Yeah. Why does burnt popcorn smell so awful? You wouldn’t think something like that would have such a strong, gross smell. I know I’ve had that happen with some other microwave food, too.

If so, what was the food you burnt while cooking? ^^^

Wouldn’t it be awesome if you had your own personal jet pack? This reminds me of a random dream a friend of mine had several years ago (that I still remember for some reason) where she said I had a jet pack and used that to get around instead of my wheelchair, lol. Suuuuper random, but apparently it stuck with me all this time.

What’s your opinion on perfumes that are REALLY expensive? Do you like them? I mean, there’s some really nice smelling expensive ones for sure, but I just couldn’t bring myself to spend a ton of money on something like a perfume. Everyone has their thing and that’s fine, but that wasn’t one of mine. Name a thing that melts in your mouth that you love: Walkers shortbread cookies do when I dip them in my coffee. They’re so good. Do you like roasting marshmallows? Can you toast one perfectly? I do, but I haven’t had much experience doing so. 

Have you ever burnt your tongue like REALLY bad? If so, what on? Yeah, with really hot coffee, really hot cheese on pizza, ramen that wasn’t cooled down enough, Pizza Rolls, Hot Pockets... 

Do you like having random power naps now and then? I wouldn’t say I like them, but sometimes sleep just wins and I give into them.  I just always feel groggy and more tired after a nap. 

Is your hair soft? Do you ever brush it at work or school? Yeah. I used to carry a travel brush in my bag when I was in school and used it sometimes if needed.

What do you think about lip gloss? Do you ever wear lip gloss? I like how it looks, especially a tinted one, but I didn’t wear it often. It’s been a long time since I’ve worn lip gloss.

Are you currently worried about your parents finding out about something? No.

Don’t you hate it when your drink is too hot to drink? I want my coffee to be really hot, but yeah I get impatient ha.

What’s the coolest thing you’ve ever made in a metal/wood work class? I made a simple doll house. It was super basic, but still.  

Do you like concerts? If so, do you like being in the mosh pit? Yesss. Concerts have such a cool energy and vibe. I love singing (shouting) along to the songs and just having a good time. It’s been over a decade since my last concert. :( And no, I never went in a mosh pit. That would not be my idea of a good time at all. I imagine getting claustrophobic, overheated, and hit and shoved. 

Do you like a lot of dairy products? What’s one of your favorites? I love cheese. I’m lactose intolerant, but thankfully cheese doesn’t seem to bother me. I’ve actually read a lot of people who are lactose intolerant can handle cheese. 

Have you ever “liked” two guy best friends at the same time? Yes.

Who can you trust more secrets with, a best guy friend or a best girl friend? It wouldn’t matter what gender they were.

Where are the best cinnamon buns made? Do you love cinnamon buns? Cinnabon from my experience. Mmm, that sounds so good right now.

Have you ever had a REALLY bad rug burn? Did someone drag you? No. Those look and sound so painful, ow.

Do you think pasta and salad go good together? What’s your favorite in mind? Spaghetti and salad do. I love mixing them together. I eat my spaghetti with ranch anyway, so it doesn’t bother me.

Do you like going go-karting in the summer? Do you floor it when driving? I’ve never been.

Did you like eating Happy Meals at Mcdonald's as a kid? Yeah. I remember how exciting it was to be able to get McDonald’s, haha. And if you were the kid who got to have McDonald’s for lunch at school, you were so envied.

You can go to any restaurant; what restaurant, and what do you order? Wingstop. I’d order my usual, boneless garlic parm and lemon pepper wings, fries with extra parm seasoning, and a couple sides of ranch.

Have you ever sat on the computer for more than 4 hours? Uh, countless times. Even longer than that.

Do you ever go on youtube and browse and look for new songs? No, I don’t use YouTube for that.

Do you have a brother who is quite the video game fanatic? He’s not a video game fanatic, but he has some favorites.  Are you a video game lover? Whats your all time favorite video game? I wouldn’t say that, but there are those I like. Mario Bros anything, really. I was into this series called Life is Strange and Life is Strange 2 a few years ago. I’ve also been playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons on the Switch for the past year.

When your cat stares at you, do you stare back? I don’t have a cat, but I do that to my dog sometimes.

What grandparents are better, the ones on your mom's or dad's side? I was closer to my maternal grandparents, who sadly have both passed away, but I wouldn’t say either set of grandparents are better. I just had a different relationship with them. I have a good relationship with my paternal grandparents as well.

Do you like to have cake on your birthday? Which kind of cake in mind? Sometimes I’ll opt for cheesecake. 

What is your absolute ALL time favorite song at the moment? I don’t have a current particular favorite at the moment. I haven’t been listening to music lately.

Do you like drinking Mochas? (Hot Chocolate and Coffee together): I like white chocolate mochas. Peppermint white chocolate mochas, especially.

Do you ever get random headaches? If so, why do you think the reason is? Yeah. *shrug* It’s just one of those things that happen.

Have you ever seen your mom cry? Is it hard for you to see your mom cry? Yes, several times. Anytime I’ve seen her cry it just hurt my heart and made me really upset, too. 

Are you sick and tired, of being sick and tired? I really, really am.

What’s your favorite cereal? Did you ever eat the cereal Trix? All the sugary ones, basically. ha. And yes, I like Trix.  Are you allergic to anything REALLY weird? Do you know someone who is? I’m allergic to tangerines, which seems pretty random. Do you like Oreo cookies? Or are chocolate chip ones better…? I like both, but my favorite cookies are sugar and shortbread.

Are you a fan of spicy foods? What’s the spiciest food ever in your opinion? I used to be back when I could eat spicy foods. I was obSESSED. I can’t have it anymore, though. :(

#personal #text #survey #surveys

[vestedbeauty]

Go Outside and Play! (Yes, YOU)

New Post has been published on https://vestedbeauty.com/go-outside-and-play-yes-you/

Go Outside and Play! (Yes, YOU)

How many times did we hear it as kids? “Go outside and play!” (possibly followed by, “and don’t come home until the streetlights are on!”)

As a kid growing up in the seventies, getting to go outside and play - especially during the summer - was a huge part of life. We lived in a neighborhood with lots of kids. Many of the moms stayed home or were just easing they way back into the workforce. It was a different time.

Looking back, it’s no surprise that the moms wanted us out, out, out! In prior generations, parents didn’t really play with their kids. Kids played with kids. 

It may not have been perfectly safe. (OK, it was definitely not perfectly safe.) We did a lot of stuff that seems dangerous now:

Playing unsupervised in other kids’ homes

Tromping through the woods until we got lost

Skating on the little pond at the end of the street… even if the ice wasn’t thick enough

Riding our bikes (helmets? ha!) all over creation, usually without even telling anyone where we were going

We got sunburnt, ate junk food whenever the opportunity presented, and drank Kool-Aid made with a whole cup of sugar. I literally dreamt of bubble gum, packs of watermelon Bubbalicious and grape Bubble Yum so real I could taste it.

"Dangerous" But Fun

And at the end of a long, hot summer day, we slept like babies.

I don’t know how we learned so many games to play. There was no internet, of course, and I can’t imagine finding a book full of games at the library. Still, we played all the usual games (hide and seek, kill the guy with the ball, and kickball). But somehow we also found out about Red Rover, TV tag, freeze tag, SPUD, and four square. And we made a bunch up, too, like bicycle shop (turn it upside-down, crank the pedal as fast as you can, pretend to fix stuff using blades of grass and sticks). 

It’s like there was some invisible network between children, where vital information traveled without the assistance of media or adults. There was always some kid who knew stuff. That’s the one who gave everyone else the scoop on current events, like when “Mikey” ate pop-rocks and drank a Coke at the same time and died.

Friendships started because of proximity. Not everyone got along. There was the girl who cried way too much, the boy with the hair-trigger temper who was always fighting, the kids whose parents wouldn’t let them play with anyone in the neighborhood. Of course, there were the kids who were too little, who were dying to be invited to play. 

And there were the “big kids” who never seemed to come outside. Well, unless they were hanging out on the porch or by their pool (so jealous!) with their high schooler friends. We held those big kids in reverence. It seemed impossible to even imagine the same girl I saw kissing her boyfriend (ON THE LIPS!) ever sitting in the grass, trying to find the perfect blade to use for a whistle.

Playing Outside Isn't Just for Kids

And then, one day, we were the big kids. Outside wasn’t for playing - it was for transportation or chores, if anything.

Actually, it didn’t happen all at once. We had a few years’ span in our ages. But somewhere around the seventh-grade mark, our friend groups shifted from the neighborhood to the classroom. I remember discovering that I could have school friends come over to hang out. We might walk home from school together, but we’d spend our time indoors - or maybe walk to the 7-Eleven store up the road to buy a Diet Coke. Then back to the house to listen to records, make prank calls, watch General Hospital, and gossip. We got part-time jobs working indoors, at least all mine were. 

Then it was off to college. I went to Rutgers University, which is spread across five campuses (there are satellite campuses, but I never saw them). That meant lots of bus rides and tons of walking. At the time, I didn’t mind walking miles and miles each day - unless I was running late for class. It was just part of life. 

The yellow, orange, and red leaves on the trees in the fall semester were a stunning welcome to the first semester. I remember feeling especially alive and connected to… something… as I’d kick my way through piles of fallen leaves. The winters felt harsh, though. Duck boots were great for navigating ice, and they probably did wonders for thigh muscles because they were so heavy. But snow in New Jersey is really only nice for a few hours before it gets dirty and slushy. Not that fun to be outside then.

In graduate school, I only remember being outside to walk to class - or walk to work if I didn’t have a ride. At some point, I took up early morning walks to clear my head. It was South Hamilton, Massachusetts, and there may be no more beautiful spot than New England - especially in autumn.

Yes - that's NJ! The Delaware Water Gap is gorgeous, especially in autumn.

Adulting Is Better with Outside Time

After my ex graduated, we moved to Jackson, New Jersey, and I took a job at an accounting firm about an hour away (unless traffic was really bad). With two hours of commuting and eight hours in the office, plus weekends taken up by my role in his job (another post, another time), outside time became a memory. 

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Well, unless you count sleeping outdoors in our backyard on blankets because without air conditioning, our house was unbearable! (I always wondered if the neighbors knew - they had air!)

But I remember one day feeling like this entirely indoors existence felt like a rip-off. I bought some plants, seeds, and seedling trees, and started a tiny garden. I set an alarm to get up thirty minutes earlier and spent the extra time kneeling in the grass, hands in the dirt. 

The results shocked me. It felt like I had a life again. My mind wandered - even frolicked! - as I played in the soil. Something therapeutic happened as I pulled weeds. That outdoors time was mine alone.

Out with the Kids - But It’s Not Quite the Same

Soon, we started a family. I went part-time with my job, which meant two ten hour days in the office each week, plus several hours at home. On the days I was home, I loved nothing more than bundling my first baby up and going for a long walk in the neighborhood. We had an incident with some dogs that might have ended that practice (I love dogs, but this was scary). But I just switched routes. Then, a few months later, there was a truly horrific crime in our neighborhood. Never again would I feel safe letting my son (and my daughter who was born just a couple years later) play outside without my eyes on them.

I’d made some girlfriends who also had kids at the same time (there was a pregnancy pact - maybe a post for another day!). We loved taking the kids to parks, petting zoos, and a nearby lake. They’d play, we’d talk. These were some of my favorite days. 

But the world had changed. We moved a bunch, and there never seemed to be many kids in the neighborhood - certainly not playing outside. There were playdates, but they weren’t spontaneous. Kids never seemed to come calling, ringing the doorbell and asking if my kids could come out and play. I saw them becoming indoor-dwellers, and while it felt sad, it also seemed like the logical course.

Along the way, we’d moved to Florida. It’s hot. It’s humid. Most people seem to stay indoors unless they’re at the beach or poolside. I learned to take early morning walks with my dog. If we didn’t get home by about 6:30, it felt like walking in a steam bath. 

Freelancers Don’t Go Outside and Play

We needed money. I needed something creative to do - especially while the kids were at school. So, I started a freelance writing business. It took off quickly. Soon, I was working every minute the kids were at school. Then, the workload expanded and I worked when they got home, too. Then weekends. “Outside” was nothing more than the few feet between the front door and minivan door. “Playing” felt like frivolity. Working “all the time” was both a burden and a point of pride for me. I’d set my prices too low, and was too timid to raise them. For several years, I was the primary breadwinner. I felt so tightly-wound that I could barely remember feeling lighthearted, playful, or relaxed.

Let’s just fast-forward about a decade. Kids are grown. (I am astonished to learn my love, respect, and enjoyment of them has somehow gotten 100x deeper with time - didn’t think it was possible.) I’m in a new marriage, living in a little town outside Huntsville, Alabama. The freelance writing business is now an agency, and while I help steer it, I have a team who takes care of my clients. I also work full-time as the editorial director at Capitalism.com - a “job” I love with people I adore. 

Life gets busy. But having reached 53, I have gathered at least this piece of wisdom, which I practice daily: Go outside and play.

Playing no longer looks like choosing teams, running around, and flopping onto the grass. 

It looks more like sliding into my funky little rubber boots  tending my flock of backyard hens. It’s moving piles of mulch and preparing garden beds. It might be mowing. Or it could be an after-lunch walk with my hubby and the dogs. Sometimes, it’s just sitting outside on the porch, admiring the sunrise and sunset. When I miss a day, something is off. My best ideas come from time spent outdoors. I call it puttering. It’s good for the soul.

Go play outside. See what happens. I'd love to hear what you like to do outside, what joys you've discovered out there, and how often you make outside play part of your day.

Also...

I’ve been reading this book by Trevor Blake, called Three Simple Steps. (Trevor built and sold multiple businesses for hundreds of millions - starting in midlife! He also only works a few hours a day, and is a huge proponent of spending time outdoors.)  It’s one of the best things I’ve read in a long while. 

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#Go Outside and Play

[jesstastic]

I didn’t write any of this, just wanted to share it! THE BLOAT LIST (Here's the different types of bloat I tried over the years, and there result) STOMACH CAPACITY TRAINING: -Drink a large glass of water before, and after a big meal, it make each stuffing session much more intense -Eating a head of lettuce before a meal to expand the stomach: It's not very fun to eat, but it works very well! SPRITE AND BANANA Pretty good, resulting in a big solid belly. It creates a foam that doesn't go away instantly www.youtube.com/watch?v=kN9ife… Peoples doing Banana & Sprite are trying to drink a 2 liters bottle in one go, so of course, their little stomach reject it. Just try with a can and two bananas to begin, and work your way up each time. For this method, you can take it very slowly. COKE AND MENTOS: Use DIET COKE, it's more effective, youtu.be/iS2vG1o7Op4 , and don't put it in the fridge, it's easier to chug when it's not cold. Use ORIGINAL MENTOS (the fruit one doesn't work), or Excel/Eclipse Mints instead. They take MINUTES to disolve and keep releasing air! It's amazing! I use 710 ml, but if you have a large stomach capacity, you can try a 2 liters bottle -First, I put 2 mentos in my mouth. I quickly open the bottle and push the third of its content while I swallow as fast as I can. At this point, I'm inflated from the carbonation, and I can push my belly out and hear it sloshing around. The urge to burp is beginning -I wait a couple minutes, and do the same thing again. It produce a geyser in your mouth that you are trying to swallow immediately. (If the bottle was full, the pressure would make you spit everything out instantly) At this point, I'm full of air and the urge to burp is really strong. I lie down and wait for it to pass a minute, and let my stomach relax. -Finally, I put a last mentos in my mouth, and I chug the geyser until there's nothing left. At this point, I can't even push my belly out: the air is pushing to hard. Nothing is sloshing around: I'm maxed out. -Next: Now that my belly is stretched out, time for a big meal! If you could keep all the air in, your intestines will be full of gas, making a food inflation even more impressive. Note that I'm skinny and I see the effect immediately. If you have a layer of fat, the effect might be less visible. The key information here is to maximize the amount of air you swallow. I heard people says that they ingest several rolls of Mentos in a bloat, but you don't need that much. Just put one Mentos in your mouth and try to drink from a bottle of Coke which is not full (otherwise it will create a geyser). It will bubble up and you can swallow the foam quickly to ingest a massive amount of air. All that with just a single Mentos. Your stomach will get full rapidly. CAKE SHAKE: Blend a box of Betty Crocker Yellow Cake mix with a quart of milk, a little at a time so it doesn't cake up in the blender. (DON'T add eggs!) Drink that down. Then I drink two 8 oz. glasses of water as chaser, to stimulate the baking soda in the mix. (I'm a slim guy, so I used half a box and 750ml of milk) It's quite filling, leaving you big all day long: the reaction comes later (approx 10 hours). You will fart A LOT, as the chemical reaction happens. It kind of clog your system, while increasing your appetite and stomach capacity, so every meal will build up on top of that It wasn't painful at all, and quite delicious. As the day ended, I was fully bloated, 10 pounds heavier, with a belly stretch at my maximum (I couldn't even push my stomach out). It's really great, but it's not your typical 1 hour bloat. You have to be committed for an entire day, but it can be very, very effective (I can't even imagine doing the entire box). CHEMICAL REACTION: -Pop Rocks and Coke: One of my favorite. Tastes good and is not dangerous. It's great to hear the crackling noise in your stomach. I recommend. -Vanilla ice cream and root beer: like a root beer floater, it makes a lot of foam growing inside you. Really good and effective. -Swallowing whole Alka-Seltzer with water: It bloat you good, but it's an analgesic. Only do it when you have a headache. But it works. -Cook 4 packets of oatmeal, then chug 900mlof water: It expand in your stomach, but not very much -Baking Soda and Coke: It bloat you full of air quickly and strongly. It's a little disgusting and not very good for your system, but it works -Baking Soda and Vinegar: it create a violent foam expanding in your stomach, but it's disgusting (don't mix with Coke, trust me) FOOD/LIQUID: -Water Inflation (drinking): Heavy bloat, free, and you can reach your capacity quickly. Use it as a stomach stretcher before a big meal. -Seltzer water: the carbonation will inflate your stomach without the sugar and caffeine of Coke (HEALTHY!) -Diet Pepsi ans Chocolate Milk: A lot of calories, it really bloats you heavily for a long time. Drink the Pepsi, then chug the chocolate milk. -Ramen stuffing: it expand a little in the stomach, but not enough to be an inflation method. -Mashed potato powder: a guy on a forum said it works for him, it was disgusting and impossible to swallow -A tube of raw cookie dough: I never thought I would say this, but it's too sweet. Half a tube and I had more than enough. It doesn't expand that much -Drink half solid bowl of Jell-o: it works, and will have more chance to stay in your stomach, even in large volume -Uncooked Pancake mix: I've tried it, but I don't remember the results, I'll have to do it again -Half-cooked rice: Eating rice that is still a little crunchy will makes you extremely gassy for a whole day... Be careful! -Eat a big watermelon: A big hard bloat, cheap and good for you! BLOAT BY GAS: (that one differ from one person to another, but try it out first): -Fiber One Bars. Eat 4 bars or more, and you'll get a gigantic bloat and fart all day long! -Kombucha Tea (named "Rise" where I live). It's as fizzy as alcohol, can leave you seriously bloated if you drink a lot -Lentils, dry beans, chilli ENEMAS: -Water Inflation (enema): The best one to feel full to the max, but, a lot of trouble to setup up and you can't keep it in for long -Whipped Cream Enema: the compressed air from the air will inflate you up. You may need more than one can. Bloatedboy9 made a tutorial here youtu.be/wtOKP4XtuTs -Inflation with soda carbonation: great idea, you drill a hole in the cap of a coke bottle, use a tube that goes in your rear, and you just have to shake the bottle to produce carbonation that will inflate you. ChubbyInflator had the idea here: youtu.be/7KntaByRIgI AIR INFLATION -Painful afterward, and dangerous if you go too far. You can try it, but other bloats on this lists are much more pleasant. Each time I did it, it ruined my day with cramps and pain. I personally prefer more candid bloats that you can just burp and go back to your normal activities. BUT, if you like incredibly loud and long fart (which I don't really), it's the perfect way to inflate. The best is to use an aquarium pump (slow and steady flow) with the tube going in your butt, or pumps like a bicycle pump. Careful, you have to go slowly to prevent intestine rupture, and you absolutely have to stop if you begin to feel pain. Do at your own risk. SHOWER BLOAT: A thing I do often, while in the shower, I catch a small portion of the jet with my mouth, and I begin to swallow endlessly. The goal here is to swallow more air than water, to inflate your stomach to the maximum. At one point, I'm so full of air that my throat don't allow me to swallow anything more. (You could just drink water, but when you reach your maximum capacity with water only, you'll probably vomit. With this technique, you'll just have a gigantic belch, and then be OK. You could also just try to swallow air, but I find it hard to do without something in my mouth) I didn't try yet: -A gallon of milk -After a meal, take 1/4 cup of Metamucil, the fiber with bloat you -Yeast bloat, instructions on pyrotvfun profile page, or the instructions from pineapples123 I received on DeviantArt: "1.5 oz of yeast in a water bottle that i drank a little out of, plus some koolaid mix for flavor and some sugar to feed the yeast. leaving the warm laptop on my stomach makes it almost feels like its growing so quick. chugged about a liter of sweet tea afterwards to clean my throat, so I'm already feeling a bit full." (I wouldn't try it, it may be dangerous) -Water through nasogastric tube (that seems dangerous too) TIPS: -For a big liquid bloat, use those large straw for shake or slosh. You'll drink a large amount of liquid in no time! -To try once: buckle a belt tighty below your pec or in the middle of your stomach before a bloat, the inflation will be more intense, and your belly will push out even more! -How to suppress the need to burp after a bloat: Close your mouth and only breath through your nose. Wait a couple minutes, and your stomach will relax, expand and adapt to its fullness. It helps to make the best of coke and mentos bloats, where your stomach is full of air SUGGESTION? PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT! :-) If you want to encourage me for doing more morphs, you can donate will PayPal at [email protected]

[prettylittlesestras]

a chance encounter

“Kady?”

Kady turned her head just in time to see a familiar face walking into the bar and quickly approaching.

“Julia Wicker. How long has it been? Two years?” Julia and Kady had been roommates years ago at Brakebills, but neither girl had been able to get in contact with the other since Kady left the school. At first, Kady didn’t want to talk to anyone from Brakebills. She decided to leave Brakebills for many reasons, and although it had been the right choice, it didn’t mean that she didn’t hurt every day because of it. She kept her distance because talking to her friends at Brakebills would only make the pain of leaving sting much more than it already did. After the initial shock of being back on her own in the real world, she longed for the movie nights, endless laughs, and all-night, spell-casting study sessions that she and Julia had. In the time that they had known each other, they had become the best of friends. After countless failed attempts at contacting each other, they both eventually gave up and tried to move on.

“It’s been way too long.” Julia smiles and pulls up a chair beside Kady. Seeing Kady again, she is forced to remember the heartbreak she felt two years ago when she found out that Kady left Brakebills. She remembers how it felt like a piece of her was missing as she walked to class alone, and she can’t forget every sleepless night she suffered through, laying awake wondering if Kady was okay. She remembers how every time she opened the door to their room, her heart plunged into her stomach as she was hit again and again with the realization that her best friend was gone. 

Remembering the bad times is easy, but remembering the good times comes even more effortlessly. Julia’s mind is flooded with a multitude of happy memories including long walks around campus and their weekend trips to a bar much like the one they’re sitting in now. Although she had plenty of great memories with Kady, remembering the good times hurt almost as much as remembering the bad. As much as she’s tried, Julia can’t forget the nights they stayed up all night talking. They’d talk for hours about anything and everything. Nights turned into mornings; sitting turned into laying, and laying turned into cuddling for what little sleep they managed to get before class. Kady always talked about how much she hated cuddling, but she was notorious for climbing into Julia’s bed and snuggling up next to her. Julia had wanted to call her out on it, but she loved seeing Kady like that, completely at ease.

Thinking back on the time they spent together, Julia can’t shake the feeling that there was more between them than just friendship. Julia told Kady her deepest secrets, and Kady had told Julia that she was the only person in her life with whom she could let down all of her walls and simply just be Kady. Julia was her truest self around Kady, and she knew Kady felt the same. When she had had a little too much to drink or in the early hours of the morning, Kady always became touchier and much more loving with Julia, but Julia always brushed it off. ‘There’s no way Kady feels that way about me. I’m just projecting,’ Julia would think. She pushed her feelings down into the deepest depths of her mind, desperately hoping that if she just kept pushing, her feelings would eventually disappear. Tonight was no different. The moment she stepped into the bar and saw that head full of curly, brown hair, she tried to ignore the feelings she’d fought so hard to abandon years ago. She was back with her best friend, and she wouldn’t complicate that by bringing up thoughts of what might’ve been.

Julia flagged down the bartender and ordered a beer for herself and another for Kady. The two talked for hours, but to Julia, it felt like only minutes. Julia looked down at her watch and was surprised to see how late it had gotten.

“I really should be getting home. It’s so late, and you probably have an early day tomorrow,” Julia said while standing up from her barstool. 

“We really should get together again soon. I’ve missed this–us. I’ve missed you,” Kady said quietly, remaining seated. Julia walked slowly to the door. 

“Julia wait–”

Julia turned around to see Kady getting out of her barstool to follow after her.

“Do you want to go somewhere with me? I don’t want to say goodbye so soon after being apart for so long, and I have something I want to show you,” Kady said with a sigh.

“I’d love to,” Julia muttered, almost too delighted to squeak out a response. Kady took her by the hand and led her to her car.

Julia couldn’t wipe the smirk off of her face as she sat in the passenger seat of Kady’s car. The all-black interior was typical Kady, but what surprised Julia was the scent of watermelon radiating from her air freshener.

“What are you smiling about?” Kady asked with a laugh.

“Watermelon? Really? You never let me light my watermelon candles in our room without giving me hell about it,” Julia replied, smiling even bigger than before.

Kady rolled her eyes. “You loved watermelon, though. Back at school, I couldn’t escape it. Your shampoo, your lotion, and all of those candles you insisted on placing on every flat surface in our room. I thought I’d never be able to chew a piece of watermelon gum again, but after I left, I don’t know. I guess I missed it. I bought a watermelon air freshener for my car a couple weeks after leaving Brakebills because it reminded me of you, and I guess I just never stopped. Two years and eighteen packs of car fresheners later, and here I am.”

Julia laughed. ‘Same old Kady,’ she thought. She was somehow so different but still so much the same.

Kady put the car into reverse and backed out of the parking spot. It took about ten minutes to get to their destination, but the ride was nice; It was like old times. Kady drove quietly while Julia hummed the tune of every song that came on the radio. Kady couldn’t help but smile as she watched Julia. It didn’t matter that it had been over two years since they had seen each other. Things fell right back into place for the two of them. 

“Are we going where I think we’re going?” Julia asked as she stared out the window in disbelief.

“You’ll see. We’re almost there,” Kady said, grinning as she looked over at Julia. Kady parked the car and got out, and Julia followed, even in the darkness knowing exactly where they were.

“Wow. I haven’t thought about this place in years,” Julia beamed. She walked around the park, remembering the weekly trips the two of them had made more than two years prior. Not much had changed. There were a few more flowers here and there, and a new swing or two had been added, but all things considered, the park looked generally consistent with how Julia remembered it. The big oak tree that the two sat under to study still stood in the middle of the park, looking slightly bigger than Julia remembered.

“I come here a lot,” Kady said quietly. “It’s peaceful and helps me to remember the times when we were back at Brakebills and everything was simple.” Kady started to walk down the hill towards the lake at the edge of the park, so Julia followed. They got to the dock and sat down, their feet dangling over the water. The two sat in silence for several minutes just watching the moonlight bounce off the lake. Julia laid down on her back to look up at the stars, feet still swaying back and forth above the water. Kady laid down beside her, and Julia couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so at peace. For the first time in months, maybe even years, everything in her life seemed to be right where it was supposed to be.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Julia asked, staring up to the stars and breaking the silence. Kady didn’t answer but instead smiled and placed her hand in Julia’s. The warmth of Kady’s hand in hers spread through Julia’s body like a shot of whiskey. Kady turned over onto her side, staring at Julia and looking as if she wanted to say something but not knowing exactly what she wanted to say. Julia mirrored her movements and waited. She was in no rush to make Kady say what was on her mind. Julia knew that Kady always needed time to collect her thoughts before speaking about something that was bothering her; everything would come out in due time.

“Julia, I just—,” Kady whispered, stopping abruptly. She shook her head as if to remove the thought from her mind. She looked back up at the sky for a moment, but then turned back over and cupped Julia’s cheek with her hand. She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Julia’s lips.

Kady pulled back and Julia’s heart beat rapidly in disbelief. Kady looked at Julia and quickly added, “I’m not really good with words, but I’ve wanted to do that for years.” Julia laughed and pulled Kady in for another kiss, reveling in the one thing she’s wanted for so long. Julia couldn’t stop herself from smiling, partly because she just kissed her best friend, someone she’s only ever dreamed about kissing, and partly because she could still taste the watermelon lip gloss from Kady’s lips.

#this is the first fic ive ever written so take pity on me if its terrible #i just have lots of feeings about wickoff #wickoff #the magicians #julia wicker #kady orloff diaz #theyre in love #dont tell me any differently #wickoff fic #prettylittlesestras #a chance encounter #my fics

[violetopals]

Get to know me uncomfortably well! :D

1. What is you middle name? I actually don’t have one! :D 2. How old are you? As of today 27 3. When is your birthday? In August 4. What is your zodiac sign? Leo 5. What is your favorite color? Oh so many. I love me some midnight blue. 6. What’s your lucky number? 4 7. Do you have any pets? Yep, a dog named Ronnie, a rabbit named Merle and as of today apparently a rat baby foundling that doesn’t have a name yet. 8. Where are you from? The Rhineland Palatine area in southern Germany 9. How tall are you? 163 cm or 5′5″ 10. What shoe size are you? 38 in Europe, a 5 in the US 11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? 6. 2 pairs of boots, 2 pairs of chucks, 2 pairs of heels. My boyfriend has three times as many :D 12. What was your last dream about? I honestyl don’t remember, I usually have several dreams a night and I rarely rememeber in detail 13. What talents do you have? I was born with an active absolute pitch which makes music and singing easy peasy for me :D 14. Are you psychic in any way? I had contact with a ghost, but otherwise, no. 15. Favorite song? Literally hundreds. 16. Favorite movie? Pride and Prejudice (2005) 17. Who would be your ideal partner? My boyfriend ♥ duh 18. Do you want children? Yes, in the next couple years 19. Do you want a church wedding? Nope, not religious 20. Are you religious? See above 21. Have you ever been to the hospital? Once, due to a Bell’s palsy 22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? Nope 23. Have you ever met any celebrities? Nope 24. Baths or showers? Baths all the way 25. What color socks are you wearing? Always colourful and with cute motifs. Currently they’re turquoise with bears 26. Have you ever been famous? Nope 27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? Nope 28. What type of music do you like? Almost all except for country and hip hop 29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? Nope 30. How many pillows do you sleep with? One 31. What position do you usually sleep in? On the side 32. How big is your house? 3-bedroom apt 33. What do you typically have for breakfast? At home I usually skip it, at work I have a sandwich and a bit of fruit 34. Have you ever fired a gun? Yes, my father frequented a shooting range 35. Have you ever tried archery? Yes 36. Favorite clean word? Ocean 37. Favorite swear word? F*ck 38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? 2 days 39. Do you have any scars? Several 40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? Yes,a stalker 41. Are you a good liar? Yes, but I adopted radical honesty as a personal policy when I was 14 42. Are you a good judge of character? Usually, yes 43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? Oh yeah I always blend in with foreign accents xD 44. Do you have a strong accent? I usually speak English with a British accent 45. What is your favorite accent? British, Scottish, Australian 46. What is your personality type? Witchy, gothy but bubbly and sweet :D 47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? A necklace with moonstones I bought at a Renaissance fair 48. Can you curl your tongue? Yep 49. Are you an innie or an outie? Both 50. Left or right handed? Righty 51. Are you scared of spiders? Oh hell yeah 52. Favorite food? Watermelon, Sushi, BBQ 53. Favorite foreign food? Japanese, Chinese, Thai 54. Are you a clean or messy person? Rather messy I’m afraid 55. Most used phrase? “Shots fired!” 56. Most used word? Probably f*ck :D 57. How long does it take for you to get ready? Depends if I have to hurry or not. If yes, 5 mins, if not 30 mins 58. Do you have much of an ego? Not really 59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? Lick, wtf?! Oo 60. Do you talk to yourself? All the time :D 61. Do you sing to yourself? Yes 62. Are you a good singer? Yes 63. Biggest Fear? Dying alone 64. Are you a gossip? Not really, none of my business 65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? Pride and Prejudice, the Duchess 66. Do you like long or short hair? Long 67. Can you name all 50 states of America? Hell no :D 68. Favorite school subject? English, German, History, Music, Biology 69. Extrovert or Introvert? Very much Extrovert 70. Have you ever been scuba diving? Nope 71. What makes you nervous? Interviews and exams :D 72. Are you scared of the dark? No 73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? Sometimes. I’m a teacher, I can’t help myself :D 74. Are you ticklish? Hella. 75. Have you ever started a rumor? No, my name ain’t Allison Hargreaves. 76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? Yes. 77. Have you ever drank underage? Yes, but I never liked alcohol. It was always just tasting. 78. Have you ever done drugs? Nope. 79. Who was your first real crush? Han Solo. 80. How many piercings do you have? As of today, 2. 81. Can you roll your Rs?“ No! 82. How fast can you type? So-so. 83. How fast can you run? Not at all :D 84. What color is your hair? Red 85. What color is your eyes? Green 86. What are you allergic to? Bullsh*t :P 87. Do you keep a journal? No, but I want to take it up 88. What do your parents do? My mum’s a goldsmith, my father’s an optician. 89. Do you like your age? Oh well. It’s fine. 90. What makes you angry? Stupid people 91. Do you like your own name? Eh, I’m used to it. As a kid I used to hate it. 92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? Oh so many. I love Matilda and Violet as girl names and I like Dorian and Henry as boy names. 93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? Doesn’t matter as long as it’s healthy! 94. What are you strengths? Empathy, languages, music 95. What are your weaknesses? Empathy, maths 96. How did you get your name? My mum met a woman with the name as a girl and she loved it so much she remembered it for me 20 years later :D 97. Were your ancestors royalty? Maybe. The ancestry trail goes cold in the 1690′s France so far. 98. Do you have any scars? Didn’t we have this question? 99. Color of your bedspread? Currently red. 100. Color of your room? Plain boring white.

I nominate my followers! Let’s get to know each other :)