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ediths · 4 years

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Not Every Show Is Perfect - a tvfbsotm extra

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Harry messes up live for the first time in what seems like forever and he gets all broken up about it. Thankfully, you’re there to help him realize that one mistake doesn’t mean he’s horrible.

Warning(s): Sign of the Times (yes, the song. and yes, i think it deserves a warning), cursing, Harry being hard on himself, tears, fluffiness, not edited (sorry, i didn’t want to bother anyone!!)

A/N: This is yet another extra to The View From Both Sides of the Mirror that nobody asked for!!! (if you haven’t read that, you can read it here). This is the second extra that I have written for them!!! There will be two more (at least) <33

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It had been years since he had messed up on that song. He knew it like the back of his hand. He had poured his heart and his soul into writing it and then perfecting it for live performances. He knew exactly how to hit every single note. He knew how to hit the high notes without his voice cracking and he knew how to hit the lowest notes without it sounding strained He had practiced for hours on end - sometimes to the point where his throat was raw and his voice was scratchy -to make it sound beautiful every time that he sang it live.

You know this for a fact. Even though you weren’t close during Harry Styles: Live On Tour, he had complained about how he could never get ‘Sign Of The Times’ right. About how he felt like he wasn’t doing his best and that he would disappoint because he just couldn’t hit those pesky high notes on stage. You heard the way that his voice would go scratchy, how he would sound like he was fighting to swallow correctly, how he sounded like he was severely dehydrated even if he drank bottle after bottle of water.

It had been over three years since he had last performed it on tour, and you had to admit, you were worried that he would mess something up. Not because you didn’t think he could do it, you know that he can. You know that he’s perfectly capable of getting everything right every single time. It’s more so because you know if he messes this up, he’ll make himself feel awful for the rest of the show. And what’s not helping his case is the fact that he’s stressed out about the mere thought of not hitting the right notes.

Here he was, the first show of the tour. He looked ethereal on stage. The lights were shining from behind him and making him look purely angelic. There’s already sweat soaking his hair and dripping onto his forehead. You can’t help but admire him like this, when he looks like he has absolutely nothing to hide, like he’s having the time of his life.

This show is also the first one that he would be singing the song at, and you could tell from the very first high note he tried to hit that he would be down on himself after the show. You feel your heart sink to your stomach, hating the fact that there’s nothing that you can do to help him get through this song without there being any mishaps.

The first time that his voice cracks, you visibly grimace, knowing what’s going on in his head. Knowing the self degrading thoughts that are whirling through his brain at a million miles per hour.

Your thoughts were only confirmed when he looked over at you. You can already see the self loathing overtaking his features, the way that his face isn’t as bright anymore.

You know that he’s calling himself everything he can think of. That he’s fighting the urge to stop, to give up and call off the whole thing. You know that he’s being more malicious to himself in this moment than he ever has been to anyone else. You’ve heard the things that he tells himself aloud as he’s getting undone from the show in the dressing room enough times to know exactly what he’s thinking.

“How did I mess something so simple up that bad?”

“I shouldn’t even be performing.”

“This is going to ruin the show. All these people are going to have a horrible night and it’s all my fault.”

“I’m so fucking pathetic.”

“Nobody’s here to see me fuck it all up.”

“Can’t I do anything right?”

You want to run on the stage, to hug him and let him know that every thought he’s having is incorrect. You want to reassure him, tell him that he’s perfect, that one wrong note doesn’t mean that he’s awful. Everything in you wants to take him away from this moment, to get his mind off of it. There’s no way for you to do that, though, and the both of you know that.

You also know that the reason he’s not looking at you nearly as much as he normally does is because each time he does, it makes it harder to stay on that stage when he could be in the comfort and safety of your arms.

After the song’s over, he looks over at you again and gives you a small, sad smile. You know that he’s hurting inside, that he’s beating himself up. Unfortunately for the both of you, he had just started the concert less than two hours ago. He’d be there for at least two more.

The moment the encore is over, he’s rushing off the stage and flinging himself in your arms.

“Hey baby.” You greet him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You run your hands through his sweaty hair.

“Need you love.” He brokenly whimpers. You instinctively hold him closer. A few people come over to congratulate him about the show, but they can tell by the state that he’s in that he’s not really up to talking much.

“I’m right here. I’ve got you.” If you thought your heart was hurt due to this before, it was shattered now, ripped into a million little pieces by the tears that begin to fall onto your skin. “Come on, let’s go to our room. Is that alright, darling?”

He pulls back enough to wipe his eyes and say a vague goodbye and thank you to the crew. The moment that the two of you are in the elevator, however, he’s right back in your arms. He clearly needs to be held right now, and there’s nothing that you’d rather do than comfort him.

Before long, the lift comes to a halt and the doors slide open.

You pull away slightly but still keep his hand in yours. You lead him to the hotel room and swipe the keycard. The moment that you’re inside the room, he lets out a broken sob that you know he’s probably been holding for the duration of the show.

You immediately pull him into your arms and let his weight fall into you. Slowly, as to not disturb him too much, you back up to the bed so that you can lay with him and properly give him the cuddles that he needs.

Once the back of your knees hit the mattress, you let yourself fall back. You’re still holding onto him, so he comes toppling down on you, but you don’t mind. You both shuffle slightly to get comfortable, and you think that his sobs are getting a little quieter. You’re proven wrong, however, when he buries his head into your neck again and fresh tears wet your skin.

You run one hand through his hair while the other rubs circles into his back. “Shh, it’s okay baby. Let it all out.”

He takes a deep breath and you can hear the shake that finds its way into the sound. You grip him tighter and try to make him feel as safe as he possibly can.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You mumble as you press a kiss to his head.

“I’m so pathetic.” He cries, and your heart breaks again.

“No you’re not, H. You’re not even close to pathetic.” You try to soothe him, although you know that there’s no way just that fixed anything

“Y/N, it’s the simplest song. I’ve had that song for years and I still mess it up? That’s pretty pathetic.” he struggles to get the words out but you know exactly what he’s saying. It’s the same thing that he’s been convincing himself to think every time that he so much as messes up a single note in ‘Sign Of The Times’.

“Harry, listen to me.” You pause and wait for him to lift his head and meet your eyes. Once he does, you continue. “It’s not your easiest song. It’s one of your hardest. Please realize that anyone would mess up that song. You did amazing.” You continue to run your hand through his hair and he leans further into your touch. “You’re amazing. Please remember that baby.”

“I’ll try. It’s just hard sometimes.” He mumbles.

“I know. I just want you to be happier with yourself.” You move your hand so that it’s cupping his cheek and begin to run the pad of your thumb over his cheekbone.

“I’m sorry.” He pulls away slightly.

You grab onto him to keep him from moving any further. “Hey, why are you apologizing?”

He shrugs. “Feel like I let you down.”

“Baby, you didn’t let me down. I’m so proud of you!” You pull him back into you and he falls into your arms.

“Promise?”

You smile. “Promise.”

Thank you so much for reading!! Remember to reblog to share with others!!

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#Zoey Writes #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #Harry Styles #The View From Both Sides of the Mirror #2020 #i wanna love queue with the lights on

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youarejesting · 4 years

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BTS 365 Prompts

[Masterlist] Please tag me in your work if you use my prompts. I want to see your work. Ever your Jester.

Tell me your birthday and I will tag you on your special day!

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January 15th - 21st

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Kim Seokjin: Strawberry Ice cream

You were cleaning out the convenience store ready to close up for the night when the freezer door got stuck you panicked and tried to call one of the other two workers to come help you. realizing you were taking to long Seokjin threw open the door and stormed inside. Saying to hurry up as he wanted to get home but you shouted at him to hold the door but it swung shut behind him. Trying the door it was stuck once more the handle on the inside was broken. He scolded you for not telling him the door was broken. “You hardly gave me a chance you just barged in yelling at me to hurry up and acting like a grumpy old man”

“You think I am old!” he said taken back by your comment and quietened down. You sat for a while trying to stay warm, you reluctantly moved closer at the half an hour mark and by the hour your stomachs seemed to growl in chorus. You pulled open a tub of Strawberry Ice cream, it was the only flavor left and it definitely wasn’t your favorite. You laughed as Seokjin ate as well - you were using spoons you had made out of the cardboard from the lid - his face contorted.

“That’s disgusting” he whined as he took another scoop.

Min Yoongi: Nothing

Kicked out of home with nothing. No money, No phone and Nowhere to go. Yoongi was standing outside a small convenience store when he asked to borrow your phone, you nodded and leaned it to him as he looked absolutely desperate. He rang some friends begging for them to let him stay the night his stomach growling at the same time. On his sixth attempt from someone he seemed to barely no he gave up apologizing and handing back your phone.

“I have a spare bedroom” you said and he paused watching you and you looked down scuffing your feet with a small laugh “If it’s not weird and you promise you aren’t going to rob or kill me”

“It’s okay really” he protested and you hummed

“Well what if I said it wasn’t free, you see, I am not tall enough to change the light bulbs and two of my rooms the Light Bulbs need replacing and I want to buy a lot of groceries so if you help carry them I can try to make a semi edible meal. I suck at cooking but your welcome to join me in eating charcoal ramyeon”

“I can cook” he muttered and your eyes lit up and you told him he could stay for as long as he needed if he could cook.

Jung Hoseok: Benjamin Franklin @littlewolfieposts

“Daddy, I am suppose to wear a costume today remember, I old you and wrote it on your calendar like you asked” Huimang asked causing Hoseok to pause in the doorway, he hummed looking at his son up and down and almost had a melt down. “It’s okay daddy, I understand you are really busy”

He brushed past his father and walked to the car. Hoseok’s heart broke he had let his boy down. Taking a deep breath he sat in the car and told Huimang that after school they could do whatever he wants. You were greeting all the kids to class and you had a sneaky suspicion some of the kids would forget so you packed extra costumes behind the desk and you noticed a very upset Huimang and a very disappointed Hoseok.

“Mister Jung, the costume you ordered arrived in time for today” You lied threw him the packet, he looked at you with such relief as he helped his son get dressed.

“Daddy I knew you wouldn’t forget, after school I know what I want” Hoseok raised an eyebrow “I want to invite miss y/n over for dinner, I think she likes you and I know you like her, I heard you talking to uncle Yoongi about how she is a snack and you were so shook with how she has a snatched waist and it makes you thirsty AF and that, that is the real tea” Huimang grinned at his father hugging him before running off with his little key and kite trailing the floor behind him.

Kim Namjoon: Lunch swap

You packed a lunch for your crush Jaehyun at your best friends work. Your best friend was none other than Kim Namjoon who beamed as you arrived causing a strange nervous sensation in your tummy and a flutter in your heart. “How did you know I forgot my lunch today” He all but snatched the lunchbox from your hands and opened it and looked at the heart themed lunch box and he picked up the note with the love confession and you don’t know why but you ran as fast as you could out of the building.

Park Jimin: Popcorn

You were working at the Candy bar dressed in you red and white striped dressed with a cute apron and you were serving customers and helping them select their confectioneries. You were at war with the Popcorn boy, you had been competing since last year when he received Employee of the year breaking your winning streak. You had one every year for five years and he ruined it. He was so nice, and like you never had days off, you both came in no matter the weather and on short notice. It was late and you were covering for the other candy girl who had fallen sick which meant you had to work with him.

You were at peak time between 6-8 where most people decide they want to watch movies and they would panic trying to buy snacks before the movie starts. He ran into you spilling popcorn down your dress, leaving salt, butter and popcorn in places it shouldn’t be. You took it upon yourself accidentally trip and land an ice cream to the back of his head, he looked absolutely guttered. You felt guilty and hung your head as you continued serving, you were fetching two large drinks not noticing Jimin stepping over to your register to ring up the tab while you grabbed the rest of their things. You ran straight into his back splashing him with soda and apologizing profusely finishing the drinks and watching the last couple head into the cinema. His back you could see was well defined through his wet shirt and he turned. His eyes were dark and his lips pressed into a hard line.

Kim Taehyung: Penguin

“The fairy Penguins like to eat small fish like anchovies and on some occasions squid, krill and plankton. They fall in love with their special penguin and they stay together forever. But to make the girls fall in love with them, the boys have to be nice to the girls. And make them a pretty home for them to live in, so they make a burrow and they decorate it so they can live together.”

“Hey y/n” the thin boy with big ears and equally big grin called your name and you turned giving him a gap toothed grin your pigtails held together by the school regulated colored ribbon. “When we get older I will build us a house and we will live together forever okay, I will put everything you like inside”

“Okay” you smiled linking pinkies.

Jeon Jungkook: Squirrel Appreciation

Jungkook was your brother Yoongi’s best friend and you hated him by default. He always ate all the food in the house and lounged around on the couch and was generally just a pain. You stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel heading for your room, but you came face to chest with the much taller and toned Jungkook. His sleepy eyes widened, you pushed past him to your room so you could dress and curse him out. “If he wasn’t here this wouldn’t have happened?”

You opened your bedroom door ready to head down to the kitchen to eat before he did. At that exact moment he stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped low around his waist. Your eyes drank him up and down, before you turned away cheeks sporting a pink hue. He smirked at your retreating figure and the three of you ate breakfast in silence. You got lost watching Jungkook’s lips as he ate every now and then his tongue would peek out to swipe any food left behind. You giggled seeing his cheeks puffed like a Squirrel.

Next week

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lvckpicks-blog · 5 years

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( jung yoonoh, cismale, he/him, 24. ) — alexander "lex” khang, better known to the media as eros has been working for the yōkai for around six years. rumor has it, he can be ebullient & versatile but also cocky & licentious which is why he makes the perfect safe cracker.

you can find a picture of the mask he wears during heists HERE & HERE!! though he’s customized it so that the led lights change frequently.

hi wow hello!! i’m caitlyn, 24, she/her, cst timezone. and honestly?? i am in fucking AWE of every single one of you ?!!!!!! from the bottom of my heart, thank you for taking interest in this rp & for being as encouraging and positive as you have been. words cannot express how grateful i am for each and every single one of you ?!!! whenever this idea came to me, i didn’t think it would ever take off like it has & the out pour of love and support i’ve gotten is absolutely incredible. i could go on and on for hours about how much i seriously do appreciate it, but i’d turn into an emotional lil bitch and ain’t nobody got time for that so moving on !!

this is lex, he’s a mess and a half but honestly.... i can’t ever play characters that aren’t a trashy mess with an even worse backstory so here we GO!!! there’s some basic stats, bio, personality and basic af plot ideas under the cut so if you’d like to plot like this or hmu!!!

TW: mentions of alcohol & death. ( car crashes / house fires )

general information.

full name: alexander khang. nickname(s): alex, lex. date of birth: october 31st, 1994. age: twenty-four. nationality: korean. spoken languages: english, korean, chinese, japanese, french, spanish, german & russian. gender: cismale. pronouns: he / him / his. sexuality: bisexual. faceclaim: jung yoonoh ( jaehyun ) of nct.

background.

hometown: ulsan, south korea. current residence: tokyo, japan. financial status: upper class. occupation: safe cracker. family connections: tba.

extra information.

myers briggs: entp-a. ( the debater. ) enneagram: eight. ( the challenger. ) temperament: choleric. moral aligment: neutral evil. hogwarts house: slytherin. sin: wrath. virtue: pride. zodiac: scorpio. element: fire.

biography.

born and raised in korea.

parents spoiled him and his sister to death and made sure both of them had everything they needed to be happy.

however, whenever him & his sister were young, they lost their parents to a house fire and they were forced to go into the foster care system.

he wouldn't allow him & his sister to be separated, so they ended up being in the system for a long time until an american family took interest in both of them.

and before they even realized what was going on, lex & his sister were being shipped off to the states to meet their new family.

things were... different there, their new parents still spoiling them to death but everything around them was completely new and strange.

n bc of that, and because of the fact that lex couldn't communicate with his new parents, he began to rebel.

he started sneaking out of the house, breaking into places he shouldn't have been in.. going to parties even when he was underage and all sorts of things like that.

but he took an affinity to anything that had to do with picking locks, noticing that it kept his mind focused all while continuing to be able to 'rebel' in various sorts of ways.

after that, he focused on that, buying locks of all sorts until there wasn't a thing he couldn't break into.

however, the standard locks started to become boring, technology starting to be more and more prominent in the world so he started to teach himself how to hack as well.

not just into things, but how to 'pick' technologically advanced locks and everything like that.

he started to become so interested in that lifestyle, that he went to trade school for it.

but what he didn't expect was to meet someone there in the process, lex falling head over heels the second he laid eyes on them.

and god, he was smitten. ready to marry them within six months of meeting them. after proposing on a date and them saying yes, things were starting to kick into gear.

soon after, the wedding was planned and a date was set, but the wedding would never happen and lex wouldn't be able to spend the rest of his life with them.

his fiance was taken from him in a car accident, one he blames himself for to this day because they were headed to meet him to talk about the possibility of adopting a baby bc they couldn't have one & bc lex knew what it was like to be in the foster care system and wanted to be able to pull someone else out of that situation.

after that, alexander began to let his grief consume him, finding his home to be a bar stool at the nearest bar, drinking his sorrows away until someone practically had to carry him home.

that's when he met the mastermind of the crew, the other being nice enough to drive lex home from the bar one evening due to how intoxicated he was.

the mastermind happened to catch onto the fact that lex was very much into picking locks, into breaking into things that 'couldn't' be broken into and so he offered lex a job. quick money, no one would know it was lex at the end of the day and a reputation that'd soar for years to come.

it was then that lex's life started to turn around ever-so-slightly, becoming the best ( and only ) safe cracker that the yōkai had ever seen.

he started to grow happier, or so it seemed.

lex started to hide his grief, started to pretend he was just a happy-go-lucky goof ball on the outside while continuing to drink himself to sleep at night just to be able to get some sleep at all.

but he tried to control it as much as he could, tried to keep it inwards and not let it effect him or his job, and he never did.

alexander was/is a completely different person when he's on a heist & when the crew is all at HQ together.

the only person that knows about lex’s sister and fiance is the mastermind, though he does often send big chunks of his cuts to his sister so that his niece and nephew can remain happy, healthy and equally as spoiled as he and his sister were.

he doesn’t talk about his past life, nor does he really like opening up so very few people can see that there’s a grieving person behind the goofy exterior he tends to have.

personality.

hides behind a wall of sarcasm, cockiness, and lust.

doesn’t really care to get to know people and had a tendency to push people away before they get too close to him. because he really… doesn’t want to get hurt again & doesn’t want to put them @ risk.

but will also tease and mess with literally everyone.

wears glasses to read and mess w computers, but hates them a lot and probably won’t wear them if people are around.

is …. stubborn as hell and refuses to ask for help with anything.

his motorcyle and cars are literally his babies ??? like he ?? has a problem ??

a hotmess

loves halloween so much?? he gets so hype for that holiday it’s unreal.. even if it is his bday.

fluent in a lot of languages, picked them up so that he didn’t need translators for heists n such.

lowkey worried that people will figure out that he’s actually v hurt inside because that’ll cause him to start having to deal with his feelings again, and he doesn’t wanna do that.

is the biggest flirt you will ever meet?? like if he’s speaking 2 u… its usually flirty as hell unless it has 2 do w business or he’s just known u for centuries ?

will try to get everyone to go to bars n parties with him because that’s his life in a nutshell ??

hella nerd on the inside though like owns so many comic books, loves to play video games, read books, plays piano / violin & all that jazz.

super, super intelligent. could probably work @ nasa but instead he decided to do what he does & he honestly… ain’t complaining.

drinks..heavily.. like every night?? it’s a problem tbh.

he cares… god he cares so much about people and the world but he pretends to hate everything because it’s easier than letting people in.

full of horrible and cheesy pick up lines and jokes and frequently texts people said pick up lines and jokes.

owns a book that is full of nothing but blank pages and keeps it on his coffee table because he ‘relates’ to it.

is a highkey hoe but he keeps it on the dl

super into fitness as it’s a way to keep him away from drinking every evening. ( that doesn’t work lol )

loves boxing so much and can be seen at the gym quite a bit.. also has bruised knuckles 24/7 because of it as it’s a way to take out his aggression and feelings out on a punching bag?

speaking of… anger issues af. well... grief turned into anger.

actually super kind and caring once you’re able to see get past his wall?? which is really hard to do due to his job but if u do it he’ll cherish u.

has a bad habit of smoking whenever he’s stressed out, which is usually all of the time so he smokes…. more than he should.

highkey into cuddling and all the cute shit like that but would literally never tell a soul because then they’d see that he isn’t such a hardass.

is a burnt cupcake who has really good intentions but has extremely horrible execution skills. ( and no i don’t mean the violent kind bc he’s actually v good @ that )

plot ideas.

bad influence. ( on your muse. )

best friends.

childhood friend.

confidant.

current hook up(s).

drinking buddies.

drunken hook up.

enemies that used to be friends.

enemies.

exes who ended on bad terms.

flirtationship.

frenemies.

friends that used to be enemies.

friends with benefits.

good influence. ( on lex. )

hate sex.

one night stand(s). ( past & present. )

partner in crime.

party buddies.

past hook up(s).

ride or die.

trouble makers.

unlikely friends.

#heists:intro #this is a mESS #just like lex & myself #❝ ✦ ◜ᴅᴏ ɴᴏ ʜᴀʀᴍ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɴᴏ sʜɪᴛ.◞ — OUT OF CHARACTER.#love him n his messy self pls n thank u #ily all #alcohol tw #car crash tw #house fire tw #idk if that's a thing or not but #just to be safe

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the-ships-to-rule-them-all · 5 years

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Puck it chapter 4 liveblog

btw @bipercabeth @jasonsmclean enjoy <333

under the cut because this is going to be long af

He doesn’t want Jason to think he doesn’t respect Annabeth, but he also doesn’t want to break his promise to her. But that promise is already broken. Jason already knows. And Percy really can’t handle the thought of Jason thinking he doesn’t respect women. “You have feelings for her, don’t you?” Jason asks, his tone a bit lighter, eyes a bit softer. Percy sighs and the words rush out of him on the exhale. “Yes I do Jason I’m so fucked please help.”

ME SCREAMING A LOT!!!!!!!!!!! they matter so much to each other omg. and Percy having loyalty to Annabeth even in this, I am DECEASED

A sigh falls past Jason’s lips; his shoulders deflate and he ducks his head with a slight nod. “I figured, but I also figured I need to say it straight up. I can’t get mad about you not telling me when I’ve been keeping this from you.” “Trying to keep this from me.” Percy takes a risk and grins slightly. “I’ve known for a while now. But I appreciate the honesty. I don’t want this to be something we fight over. We’re better than that.”

DARLING IDIOT CO-CAPTAINS WHO ARE BEST FRIENDS

That’s… a lot of ‘no’. But I respect the last one. I’m glad you guys prioritized, I guess. But you’re seriously okay with all of that? That’s gotta be a lot on your mind.”

“Yeah, I guess it is. But it’s worth it to be with her. Like, the sex is great, but she’s just so good to be around. I’m definitely saying it all wrong, but something just… pulls me to her? It’s hard to explain. She’s not an escape from everything, but she calms it all down. Like at the first party, I wasn’t doing well, and Annabeth gave me a way out. Then we just kept talking, and she was going to walk home alone, and I— one thing led to another.” Percy sighs and messes up his hair. “Sorry, I don’t mean to make this about me, but if we’re getting it all on the table, you deserve to know why.”

PERCY JACKSON IS IN LOVE WITH ANNABETH CHASE IN EVERY SINGLE FUCKING UNIVERSE

“Wow, we’re so fucked.” Percy can’t help but laugh. They’d realized their feelings within 24 hours of each other and still took an entire month to talk about it.

FIRST OF ALL THIS IS THE MOST HOCKEY THING IN THE WORLD AND WOW!!!!!!!!!!

“Should we pay him for his emotional labor? I feel like we should pay him for his emotional labor.” Jason jokes.

I CACKLED

“I accidentally rigged Secret Santa on purpose.”

OF COURSE YOU DID PERCY! OF COURSE YOU DID

“I knew you’d be mad if I rigged it just for me to get Annabeth, so I rigged it so you’d get Piper, too!” Percy holds out a fist, waiting for a fist bump. “You can thank me now or later, whichever you prefer.”

PERCY JACKSON YOU ARE THE GREATEST

Except Jason wants to be so much more than that.

Ever since the Halloween party, Piper’s been talking to Jason a lot more than she did before, and she talked to him a fairly decent amount before the party. Of course, she’d gotten so ridiculously drunk at the party that she ended up puking so she apologized profusely to him for putting him through that, even though he’d wanted to stick around. (Oh man, he’s sounding cheesier by the second when it comes to her.) Since she’d been so wasted, he doesn’t want to bring up the dancing to her, especially since he’s convinced she’d only danced so close because she’d been so drunk.

Still, there’s a tiny part inside of Jason that hopes maybe she’d been aware of her actions even though she’d been drunk.

Jason’s always been a rule follower. It’s a fact, plain and simple. He sometimes bends the rules when they’re unfair or unjust, but overall he doesn’t dare break them. Especially when it comes to hockey. He’s not one to defy his coaches or trainers or talk back to his captains (before he became one, of course).

But now with the stupid no dating rule, Jason’s tempted to defy his coaches, which scares the shit out of him.

LOUD LONG SCREAMING JFC JASON *SHAKES HIM* THAT’S SO FUCKING ROMANTIC I WANT TO DIE FUCK YOU BOTH

But the smiles and jokes have made him only want to break the rules more.

YOU LOVE HER YOU WANT TO MARRY HER YOU WANT TO HAVE HER BABIES

Annabeth swings a leg over Percy and leaves him stranded on her bed, his hands still fastened to her headboard. One second he was on top of her, kissing down her neck with the intentions of going far lower, and the next she had him flipped and restrained. Suddenly she was pressing down onto him and teasing him relentlessly, forcing him to beg for release (which she’d eventually granted, but only after making him beg). Annabeth and that damn tie.

oh my fucking god this entire scene was so fucking hot!!!!! also how’d you know that hockey and bondage is like a thing 👀👀👀👀

ajklfdsjfdsladsfjaklfsdajlkfdasjlk annabeth being jealous, annabeth tying him up, Percy with that satisfied smirk I just

So he pushes his heart out of where it had leapt into his throat and sits back down on the edge of the bed, pulling her into his lap as he slides back. She follows and Percy pulls her face to his, letting her set the pace and meeting her there movement for movement. If he can’t claim her as his, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t show her that he’s hers. - I WANT TO DIE

that’s all he wants right now. That’s all he’s going to want for a very long time. WELL I’M IN A GRAVE RIGHT NOW GOD THAT’S ROMANTIC AF

Matching with your boyfriend? That’s cute.” Annabeth says from behind him.

Percy turns to look at her, fully taking her in for the first time today. She’d followed the ugly sweater rule, but only barely. It wasn’t one of the gaudy or loud ones he knew would make an appearance tonight; instead she’d settled on a light blue turtleneck sweater with grey squares making up that classic Christmas print and setting off every different shade in her eyes. She looks more cute than anything.

Her eyes are fixed on his sweater, which is black with red details and the word ‘HO’ stitched onto the front. Percy feels heat flood his cheeks as he tries to play it off, but it’s only a matter of time until the entire team sees Jason’s matching ‘WHERE’S MY HO AT?’ sweater. - OK NO NO NO YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME!!!!!!!!!! THEY DEFINITELY MADE OUT EARLIER AND I WANT TO MURDER NO GIVE ME ALL THE FUMBLING FIRST KISSES OH MY GOD

“It’s a Rangers sweatshirt.” He says slowly. “You hate the Rangers.”

“To be fair, I still think they suck. Islanders for life and all that. But what do you think?” Her voice betrays her smug words. - THE NEW YORK RIVALRY I AM DEAD AND BURIED OH THIS IS THE SWEETEST THING ANNABETH

Annabeth doesn’t pull away or refuse him though, so he holds on for a bit longer than he should, one hand resting on the back of her head and holding her to his chest while the other finds her back. Her arms loop around his waist, her fingers lacing behind his back. Percy takes in as much of this moment as he can before she pulls away, because he knows he won’t be the first to do so.

When she does pull away, it feels almost reluctant. He lets himself believe that, cling to that for a moment as she looks up at him with those big gray eyes. And as she does, Percy realizes that he is completely and utterly ruined for anyone except her. - JFC I’M A WRECK

“You know at some point I’m going to need to see this on you.” - POST HAT TRICK SEX, I CALL IT

“You,” he can’t help the way he leans into her, far too close to be out in the open like this, “are impossible, Chase.”

“I’m flattered.” Annabeth scoffs. - THESE ABSOLUTE DORKS I LOVE EVERYTHING

As long as Annabeth is here, Jason’s ultimately edged out. - OUCH

“Bisexual people exist, Leo. ” - HE’S ALREADY SMARTER THAN ALL HOCKEYS EVER, SORRY JASE I LOVE YOU BUT YOU’RE TOO SMART FOR THE NHL

Thanks, captain.” She takes the cup back and takes a sip and Jason would be a dirty liar if he said he didn’t stare at her lips the entire time. - ME: DYING

The consequences might be worth it, though. - YES JASON GO AFTER HER

“I didn’t say it was for me,” is Reyna’s cool reply. - I LOVE EVERYTHING SO SO SO MUCH OMG REYNA GETTING A DILDO!!!!!!!!!

Before Percy can look at Annabeth, his head whips around and he settles his glittering green eyes on Jason. “I know what we’re doing tonight,” he stage whispers as he winks.

“Do you guys need condoms? Some lube?” Connor asks, lifting up his newly gifted bottle of lube and box of flavored condoms.

“Don’t worry. We’ve got a nice supply,” Percy responds, wrapping an arm around Jason’s shoulders.

“Percy, not in front of the kids,” Jason complains, and he’s not embarrassed until he sees Piper giggling behind her hand. - *BOUNCES* GIVE ME THE BACKSTORY - hockey fandom has corrupted me and now I ship them to a ridiculous degree *shrugs*

Inside the box lays a brand new hockey stick. When he says brand new, he means brand new. The paint is shiny and glossy and he can just imagine how it’ll feel when he uses it on the ice. It’s white, blue stripes painted onto the butt and the bottom of the shaft, just before the blade. On the heel of the stick, he can see GRACE 1 painted in red letters. It’s the nicest hockey stick he’s seen gifted to a college player. The only thing he can compare the quality of this is to NHL and Olympic equipment. - I LITERALLY SCREAMED OUT LOUD LIKE IN MY DORM A VERY HIGH PITCHED SCREAM PIPER MCLEAN PIPES BABES YOU GOTTA KNOW PLEASE

god every single one of the gifts just demonstrates how well they know each other, how much they love the other person already and I am in TEARS

Holy fuck, Piper did that. - MY REACTION SAME

the two California kids bonding over their warm state and the fact that they’ve found a home on the ice - say with me AWWWWW

“Jason.” She takes a step closer to him. “I want you to have it. You deserve it. You love hockey and…” She falters and she bites down on her bottom lip. “I wanted to give you something meaningful. I just didn’t have the guts to do it without using Secret Santa as my excuse. I’m just so lucky I got you.” - dfaslkdjfdsajlkdfsjaklkjdfslakljdsajlfsdkakljszdfjoirewaklcszioojewfkmflsiouearwjoweiofjfdwerijefojfeidljfiawfjcewuoirijffuiwoewjdkoeioewuoriwejafwK

THAT’S ROMANTIC AF PIPER

“Shut up.”

Before he can think straight, her arms wrap around his shoulders and she angles her face up until he feels her lips press to his. He doesn’t hesitate to bring his hands up to her hips, holding her there and soaking in the fact that this is real. Here he is, giving into the temptation, allowing his heart to win the ruthless battle over his head. All rationality and self-control go out the window as he focuses solely on kissing her. Her lips taste like peppermint and are just as soft as he’s imagined them, which also brings back the influx of memories of the persistent daydreams that’d plagued his mind for weeks. Yet every expectation pales in comparison to this moment. He feels like he could melt from the heat coursing through his body, engulfing him in a fiery embrace. - FALLS ON THE FLOOR, SCREAMS, COMBUSTS - god you guys write the romances so well, they’re totally unique and this was PERFECT

Nothing,” he lies easily. While he usually can’t lie to save his life, he finds this lie effortless. “She was just being a good friend, Percy. Nothing more.”

A look of disappointment floods Percy’s face. “Really?” he asks sadly. “Damn. I was hoping for a good conversation or at least a kiss. I’m sorry, man. That sucks.”

“Yeah.” Jason shrugs and tries to look crestfallen. “Oh, well. Rules are rules.”

“Right.” Percy shakes his head once and sighs. “Rules are rules.” - *buries head in hands* JASON I HAD HOPE FOR YOU, oh well I guess this does mean you can survive the NHL

If this is what Jason has to do to be with Piper, so be it. - OH FUCK

fklasfjslkdafjskldaajfklsd guys this was so fucking good and beautiful and perfect and the perfect mix of angst and fluff and I JUST WOW

#puck it #abby liveblogs #fic recs

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heckstetter · 7 years

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The Bowers Gang reacts to their S/O calling them Daddy for the firt time

Anonymous said to heckstetter:

Can I request the gang's reaction to their s/o calling them daddy for the first time?

YESSSSSSSSSSS, ohhh my god I hate that I have a Daddy kink but one of my exes made it so good for me qvq I’m sorry it took all day! I was gonna sit down and start writing it as soon as the request came in but my sister asked if I would help with grocery shopping today and that took so much longer than expected and then I tried to finish it but fell the fuck asleep.

Also! I wrote this in a more headcanon style rather than the drabble style of my last post, if you were the one who requested it and wanted it in more of a story style, let me know and I’ll rewrite it! Heck, even if you weren’t the one to request this and still want it in more of a drabble style let me know!!! I may or may not have already started writing it out lmao

Everything is under the read more because it gets very NSFW!

Henry:

Ø You’ve been playing around with the idea of having a sort of “kink discussion” with your boyfriend for a while now.

Ø You didn’t want to have a Daddy kink, but oh lord did it turn you the fuck on. It’s fine, you’ve accepted who you are and what you like.

Ø And your boyfriend, Henry, also turned you the fuck on.

Ø He was rough in all of the right ways. He knew how to push you to your limits, he fucked you ‘til you turned black and blue; leaving his mark on you in the form of bruises, cuts, and love bites.

Ø He was hot shit and you were living for it.

Ø And one of the best things about dating Henry, was that in the quiet of the night after the brutal fucking and punishments, he’d hold you tight to him and whisper sweet, loving nothings in your ear.

Ø Words he’d never, ever say in front of his group of friends, mind you, but that didn’t take away the significance of those soft moments between the two of you and how safe he made you feel.

Ø Henry made you feel small, protected, loved, and wanted.

Ø So basically, Henry was Daddy AF and you kind of, sort of, really wanted to tell him!

Ø Well, maybe not tell him up front. In all honesty, you wanted to be under him, whimpering out “Daddy, please!” and “Daddy, you make me feel so good” as he fucks his thick cock into you over and over again.

Ø You had one problem, however. His reaction.

Ø If there was anyone in your group of peers with #daddyissues, it was Henry Bowers. You knew of his dad, Henry doing everything in his power to prevent you from formally meeting him, but you knew exactly what his father was capable of and the quality of life Henry had at home.

Ø You were pretty sure that Henry would never be interested in you calling him daddy, due to bad associations with the word. But you were resolved to bring it up to him!

Ø These kinds of conversations were important in relationships! Communication of wants, interests, and expectations was a healthy thing to do!

Ø Yea… Except y’all never got that far. The second the words “Kind of a sex talk?” left your lips, Henry was all over you.

Ø He shoved you down onto your bed, pulling you close to him to kiss you roughly. You tried to move away from his hungry kisses, but damn.

Ø Your boy was addicting, and you gave up the second he started nipping and licking and sucking along your jawline.

Ø Next thing you knew, both of you were naked and fucking like you’d never see each other again. You were on your back, pretty much bent in half because Henry was holding the back of your thighs, your calves thrown over his shoulders, as he jackhammered into you.

Ø “Unh, fuck! Daddy, please!” You cried out, scratching your nails down his back. You didn’t even realize what you had said, at first until his response.

Ø He didn’t falter in his brutal pace, instead fucking you even harder, panting his pleasure in your ear

Ø “Fuck, baby girl, you like that?” He asked, and all you could do was nod and whimper as one of the hands holding your thigh moved down to where the two of you were joined, rubbing your clit hard as he continued to fuck you, “Mm, fuck yea, baby! Cum all over Daddy’s cock.”

Ø Who were you to disobey an order like that? It was by far, the absolute hardest you had ever orgasmed in your life.

Ø Even after that amazing experience, you still didn’t really talk to Henry about the kink or how to delve into it in a deeper manner, but you also never had sex without saying it anymore.

Ø Henry was insufferably smug about it for weeks until you had the guts to whisper “Daddy” in his ear while the two of you were hanging out with his gang in Belch’s Trans Am.

Ø Needless to say, he made Belch take the two of you home immediately.

Patrick:

o In order to maintain any real kind of relationship with a guy like Patrick Hockstetter, you had to be either a) pretty kinky or b) have the patience of a god damned saint to be willing to go through all of his kinks.

o You just so happened to be the former option, having known about your “unusual” sexual interests long before you had ever known the lanky teen who was now your boyfriend.

o You were also more than happy to play the role of his masochistic plaything, enjoying all the creative ways he could hurt you and mark you as his own.

o Throughout the course of your relationship, you’ve sustained plenty of injuries ranging from burns to lacerations, broken blood vessels and blackening bruises, sprained joints and even a fractured wrist on one evening.

o (The two of you were regulars at the local pharmacy, always buying heaps of medical supplies and a large box of condoms that never seemed to last you through the week. This unfortunately gave Greta ample evidence to fuel her cruel rumors around school, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care. It was all consensual fun to the two of you, no matter how insane it sounded to everyone else.)

o All your kinks seemed to neatly align with his own… except for one.

o Patrick wasn’t interested in titles. He didn’t care for being called Master, and Sir felt too informal to both of you. He didn’t bring up any other suggestions after that and you were too chickenshit to mention the one thing you really wanted to call him.

o “Daddy…” You imagine yourself hissing out in a hazy mix of pleasure and pain as you’re laid out naked over his lap, his hand— No, his belt striking your ass and your lower back at a tempo you can’t quite keep track of but are too fucked out to care.

o Your fantasy never goes beyond that moment. Patrick is well known for his unpredictability and while you knew him well enough, you couldn’t conjure up what you’d think his real reaction would be.

o Despite not being able to think of an outcome, that was one of your favorite things to imagine. You loved being bent over his lap, the feeling of his erection poking into your belly as he switched between caressing you with his long, talented fingers and hitting you with pretty much any item in the room that he knew would fucking hurt.

o You liked to indulge yourself in this fantasy on the rare occasion you’d be spending the night by yourself. More often than not, Patrick would make his way through your window after everyone else in your household has gone to sleep and stay with you.

o He didn’t do it every night, though, and as the time he usually showed up by came and went, you couldn’t help but let your own hands wander down the front of your jeans, stroking yourself lightly as you thought of all the nasty things your boyfriend did to you.

o God, you were already so fucking wet. Even the thought of Patrick was enough to make you insane with want.

o “Ffffuck,” You whine, your head thrown back against your pillow and your eyes squeezed shut as you pushed your underwear to the side and really started to work yourself, “Uhh… Patrick— Daddy! Please!”

o “Getting started without me, baby girl? I think that’s grounds for a punishment.”

o You rip your hand out of your pants as your eyes fly open as you turn to face your boyfriend. He’s sitting in your windowsill, looking at you with a wild glint in his eyes as his tongue darts out to lick his lips in his usual predatory manner.

o “Were you feeling lonely, Y/N?” He asks, an edge of mockery to his voice, “Does Daddy not take care of you well enough that you had to bring matters into your own hands?”

o God damn it.

o God fucking damn it.

o He had heard you. He had fucking heard you fucking yourself on your fucking fingers while thinking about his stupid sexy fucking self and he had fucking heard you call him Daddy.

o With the way he was looking at you, you were pretty sure you were about to die. Or get fucked until you die.

o “I’m waiting.” He snaps at you, “Are you going to answer me? Does Daddy not treat you right? Does he not fuck you hard enough? Long enough? Does Daddy not let you cum on his dick?”

o You try to explain yourself to him, but it’s no use. He’s in one of his moods at this point, somewhere between horny as hell at the sight of seeing you touch yourself to the thought of him (it’s not the first time he’s watched, he’s seen you pleasure yourself time and time again with and without your knowledge) and pissed the fuck off that you thought you could keep one of your kinks from him.

o He ties you to your bed and fucks you mercilessly until you’re screaming for Daddy.

o The next day, he makes you promise to never keep any secrets from him. Even if it’s something you think is stupid or that he won’t like. Patrick insists he doesn’t care what it is, he’s your boyfriend and he has a right to knowing.

o A few days later, your sitting around Belch’s Trans Am with the gang and as usual the topic gets incredibly sexual. The two of you were the only ones getting anything on a consistent basis because you were seeing each other so more often than not these conversations were about your sex life.

o “I bet Y/N never cums when she fucks you.” Henry teases, albeit quite rudely.

o “Oh, bullshit,” Patrick laughs and grabs at his dick through his jeans, “Y/N cums on Daddy’s cock all night.”

o You punch him. You punch him right in the throat.

o Belch, Vic, and Henry are all somewhere between horrified and disgusted and Patrick can’t stop laughing.

o God damn it.

Vic (I uh. I changed the request up on this one a bit.):

ü So, you’re in your bedroom, just spending the afternoon lazing about with your boyfriend, Vic.

ü He’s laying down in your bed, starfished the fuck out so you have no choice but to be laying pretty much directly on top of him. (He does it on purpose. He thinks you don’t know.)

ü The two of you were sort of drifting in and out of sleep, making out a little bit every now and then, or having silly little conversations about nothing in particular.

ü Basically, y’all are just being a disgustingly adorable couple. (He’d never do this around his friends, but they know how cuddly he gets.)

ü You’re kissing at his jaw line, lightly dragging your teeth over old lovebites because it makes him shiver and inhale sharply. His hands are on your ass, gripping you tightly as you slowly sink your teeth into the most sensitive part of his neck to suck at and darken the bruise that was already there. (Since the two of you started dating, he has always had a hickey in that spot. In other spots too, but none as ever-present as that spot.)

ü You can feel his erection poking your stomach and you couldn’t help but giggle. You loved knowing what you could do to him, and all of the things he felt for you and because of you.

ü “Got a problem, baby?” You ask, your tone teasing yet still deep with want. Vic huffs and uses his grip on your ass to pull you up closer, grinding his erection into your own developing problem.

ü “You really gonna tease me like that, Y/N?” He asks, biting his lip seductively while continuing the slow roll of his hips, “You better start behaving before Daddy bends you over his knee, babygirl.”

ü What.

ü The two of you stop all of your motions immediately, processing what the fuck just came out of Victor’s mouth. You thought he had been blushing from all the attention before, but his skin went from soft pink to bright fucking red.

ü “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” “…you have a daddy kink?” You both blurt out at the same time.

ü “No! Okay, maybe… yes. Yes, I do.” Vic admits, pointedly looking around the room instead of your face.

ü “It’s not a bad thing, Vic.” You say after a moment of silence, “Unexpected, but not bad. I’ll call you that if you’re really into it.”

ü To be honest, Vic didn’t seem like the Daddy type at all, but hey! You loved your boyfriend and everything about him and if he got his rocks off to you calling him Daddy then you’d call him that god damn it!

ü “Really?” He asks, finally daring to make eye contact with you, he shifts slightly so you can’t feel his erection twitch with renewed interest. (You felt it, though. He wasn’t great at hiding these things from you.)

ü “Yes, Daddy.” You purr, balancing on your knees for a second so you can undo his jeans and pull his hard cock out. You move your panties to the side, already so wet, and sink down on him inch by inch.

ü Both of you threw your heads back at the feeling of him being fully inside of you. He moved his hands from your ass to your hips, gripping you tight enough so that he could pick you up and drop you back down on his dick.

ü Oh.

ü “Daddy!” You cry out sharply as he does it again and again and again.

ü You’re in for a long night and come out of it just as into the whole Daddy thing as he is.

ü You both tease each other about it in front of your friends. They hate you :’^)

Belch (also changed up the request a bit here):

§ You’re pretty sure that the most surprising thing about your relationship with Belch (at least to outsiders) was just how great the two of you were about communicating pretty much everything with each other.

§ Neither of you were sparkling conversationalists, and people often referred to you as the quiet ones in your respective groups of friends but with each other?

§ Everything just flowed so easily, you never were frightened to tell Belch about anything and he could spend hours holding you in the back seat of your car just talking the night away (among other things.)

§ So, naturally, when you discovered a particular kink that you had the literal first thing that you did was consider if it meant enough to you to bring it up to your boyfriend and when the best time to talk to him about it would be.

§ Healthy! Communication!

§ Unfortunately, there was no easy way to really bring up wanting to call your boyfriend Daddy, but you couldn’t help but think about (and thoroughly enjoy) all the things about him that helped you develop this kink.

§ He was physically bigger than you, and while his size tended to be a bit of a sensitive issue for him, you thought he was downright the fucking sexiest man alive. He could pick you up and manhandle you in any which way he wanted, whenever he wanted, and that does a lot for someone let me fuckin tell you.

§ Not only that, but he was willing to do absolutely whatever to see you smile and make you feel like the most special person alive.

§ His friends would often give him shit for times he went out of his way to make you happy, but he just shrugged and gave him his usual spiel of “A real man would do whatever t’ make his S/O happy” and “A good boyfriend always makes sure his S/O is his fuckin’ priority.”

§ He took care of you in all the best ways and then held you down and fucked you ‘til you cried.

§ Belch Huggins was Daddy as fuck, and you were gonna tell him so.

§ The conversation happened during lunch, as most of your private conversations at school do. You snuck out of the cafeteria holding hands as you made your way over to Amy, his well-kept Trans Am.

§ “What’d you wanna talk about, baby?” He asks as you two pile into the backseat. Y’all usually sat up front but you wanted him to be holding you during this conversation.

§ “So, I know we’re not really a kinky couple…” You began, and Belch nodded understandingly. Compared to pretty much all of your friends (COUGHPATRICKCOUGHHENRYCOUGHVICTORCOUGH), the two of you were the most vanilla of the group. Not that you were completely vanilla or that y’all didn’t have good sex. “Well, what if I wanted to… um.”

§ Belch holds you closer to him, one of his big hands resting on your lower back and the other lovingly cupping your face, “You can tell me, Y/N.”

§ “Can I call you Daddy?” You ask, “Like… in bed, I mean!”

§ He doesn’t respond at first, just staring in your eyes and smiling. The hand that was cupping your face slooowly moves down to the front of your jeans. He swiftly unbuttons them but waits until you nod to push his hand inside, letting his fingers gently tease you.

§ “You wanna call me Daddy, babygirl?” Belch asks as he slips two fingers inside of you, “Yer gonna be naughty and drag me out to my car durin’ lunch and whisper about how much Daddy turns you on?”

§ His fingers are moving faster inside you now and you’re already soaked and it’s making this incredibly lewd noise but you can’t bring yourself to do anything but move your hips against his hand and scratch at his back as he fingerfucks you.

§ “Oh fuck, Daddy!” You whimper, “Daddy, please let me cum!”

§ “I wasn’t sure if I was gonna let ya cum, babygirl.” Belch admits, but doesn’t slow down or stop, “But all Daddy wants right now is to watch you cum all over his fingers.”

§ So you do, and then the Lunch bell rings. Belch makes his friends walk home because the only thing he wants to do as soon as school is out is drive you out to somewhere private and really get to explore this new kink of yours.

#texts from the crypt #henry bowers x reader #patrick hockstetter x reader #victor cross x reader #belch huggins x reader #the bowers gang x reader #it 2017 #my post #my writing

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showtime-showtime · 7 years

Text

Things I remember from NPGC 1812 (8/31)

So my close friend and I decided to go to NYC on a limb because I needed to see Great Comet before it closed today. These are things I remember from the show. I'm so grateful I got to see it and that I got to meet so much of this wonderful cast. So in the beginning there's a siren and then the lights get brighter and they all come out and talk to each section. Then the orchestra starts and they all run off. The Doors open and Pierre steps out. At this point there were several minutes of clapping and I was crying. The accordion starts up and Natasha screams and runs up to Andrey who then leaves out the Doors. During the prologue they all have glasses and are toasting. All the main squad has certain spots they stand in. Except Balaga who just wasn't there for a while. There was a guy playing random drum set in the pit in costume and I was like cool then out of nowhere he popped up on balagas part and I was shook. Marya was right next to me and intimidating af. The whole ensemble goes up to the area in front of the Doors and is there for a lot of Pierre. They spread out once the guitar comes in and then end in that same spot. Pierre cuts them off and just stands there for a while. Then counts them off for Moscow. This mostly takes place around the main circle of the pierres study. You can see mary and Bolkonsky's up in the area by the part of the pit in front of the door. Mary runs to the stairs and her facial expressions are bomb man like shit. The powder flying off the wig is hilarious. When Bolkonsky asks for wine Paul pinto comes in a server like hunched over real bad and it's great. When Natasha comes in for her bit with Mary they grab stools and wedge there way in the audience on stage. It's great. Bolkonsky in his underthings is hilarious. No one else was perfect. The light change as soon as she says moon was beautiful. Andrey comes out at one point and is reading a letter in the snow then runs off. The opera was the strangest damn thing I've ever seen. Mary was right next to us during the weird part. Her and Paul were just so good? Like didn't know voices could do that. Sonya and Natasha at the end, they're faces were absolutely hilarious. And then that rush of cold air shit I was shook. Lucas does this weird head thing on each of the beats when the lights hit him, it's a very anatole thing. Him, dolokov and Helene are in the middle in front of the those Doors but like down a row being sexual and shit as they do. The "box" the the area right in front of the Doors. The entirety of Natasha and anatole is just funny but also well done. Shit guys the duel started and I knew it was gonna be lit but once that beat dropped I was not prepared for the strobes, the ensemble being literally everywhere. It was a party nonstop and I was living. Though I always thought that line about corpulence and such was anatole and it's not? So I was confused but it was still great and a banger. And geez Pierre is so freaking drunk by the time he challenged dolokov. Obviously he gets shot then moved up behind the pit and Pierre is standing on the edge of the circle back to most of the audience. And then just keeps standing. Everyone is shocked he's not shot. Dolokov looks so disappointed in himself and it broke my heart. Dust and ashes had me shook. It was gorgeous. When the ensemble adds in some are in the aisles downstairs but most are up across the mezzanine. They all have little yellow spots on them and it's haunting. Sunday morning was cool. They had a couple of mirrors going around Natasha. Marya cracked me up. Charming holy fuck guys I didn't realize how much I loved amber til I saw her live. That song was great. The knock on the door leading into is just Gock block someone hits from between the Doors. I love Helene despite her flaws. Natasha looks like such a child at the end when she replies Helene. They leave out the Doors and everyone comes in with masks and gorgeous dresses dancing everywhere. In every aisle possible there's dancing. A lot of this song happens with like Natasha and anatole across from each other dancing around the pit. I love this song so much like fuck. The weird part towards the end of the ball when they kiss, everyone but the two of them have wine glasses filled with water and are making noise around the rim of the glasses. It's so powerful when it gets to after the kiss. The ensemble is all around, anatole is up too in front of the Door and Natasha is down in front of the main pit. She turns around on I will love you anatole and he is so surprised and pleased and it's great. She goes up, takes his arm, and they walk out the Doors and are just there for a few secs and then the doors slam shut and it's a black out. So to start act 2 the sirens went off again and they just went right into letters. Anyone who wasn't soloing was so incredibly into it like it made me move and jam right with them. The guy behind me got a letter but after the show as I was crying from just being overwhelmed by it all he gave it to me and it was the sweetest thing. Anyway nick c was right next to me for part of it and I was LIVING. All the hype man. When Natasha asks what should she do if she loves both of them, she's on one side of the pit with anatole and Andrey on either side of the pit. And then at one point on the other side of me was nick b and we made solid eye contact and he remembered me after the show which blew me away. When Natasha is waiting for the letter to get passed from dolokov across the front she looks so cute. Dolokov and Helene just encourage the audience to pass it to her and it's great. At one point I'm not quite sure if it's Letters or not but Sonya passes anatole and looks absolutely disgusted and dang girl get him. Sonya and Natasha absolutely broke my heart because Sonya deserves so much and Natasha is a child and it broke me. When it transitioned into Sonya alone Natasha walked past us and up around the mezzanine but to get up the stairs she walks right past Andrey who through all of the previous song was just broken. I kept looking back at him and I was crying. Brittain broke my heart and Sonya is so pure and good. But shit preparations started and I was like where's my boi??? There were about 4 guitars playing the beat alone that I could see. That song is such a damn jam I love nick c he slays it. When anatole says he'll send a letter from Poland he makes a funny face and waves bye to Pierre. During the verse about being in the study anatole is up top next to the Doors shaving and he walks back and forth when he's pacing with shaving cream still on his face.When dolokov is yelling at anatole he grabs him by the back of the head and you can tell anatole it annoyed. But then shit it goes into balaga and he just threw a basket of shakers at us and man it was a party. I have no idea where balaga comes from though. One minute I'm looking at danatole then the next balaga is jamming in my face. Because of where I was sitting he was right in my face and so I didn't get to see much of the danatole off to the side but I saw some of it and I just love them. But balaga was a party from start to finish. Danatole just dancing and jamming together the entire time was precious and I love them. The entire room just filled with shakers. Then conductor was even up just jamming with everyone. Going into the abduction damn it was so good. They all had drinks and were toasting again. I cheered with balaga and then just jammed again. The dueling accordions is so lit. The Russian dancing guys are in front of the Doors and up in the back of the theatre. It was so cool. The chaos section was just that. I didn't know where to look or what to do. I saw goes flying. Saw Helene and Marya doing their thing. Someone gave Natalie a painting to smash over balaga. When Pierre cuts them off most of them fall, he's hunched over, and dolokov and anatole just try to desperately and overdramatically catch their breath. The pause last so long because everyone was cheering and laughing. Lucas makes some of the best faces. It was great. Then it started back up everyone was happy and having a good time. Most of the ensemble had made their way near the Doors which had opened. Then anatole does his whole wait thing. The door shuts and everyone sits. He made this row scoot over and was sitting by this girl who was trying not to laugh. The pauses are extremely long. He put his arm around her and just stared at her for a bit. After he said it's a Russian custom, he just sat there. With his hand up and eyes closes. For what felt like a whole minute. Just waiting. Then it started back up and dolokov had to get his say in about the fur cloak which was great of course. They started running around when balaga started up it was a jam and most of the ensemble cleared out towards the house of the theatre. When it gets tot he part where anatole is trying to sneak in, you just see Marya up there in front of the Doors. She so quietly said "you will not enter" and "my house" was so gritty and forceful, and the audience lost their minds. She is such an absolute badass. They all run off. She stays pretty much up there for the majority of in my house and Natasha is DSR and Sonya is DSL in front of the pit. When Natasha runs off to her room she stands up in the middle of front of the middle pit area with her arms wrapped around her not moving for a very long time. Marya offers her pillows and water but Natasha doesn't move. Sonya tries to go to her and Marya scolds her so hard it shook me. Paul pinto is the servant who brings the letter from Marya. The lights there were really cool because there were lights bulbs hanging down from where Marya was to pierres study and they lit up with the music. Very cool. Pierre gets out to talk to Marya and starts walking around to find anatole. When he does Helene is sitting on the steps by the Doors and anatole is just curled up in her lap. He looks so helpless and at this point I just felt nothing but sorrow for anatole. He's such a scared child during Pierre and anatole. But damn Dave drag him. I've always loved Dave during this song but seeing was something else. Natasha walks down with a cup and powder that is the arsenic and drinks it during the part where the electro part just sounds like it having a fit. Anatole stumbled over right next to me and fell over the railing almost crying. When the music stops before Pierre sings again Natasha screams and runs off with Marya and Sonya. Pierre takes it back and anatole walks up towards the Doors, runs up the stairs and hits the One Note™. He stands there for a minute while it transitions into Natasha very ill. The Doors open and are lit white. He walks into the light and stands there for a bit, then walks off to the right. Sonya is DSR singing. After anatole is gone Andrey walks in. He has the letter from Natalie and has his heart to heart with pierre. When he says "never speak of that again he shoves the letters at Pierre who at this point now has his and anatoles. He walks around and into the "house" where mary he waiting. He shoved past her, sits in his fathers chair, and starts to shake a little like Bolkonsky does. Pierre and Natasha is so precious. Natasha is just walking around barefoot and in a night gown. She's struggling so much and Pierre is trying to comfort her and its heart breaking. When it gets to the part where he just speaks Natasha is trying to go up the steps towards the Doors and Dave is DSR. His mic goes out and he just speaks to her. It's was beautiful and heartbreaking. Natasha walks back to him and touches his face and it's very touching. She exits and Pierre puts on his coat. He illuminated by 2 spotlights and a single light bulb. Everything else is dark. The ensemble is scattered. Eventually more lights appears. The light bulbs slowly light up the theatre as do the other smaller comet looking pieces. The Comet is right over the pit and starts with only one bulb lit up on it. The last bit where it's all the music, it brightens slowly and fully until the music releases and it dims to black.

#natasha pierre and the great comet of 1812 #npgc1812 #this show has my heart #thank you #happy trails

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wordsofdemetria · 7 years

Text

Eye of the Tiger - Part 11 - Dantana

Things are about to get sad AF. Don't hate me. But here's a long chapter for you guys.

You can read the previous parts here: https://wordsofdemetria.tumblr.com/tagged/eye-of-the-tiger

Dani POV

"Hey! Welcome back!" It felt weird finally being back here. It was weird because it was all familiar but I also felt out of place. I was excited to get back into boxing but I was nervous because 2 months of no training changes a lot. After I got my brace off I did more workouts but I couldn't actually work on any technique or lift weights so my muscles feel nonexistent.

"Thanks!" I grin at my coach, Chris. It was also weird being here without my dad, but as you've guessed it he still makes every possible excuse to not be around me.

"We'll take it easy today to see where I can push you and what we need to work on but hopefully we can get you back on track for the tournament next month." He helps me strap on my gloves and I can feel my heart beat in excitement.

"Sounds great." Warm ups were great. I fell back into routine and despite the amount of activity I was doing I felt my entire being relax. This was my therapy and I was so happy to have it back. When it got to the core training though, my frustration gave out.

"FUCK!" I spit out my mouth guard as an ache shot up my hand.

"Dani you alright?" Chris unstrapped my gloves immediately and threw them aside to check my hand. He's going to make me stop, I know it.

"Y-yeah. I'm fine. Let's keep going." I force myself to take deep breaths to pass the pain. He looks at me with his eyes filled with concern.

"No, you're done for today, take it easy okay?" I pick up my gloves to strap them back on.

"N-no please. I want to keep going, I'm fine." I say it to convince myself more than him to be honest. I want to be okay. I want my hand to stop hurting. It's so frustrating.

"Dani, I don't want to ruin that hand any more than it is. You need to take it easy, we will get you back on track but I need you to take care of yourself now okay?" I just nod in defeat and he rests a caring hand on my shoulder before giving it a squeeze. I honestly just felt my gut drop to my stomach the entire way home. All the euphoria I had at the beginning of training just washed away when the pain took over. Now I feel smaller than ever stepping up to the front door of my house. I dreaded being here, the silence from my dad broke my heart more every time I saw him.

But his presence wasn't apparent when I stepped in and I honestly didn't know what was worst, my dad not being here or my dad acting like I'm not here. Either way this loneliness was fucking brutal. He didn't even leave a note this time. His notes were always short like 'dinner in microwave' and it honestly shocked me that he still fed me after treating me like I'm non-existent. I opened the microwave to see if he left anything, but it was empty. I sigh. It's not like I had much of an appetite anyways.

I feel the tears threaten the corner of my eyes and pulled out my phone. Despite all this shit happening, things with Santana have been amazing. If you would have told me a few months ago that I would be dating a cheerleader I would have laughed right in your face. But she was different. Hearing her voice always brought a smile to my face no matter how down I was feeling.

"Hey D." Santana answered as I opened the fridge. I know I should eat because the lack of calories will only slow me down in training.

"Hey babe. What are you up to?"

"I was just finishing up some homework. How was your training?" I can hear papers rustling in the background and I smile thinking about that cute concentrated look she has on her face when she does homework.

"Not great but hopefully it'll get better..." I trail off. I can hear her sigh on the other end. I gave up to trying to find food in our barely stocked fridge.

"What happened babe? Are you okay?"

"My hand just hurts." I answer honestly. It still had small waves of aching coming in and out. With all the little food we had I still managed to pull out a bag of peas from the freezer to help my hand.

"I'm sorry..."

"It's okay I've got some good ol' peas on it." I chuckle as I shift the bag. But I felt the sadness creep back up when my laugh echoed back at me. "Would you want to come over?"

"You're dad isn't home again?" I can hear the frustration in her voice. She absolutely hates my dad. They've never met but she's gotten so protective of me with how he's treating me.

"No..." I trail off. She doesn't answer right away and I immediately feel bad remembering that she was doing homework. "You don't have to, I know you have homework."

"Um, I just have a couple more pages to read then I'll be done. Give me half an hour?"

"San, you don't have to..."

"I want to babe. I'll see you soon okay?" With that she hangs up and I just throw the frozen peas back in the freezer and head upstairs to clean up for my girlfriend.

Santana POV

"SO much better than homework..." I whisper out as my hot as fuck girlfriend was on top of me and sucking on my neck. I actually didn't mean to say that out loud and I remember why when I feel her collapse on top of me and release a fit of giggles into my neck.

"Way to kill the fucking mood, San." She chuckled out as she pushed herself back up to look down at me.

"I mean, IT IS. I'm not lying." She rolled her eyes at me and I just pout. My pout always works, her lips were back on mine before I knew it. And I wrap my hand behind her neck to deepen the kiss and make sure she wasn't going anywhere. I sit up, feeling myself grow hungrier and my core heating up. There was something about having your girlfriend straddle you on a couch in the basement that was just a really big turn on. I faintly can hear a door shut and of course I assume it's the movie neither of us are watching right now. I don't even remember what we even picked out but all I know is that the TV wasn't as loud as the voice that boomed into the room next.

"Danielle, what the fuck is going on?" Dani immediately jumped off of me and I whimper at the loss of contact but freeze when I see the sight in front of me. I see an angry man standing at the bottom of the basement stairs who I can only assume was Dani's father because their resemblance was striking.

"D-dad, w-what are doing here?" I've never seen Dani so frightened before. I wanted to reach out and comfort her but it probably would have made things worse.

"I live here Danielle." His jaw tensed as he looked between us. "I think it's time for your friend to go home. Wash up for dinner." That was all he said before turning to stairs. He didn't even introduce himself or ask who I was. He barely even looked at me, he barely looked at Dani. I expected to see Dani broken like she was so many times after dealing with her dad but when I looked at her I saw anger.

"Her name is Santana and she's my fucking girlfriend, Dad." He froze and I immediately felt uncomfortable. I didn't know what to do. Do I stay by Dani, do I go and let them hash it out? I mean he's blocking my only exit so I couldn't even run if I wanted to. He slowly turns around and even I shake a little with fear.

"Dani, stop..." I whisper to her. I really didn't want to be in the middle of this, I shouldn't be here for this. But she ignores me.

"Still have nothing to say? Did you hear me? SHE'S MY GIRLFRIEND. I'M FUCKING GAY." Dani shot up and got in her dad's face but he still just stood there like a statue.

"Danielle..." He growled out but Dani wasn't having it.

"No STOP. Don't fucking talk unless you are finally going to acknowledge the fact that I'm gay."

"We can discuss this when you're friend is gone, Dani." He warned before turning away but Dani's arm shot out to yank his arm back.

"GIRLFRIEND. She's my GIRLFRIEND, and you need to accept that!" The look he shot at me was the final straw for me. I couldn't sit here anymore.

"I-I'm going to g-go..." I finally muster up the courage to grab my jacket and push past them.

"San, wait..." I heard Dani shout out but I just kept going. I didn't even look at Dani, I couldn't. I felt shitty leaving but this was obviously a family matter that I shouldn't be there for. I can only hope that she still calls me soon to let me know things are alright.

God, I hope she's alright.

Dani POV

I actually couldn't believe that Santana just...left me. I always thought that when it came down to it should would defend me and be here for me but I suddenly felt smaller in front of my dad once she was gone.

"Wash up for dinner." My dad says again before heading up the stairs, as if none of that happened. How can he just ignore it? How can he ignore the tears rolling down my face? How can he just ignore something that is a huge part of me? Why does he ignore me?

"Why won't you just fucking say something?" I cried out. I was hysterical at this point. He paused and I thought for a second he would actually talk to me but he didn't. He kept going. I collapsed on the staircase sobbing. I felt as if my world was stripped away from me. I'm so fucking lonely and nobody cares that I am.

"DANIELLE!" I hear my dad yell. I must have been on the stairs for a good half hour and he didn't even come to check on me. Fuck this. I push myself up the stairs to follow his booming voice. I literally have nothing left to lose. When I got to the dining table he was already in place eating his dinner while mine laid across from him.

"Dad, I'm gay." I feel like a broken record at this point, but when was he going to acknowledge it?

"Sit down your food is getting cold." Is he kidding me?

"No. Not until you say something." His jaw clenched but no words came out and that was the last straw. My anger boomed through me and shot out my hands as they slammed on the table. "DAMN IT DAD FUCKING SAY SOMETHING!"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY DANIELLE?" He threw his fork on his plate and slammed his hands back on the table. Finally! Some emotion!

"LITERALLY ANYTHING. ANYTHING TO ACKNOWLEDGE THAT I'M GAY!" I scream.

"MY DAUGHTER ISN'T A FUCKING DYKE!" My jaw literally dropped. I was actually shaking from rage.

"Fuck you!" Was all I could say as I flipped my plate of food towards him. I expected this ignorance but I imagined handling it a lot better. I didn't actually prepare for how badly it would hurt. The silence fell thick between us as he looked at my broken plate that landed inches away from him. I didn't know what was going to happen now. Everything about this situation scared me but nothing scared me more than the words that came from my dad next.

"I think it's best if you go." Suddenly all the anger washed out of me. Deep down I knew what he meant but I didn't want it to be true.

"D-dad I-"

"You have fifteen minutes to get your shit together and I want you out." I sat there frozen as he left. He didn't bother cleaning up anything, he just left me there to process everything that happened. My dad was all I had in this world and now he didn't want me.

What have I done?

#dantana #dani who doesn't have a last name still #santana lopez #glee fanfiction #demi lovato #naya rivera #eye of the tiger #daya

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youreverycolor · 7 years

Text

Perception - Ch. 19: Breaking Point

A/N: First off, apologies again for the delay in getting you this relatively short chapter. I was wrapped up in work and studying, and I had to take care of some personal issues before I could get back to this. But that's all been resolved for the moment, so I finally had time to finish this one!OK, so this chapter has sex. Pretty intense, extreme sex. No bondage or anything, but it's pretty graphic. It isn't easy to write that way, and I've had that portion written since I started this thing - I just had to get to it, and it wasn't easy to do that either. If you don't want to read the chapter, you don't have to in order to get the rest of the story. They fight, and have pretty hot makeup sex.

Thanks to my Spanish translator (who shall remain nameless) for those portions of the dialogue. Please forgive me if the dialect isn't quite right - my Spanish speaking friends are Mexican and Puerto Rican rather than Cuban, so I had to make do with what I had, and so certain words/phrases might not be 100% right. PS, it's really awkward to ask your friends, "What might a Spanish speaker say during really hot sex?"

Anyway, enjoy some sexytimes with Rafael and Lauren, and I'll be back soon with a whole debate between our two candidates!

Song: Skin by Rihanna

“Lauren,” he said, trying to contain the anger rising in his throat, “I - I have company.”

Marissa picked up the phone and stood up. “Actually, I was just leaving.” As she walked to the door, she carefully avoided eye contact. She wasn’t sure if Lauren could tell that he already knew, but if she couldn’t, she would soon find out. Either way, Marissa didn’t want to witness the almost certainly ugly fight that was about to happen. And that was when she realized why Lauren was there - to tell Rafael herself. It made sense, given Eli’s visit was only that afternoon, and apparently, it had worked. Marissa almost felt bad about telling Rafael before Lauren had the chance, except Lauren HAD had the chance - several months of chances. The only reason she’d decided to do it now was that she had no other choice. Then again, Marissa couldn’t help but notice that, when she finally looked up, Lauren looked tortured.

“No, Marissa, you don’t have to--” Rafael began, but Marissa shook her head.

“Yes, I do.” She gave him a small smile, and he returned it with a look that was almost pleading. But deep down, he knew there was no avoiding this confrontation. She gave him a comforting touch on his forearm, forgetting for a second that this was her boss, and squeezed past Lauren, leaving the two with only silence between them.

“So…” Lauren began, gesturing toward the inside of his apartment expectantly. It took him a minute to respond; he had the urge to shut the door in her face without another word. He looked at her, searching for some sign to explain how he could have missed all these secrets for the last five months. Finally, he relented, stepping aside, letting her in.

She had been in this apartment dozens of times, but somehow, everything seemed distorted. It was like she was looking at it through a funhouse mirror. She leaned against the kitchen counter until she heard him shut - slam - the door. When he came back inside, she realized he wasn’t looking at her anymore. Instead, he went and stood by the front window, watching the lights over his little portion of the city. Cars dotted the street below, honking at absolutely nothing (Did they really think mindless noise would get them anywhere?) and he watched the people on the sidewalk, moving faster than the traffic.

“Rafael,” she said softly, so that she didn’t startle him, “I came here because… because there’s something… I’ve been meaning to--” She didn’t even know where to begin. Her fear of his reaction only made things worse.

He didn’t even know how he felt. How were you supposed to feel when you find out that the first woman you’d had any real romantic feelings for in years was withholding her entire life from you?

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something. About me, about my past.”

“Have you?” He muttered. That was all he could muster. He didn’t dare say anything else, because he knew once he started talking, he wouldn’t be able to stop. And that was when she realized, truly accepted, what she had feared from the moment he opened the door. He already knew, and she knew he already knew. Maybe in some way, she thought if she didn’t say it, she could somehow reverse time and keep him from finding out before she could tell him. Of course, if she could reverse time, there wouldn’t be anything to tell.

“Well, I did,” she said, her voice sounding more broken with every word, “but judging by your attitude, you already know.” Her dark eyes lowered, a futile hope that she was wrong.

“You assume correctly,” he replied. His voice was stoic and clipped. It was hard for her to stand there and hear it, but she deserved this, and even if she had been too late to break the news to him herself, he deserved an explanation. Surely, once she explained, he would understand. She wanted him to look at her, but she knew he wouldn’t. Instead, for no particular reason, she slipped out of her stilettos and removed the clip holding her hair on top of her head. She imagined her makeup was sliding off of her skin, revealing the deepening lines under her eyes that she tried to hide from him. She had spent all day and evening with her office door closed, staring out the window, contemplating the future. She had thought about her conversation with Eli, about his ultimatum, about all the lies she’d told about her life in order to HAVE a life. But at this point, she couldn’t deny it anymore, because obviously Eli had made good on his threat. He had proof, unmistakable, photographic, painful proof. Why hadn’t he given her more time?

“Rafael, I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you every single day.”

“And yet, you didn’t,” he said, whirling around to finally look her in the face. His eyes were brighter, flaring with anger. “Five months. Five months we’ve been together, five months I’ve told you about my life, my past, my FATHER. And five months, you never thought to mention all this?”

“I-- I know you’re angry,” she said. She was trying her damndest to stay calm. He had a right to this reaction, but losing control of her own emotions - the one thing she could control - wouldn’t do anyone any good.

“So why now? Why all of a sudden did you decide I had a right to know?”

“You know the answer already,” she said. “Did he show you?”

“Show me? Show me what? The evidence Eli has on you? No. No, no one’s showed me that… YET.”

“So Eli just told you about it?”

“Not Eli,” he snapped. “And no. In the most ridiculous, unintentional way, I guess you DID tell me.”

And that was when Lauren realized exactly why Marissa had been there.

“So Marissa told you.”

“At least someone had the courtesy.” His voice was stoic and hard.

“I know you’re angry,” she said, “and you have every right to be. This is hard enough for me to process, and it’s my life. But can I explain why I didn’t tell you?”

“I don’t care why you didn’t tell me!” He threw up his hands. “I only care that you didn’t!”

She ignored him and went on. “It was a long time ago. I don’t even remember parts of it. Whole chunks of my life are missing. I left home right after graduation and never looked back. Except I guess I wasn’t really looking forward either.”

He didn’t say anything. So she walked a little toward him. She wanted him to look her in the eyes, see that she was the same woman as he’d always seen.

“So, during my senior year, I wasn’t doing well at home. Mom got remarried to this… man… and… well, anyway, I had to get out. And I started seeing this guy. He was older, good looking, charming.” She swallowed hard, remembering her first therapy session, when she felt like a complete idiot saying all of this aloud. She wondered then how she could have been so stupid. After ten years, she knew objectively that she didn’t have anything to feel stupid about, but just because you knew something didn’t mean you believed it all the time.

“And the long story short is that he wasn’t anything like he seemed.” Tears welled in her eyes, and despite trying to stop them, fell down her cheeks. The memories stung her insides like a thousand wasps. “It didn’t take long.”

“And the drugs?” He wasn’t going to respond to anything until he had the full picture.

She winced. “That was… survival.”

“You numbed yourself,” he replied, more a statement than a question. After all these years prosecuting cases for SVU, he knew enough about prostitution to know about all its trappings. She looked away, wondering if she could levitate the box of tissues to her.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, I never thought you would hide anything like this from me. I mean, we all have pasts, but this is kind of a big thing to keep secret.”

“I wasn’t thinking--”

“Clearly!” He finished. “What WERE you thinking, Lauren? I asked you if there was something I needed to know. When we got back together, I asked you, specifically, if I needed to know anything. And you could have told me any of those times! Did you even think about the campaign implications--”

Up to that point, she had felt sick about all of this. She was guilty, and she knew it, and she was angry at herself. But the last thing he’d said made something snap in her brain. Maybe it was how he said it, with that tone of judgment in his voice. But, more likely, it was the fact that apparently his first thought was not of her, what she’d been through, what it had done to her, or how she’d managed to get out of it. His first thought was of the campaign.

“Well, Rafael, when would have been a good time to tell you that I was a drug-addicted prostitute? Over dinner with your mother? At work having lunch in your office? When we’ve got our hands all over each other on my couch?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Lauren, maybe when you found out I was running for office?” He realized immediately after he said it that he shouldn’t have.

She was aghast. Of all the people in her life, all the people she could have told about this, she thought he would be the most sympathetic. Now, he was only doing what everyone else would do - judging her, unwilling to understand the decisions she’d had to make, or even attempt to. Her eyes got wider, and her lips parted with a sharp exhale.

“You’re a real bastard, you know that?” She was quiet, which he knew was worse than if she had exploded at him.

“Lauren,” he said, just as quietly, “I didn’t mean--”

“Oh, yes, you did.” She didn’t like crying in front of him, but crying in anger was better than sadness. No matter how much she’d hurt him, she hadn’t meant to. He was just being deliberately cruel. “You said exactly what you and Eli have been concerned about all along.”

“Eli has nothing to do with this” he said.

“Oh, no? Well then, tell me, why did he try to blackmail me?” He stopped to consider this, but before he had a chance to respond, she answered her own question. “Did it ever even occur to you that I had reasons for not telling you? Do you think I liked hiding it? Do you think it’s fun for me to--”

She was shaking now, and knew she must have looked ridiculous but she couldn’t help it. Remembering the box of tissues, she crossed the room to grab a handful. He, in turn, walked past her to stand on the opposite side of the room. It was as if they were doing some kind of strange dance around one another, circling like two boxers in a ring. As angry as she was, she couldn’t look at him, afraid of the judgment she deserved, of losing him, of knowing how he was going to see her from now on. This was why she had buried it, deep in a box in the back of her mind. She didn’t need any help hating herself.

“Did you ever bother to consider” she continued, “that I didn’t do this to hurt you? That I just… I just couldn’t allow myself to go back there!”

“Lauren, I am not asking for details!”

She spun around, finally looking him in the eye.

“And THAT is exactly the problem right now!”

“I don’t--”

“You aren’t asking a goddamn thing about my life, my story, the reasons I never told you. All you’ve brought up is you and your campaign!”

“I don’t understand,” he said. His lisp, slight as it was, came out when he spoke as quickly as he was. “You didn’t want to tell me because you didn’t want to go back there, but you want me to ask you about it?”

“What I want,” she shot back, “is to feel like, now that you know, that you care about ME, not just how this will make you look!”

Something in the way she said that made him realize what he’d been wondering since November. “This… is this why you ended things?”

She said it simply and softly, almost a whisper. “Yes.”

“I know that this is probably the worst time to ask, but… why in God’s name did you come back?”

She remembered his press conference, what he’d said to change her mind - her heart. She repeated the words he had spoken on the courthouse steps.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re a sex worker. You’re -- you’re still entitled to human decency, respect, and justice.” The words tasted bitter in her mouth now.

“I remember,” he said. “Do YOU remember when I asked you if you were scared of something specific and you said no?”

“Yes, I do. And I know I lied. But look at how you’re reacting now. You said you would protect me from anything anyone tried to sling my way, but you’re the one doing the slinging.”

He could never forget anything about that night; the light off the skating rink had sparkled in her eyes, and the cold hadn’t bitten as hard after she’d kissed him. He realized then that she was right. Yes, she should have told him, but could he really guarantee that he’d have reacted any differently? And right now, he was only justifying that fear - that all he cared about was his image, that he would never look at her the same way. He also hadn’t been exactly forthright about the things in his past that he wasn’t proud of. He didn’t actually tell her about his childhood abuse, and still hadn’t told her about the night he fought back. She only knew about the former because she’d guessed. He knew, as a sex crimes prosecutor, the stigma surrounding sex workers, and here he was, contributing to it.

He was, he realized with a sickening thud in his stomach, acting like John Buchanan.

“Lauren,” he began, and when she didn’t immediately answer, he thought she hadn’t heard him. Suddenly, she started to cry again, but this time, she sounded wounded. And she was. The way he said her name made her afraid. What if he had changed HIS mind now? She felt all the lies she’d told him rising up from her belly into her throat.

“Why do you think it’s been four months and I still won’t spend the night with you?” She finally asked. And before he could answer, she went on. “I’m sorry, Rafael. I never meant to hurt you. I only wanted to protect you, and us. I should have trusted you more.”

Despite everything, she was still as beautiful as the day he had met her in choir practice. She was still kind, thoughtful, gentle. She was still the smartest woman he knew, and he still wanted to reach out, put his arms around her, and kiss her until she realized that nothing about her -- or how he saw her -- had changed.

And then something strange happened.

He suddenly found himself not just wanting to put his arms around her; he wanted more than that. He wanted to put his hands on her. He felt weird about that, because this was neither the time nor the place. But the feeling was there, and he had to make a concerted effort not to do anything about it.

“I wish I could make this up to you,” she said. “If you want me to go, I’ll go.”

He didn’t speak for a long while. She watched his hands twitch slightly, and the muscles in his forearms jump. She wanted him to say something, even start yelling again, just to break the silence. Maybe they were about to be okay, or maybe he was about to end it. She couldn’t be sure.

Then, so softly it was barely audible: “Come here.”

She was emotionally exhausted. Her head throbbed from crying. It would be easy to walk out now, after the things they had just said to one another. She could escape back into the anonymity of private practice. Staying would mean having to deal with scrutiny from his campaign, risk people finding out, having to explain and justify her past over and over again. She had tried to avoid this months ago, and against her better judgment, she’d come back. This man was complicating her life in ways she had deliberately tried to avoid. If she could just will her legs to move…

He stepped out from behind the counter and walked a few paces toward her. His sea-green eyes were bright against the lamplight. His lips barely parted as he spoke.

“Lauren. Ven aquí. Por favor.”

Maybe it was the breathiness of his words or the way her name sounded from his throat. Maybe it was the whole foreign language thing. Or maybe it was the way he looked with his hands clenched, standing the same way he did when he was cross-examining someone. Something clicked. Her legs finally moved, and before she knew where she was headed, she was pressed against his chest, her mouth on his. He bit her bottom lip, drawing a soft moan from deep in her throat. She felt his hands move to the buttons of her blouse, very nearly tearing it open in his haste. Her fingers moved through his thick hair, down his neck, across his stomach, trying to touch all of him at once. He pushed her back against the couch with his hips, standing between her legs.

Suddenly, she felt a gentle tug on her hair, pulling her head back so her neck was exposed. Lauren looked toward him, only to be met with that same intense green gaze. His nostrils flared, brow furrowed just slightly. He inhaled deeply, his eyes drifting downward, drinking her in. He looked… hungry. Like a panther about to feast on its prey. She felt the grip in her hair loosen the tiniest bit, so she took the opportunity. She grabbed his suspenders and flipped their positions. One of his hands squeezed the back of her neck, while the other slid down to the hem of her skirt, attempting to pull it up. She kissed him, hard, bumping their noses along the way. Then she grabbed the hand that was at her thigh and laced their fingers together.

“Don’t you ever talk to me like that again, do you hear me?” She moved her mouth to his jawline, removing his tie and tossing it on the floor.

“Like what?” He barely got the words out as she released his hand and moved her own down, along the front of his pants. She sucked gently on the side of his neck, giving him a playful nip on the earlobe. His hands shook, making their way to the underside of her ass, feeling her soft cotton panties between his fingers. His eyes drifted shut, and he felt his suspenders slide down his shoulders one by one.

“Like I’m opposing counsel,” she replied, drawing his zipper down. She pushed his trousers and underwear past his hips. Her fingers wrapped through his hair, pulling on it just a little at the nape of his neck. Meanwhile, her other hand moved swiftly down his stomach, but stopped just above his cock. She stroked her thumb just barely over the tip, in small circles. His head spun. He was sure he was going to pass out.

“Do you want this, Rafael?” She purred in his ear. “Or do you want more than this?”

Words failed him. Words never failed him. But all he could manage was a shaky breath and a small nod.

Suddenly, he felt her move. And before he could open his eyes, he felt her mouth close around him. He had to stagger backward to half-sit on the back of the couch, or he would have lost his balance. It wasn’t like he had never had sex before. He’d had his share of partners since college. But he could not honestly recall ever being touched in quite this way, with this intensity and… lust.

She swirled her tongue around him, worked him with her hands. He grabbed her hair and pushed his cock even further into her mouth. The words that had failed him earlier were coming in broken strings, a mixture of Spanish and English curse words he didn’t even realize he knew. The only response he got was a moan against his dick, which reverberated and drove him even closer to the edge.

Fuck, he thought. Not yet. Dios mio, todavía no...

He pulled her to her feet, adjusted his pants, and shoved her against the nearest wall. She hastily unbuttoned his shirt, leaving it hanging open so that she could feel the warmth of his skin on hers. He put his lips back on hers, kissing her deeply, pinning her hands to her sides. He moved from her mouth, down her chin, to her collarbone. His tongue darted along her clavicle. All the while, he held her wrists to her sides, mostly because if she touched him again, he thought he might lose what little control he had left. All his senses were heightened. Lauren’s heart was beating so hard against his chest that it could have been his own heartbeat. He was keenly aware of her breathing, rapid and shallow. Her skin was turning a new shade of pink and was hot under his hands. He stopped for just a moment, and swallowed hard. Her waves were frizzing from the heat between them. There was an indent on her bottom lip where he’d bitten her. Mascara and eyeshadow had smudged beneath her eyes, and she looked close to either tears or murder. She was a mess.

A perfect mess.

“Jesus Christ,” she cried as his hands roamed across her breasts. “Just fuck me already.”

A wicked smile spread across his face.

“You know I don’t often accept plea deals,” he said. “But I will make a counteroffer.”

And he dropped to his knees, taking her skirt with him.

He wasted no time. Before she had time to process what was happening, she felt her panties come down and Rafael’s tongue curl around her clit. She almost collapsed, but he put one of her legs over his shoulder, holding onto her thigh. He lapped at her with a ferocity that rivaled his courtroom performances. She stole a glance down, and saw that he was looking back up at her.

“Raf… Rafael…” She didn’t even know what she wanted to say. Her brain couldn’t connect the words with her mouth. She wanted him to stop before she came too quickly, but she wanted him to drive her over the edge this way too. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense.

She kept pushing her hips toward him, and he had to keep pushing her back so that he could keep his attention on the spots he hit that made her shudder most. He looked up again, and she had her head back against the wall, one hand gripping the corner of it to steady herself.

When he sucked directly on her clit, she let out the loudest cry of all, and he knew he had to make a quick decision. Make her come, or make her wait. She made the choice for him - this time, it was her turn to pull him upward. He leaned against her, and she could feel all eight inches of him hard against her stomach. He pinned her hands over her head with one hand, and kissed her.

“Do you need something?” He put his free hand where his mouth had just been, sliding her clit between two of his fingers, but not touching it directly. Kissing behind her ear, he moved his fingers slowly. “I said, do you need something, cariño?”

“I… please…” She whimpered. Her head swam. She had worked so hard since she turned her life around to control everything. She had started this little interlude trying to keep control. But right now, she didn’t want to have to ask. She didn’t want to have to demand. She just wanted him to take her.

“Please WHAT?” He growled the words against her ear. Suddenly, those same two fingers curled and pushed inside her. He kept his thumb pressed against her clit but didn’t move it. He considered this payback for her teasing earlier.

Lauren didn’t know if it was possible to spontaneously combust, but she didn’t want to find out. It suddenly occurred to her that she knew exactly how to get what she wanted.

“¡Quiero que me cojas!”

That was his limit. He spun her around and bent her over the back of the couch. All it took was one fluid movement to again release his cock. He stared at her pale flesh, fingers white-knuckling the back of the couch. For one brief moment, he debated whether this was a good idea, but when she looked over her shoulder at him, he was a goner.

The second he entered her, he never wanted to leave. Admittedly, it had been a while, but he hadn’t remembered it feeling like this. Maybe he was harder than he’d ever been, or maybe she was wetter than any other woman he’d been with. But this was different. Deeper. More.

“Harder,” she gasped, and Rafael pushed into her even further. He didn’t know if he could last much longer, but he was damn sure going to try. Suddenly, seeing straight for one amazing moment, he realized what was in front of him: this gorgeous woman, bent down against him, her skin on his. She was making animalistic noises every time he pulled out, only to moan even louder when he slammed back in. It was almost pornographic.

“FUCK. Que rico se siente tu apretada chochita, mami...” He was shaking inside her. He had lost himself, all sense of restraint evaporating with each thrust of his hips. He struggled to even breathe.

Rafael was making sounds even she, with all she had experienced, had never heard a man make. He grabbed her shoulder, and she lifted her hand to wrap it around his wrist. She could feel every beautiful vein, every pulse, every inch of him. It was almost painful, but so, so delicious at the same time.

He was pushing into her faster now, to the hilt, but still with the same deliberate movements. Sweat ran down his neck and back. The heat in the apartment was almost unbearable, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything at that moment, actually. They were so loud, he half expected the entire squad to burst through the door. Not that it would have mattered; he would have kept right on fucking her in front of all of them.

“Is this how you like it? Tell me. Tell me.” He grabbed her ass with his free hand and gave it a hard squeeze.

"Oh my God, please, please don't stop. Oh, fuuuuuck!"

She felt the fabric of his pants against her legs, and then his fingers again, this time directly rubbing her clit. Her back involuntarily arched.

“Rafael… I c-can’t… I’m going t-to…” She didn’t even have to finish her sentence.

“Come. Now.” It was the power in his voice that drove her over the edge.

She screamed his name and pressed her ass back against him as much as she could. Her insides tightened. The old cliche was true: she saw stars. She was barely aware of her surroundings, but felt his grip tighten on her shoulder, his thrusts becoming more uneven as he found his own release.

He gripped her hips with every bit of strength he had left, trying to hold her in place as long as he could. He wanted to remember this feeling, in case he never felt it again. His body felt numb and tingled at once. The blood rushed from his head to his groin and back again. Then, he collapsed onto her back, leaving small kisses along her spine, trying desperately not to have a heart attack.

They stayed that way for a minute or so, slowly coming back to reality. Rafael moved first, tentatively lifting himself upright. He brought his pants back up around his hips. He saw Lauren’s panties across the room where he’d thrown them and the remnants of his orgasm between her thighs. This isn’t how it should have been, he thought. Jesus Christ. What the fuck was I thinking?

At the same time, Lauren stood up, steadying herself on the couch. She turned to face him. He was avoiding eye contact, staring at the floor, running his hand through his disheveled hair.

“Lo siento,” he said. “We should have done it better…more… well, not…”

“Rafael,” Lauren said, beckoning him to come toward her. He stepped between her legs again, and she wrapped her arms around him. When he tried to speak, she put a finger over his lips and kissed him on the end of his nose. Wiping away the sweat from his forehead, she offered him the only thing she had the energy left to give: her smile.

“You spoke Spanish,” he said.

“I did.”

“I didn’t know you knew Spanish.”

“I picked up a few choice phrases… when I was younger.” She shrugged.

Suddenly, a new wave of shame washed over him. “Lauren, I don’t want you to think I’m like… like the men who…given what we were just fighting about…”

“Shut up,” she said. “Do you see me complaining? The only complaint you’re going to hear from me about any of this is tomorrow morning, when I can’t walk.”

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jr4de · 7 years

Text

Tagged by @genderfluidintake (holy cow a thingy! I was practically confused when I saw something in my activity log, heh :D)

1ST RULE: Tag 9 people you would like to know better

2ND RULE: BOLD the statements that are true

APPEARANCE:

I am 5'7" or taller

I wear glasses

I have at least one tattoo (Nope, but I’d be happy to get one, I just haven’t)

I have at least one piercing (Nope, but I’d be happy to, I just haven’t. Lots of people think I used to have an eyebrow piercing because I have a scar there)

I have blonde hair (Nope, brown!)

I have brown eyes (Nope, kinda slate-y blue)

I have short hair (Can I like... opposite-bold this one? Because it’s so long and beautiful and I love it)

My abs are at least somewhat defined (because I’m skinny af so you can just see all my muscles)

I have or have had braces (past tense)

PERSONALITY:

I love meeting new people

People tell me that I’m funny

Helping others with their problems is a big priority for me

I enjoy physical challenges

I enjoy mental challenges

I’m playfully rude with people I know well (uuhhhhh that’s a long story but I guess suffice to say I often forget myself and try to be? And then it all goes wrong when I cross a line I didn’t know existed to begin with, heh. With time it seems like it might be getting better? Although it always seems like it’s getting better until it suddenly runs aground again, heh)

I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it

There is something I would change about my personality (Hmm. If this isn’t a question I’ve lost a lot of sleep over, I don’t know what is - but I think I’ve settled on “not”? Depending on what one counts as a personality, of course, but hey)

ABILITY:

I can sing well (I think so, at least! I was in vocal jazz for a few years and it went pretty well :D)

I can play an instrument (Alto Saxophone! Or really basic guitar but I don’t know chords or fingering or tabs, I just pluck at it until it makes the right note and then I remember it and move on to the next note, and keep going until I know a song. Heh yeah it’s a shittily slow way to learn :D but I managed Sunshine of Your Love? So that’s cool!)

I can do over 30 pushups without stopping (thanks to my time in a paramilitary organization, yes! My record remains 107 at a stretch as far as I can recall, although those were admittedly not cadenced and called so that’s not as impressive.)

I’m a fast runner (I loves me some sprinting, and marathon stuff is fun too! Treadmills=bestmills or something)

I can draw well (Ehh? Decently, I think - I had a webcomic that was decently popular, but art was never its strong suit. Still, I think I can definitely draw *decently*, but not *well*)

I have a good memory (for useless things. Not like, birthdays - but I’ll remember that one time you said you like lavender more than lilac. Of course, I’ll also remember it even once your preferences have changed, or if you misspoke in the first place, heh >.>)

I’m good at doing math in my head (Define “good” and “math” but yeah probably. I cannot estimate a number of items for shit - if there are fewer than eight but more than two, I say five; otherwise it’s just a crapshoot - but I can math, regardless!)

I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute (Well, I could last time I checked. I didn’t try today, so...)

I have beaten at least 2 people in arm wrestling (yeah but I mean some of my friends have been like really tiny, folks. I’ve also lost to like fifty :D)

I know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch (chicken sandwich, ham sandwich, baloney sandwich, done. Heh, nah, just kidding - I make a burger I call the Nutty Jerk; it’s beef and chunky peanut butter for the patty, with Jerk spice mixed in, topped with a slice of orange and a small dollop of smooth peanut butter on top of the patty that melts over it. I really like it, it’s tasty!)

I know how to throw a proper punch (Technically, two of them - boxing through personal training, Shotokan Karate through my marvellous black-belt wife :D)

HOBBIES:

I enjoy playing sports (but don’t conflate that enjoyment with skill >.>)

I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else

I’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else (Past tense? I was in one)

I have learned a new song in the past week (I mean, I looked up lyrics that I didn’t know and now I sing them when the song comes on, so...?)

I work out at least once a week

I’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months

I have drawn something in the past month

I enjoy writing (so much. So so much.)

FANDOMS ARE MY #1 PASSION

I do or have done martial arts (for like a year and then they wouldn’t let me break the boards because I was too little and that was sad. I learned way more from my wife)

EXPERIENCES:

I have had my first kiss (and my second! And third, and fourth, etc.)

I have had alcohol (Heck, I had some today! If you ever see a white Reisling from Germany, imported, in a black bottle shaped like a cat? Give it a shot - it was delicious; light and fruity and surprisingly sweet, but not quite to icewine levels)

I have scored the winning goal in a sports game (my sportsball matches were rarely winning ones, be it soccer or lacrosse. It’s likely I have, but I can’t recall for certain.)

I have watched an entire season of a TV show in one sitting (I mean, it’s not hard with Firefly, it only takes like three hours >.>)

I have been at an overnight event (what, like a sleepover? I think, no matter what, the answer’s yes)

I have been in a taxi

I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year (Thankfully, no! Maybe I’ve broken my streak! For a while there I was averaging out to once every two years, which some people might suggest is pretty frequent.)

I have beaten a video game in one day (Uh...don’t think so? Maybe.)

I have visited another country (Several!)

I have been to one of my favorite band’s concerts (Arrogant Worms, Barenaked Ladies, Blue Man Group, Tragically Hip - not in that order, per se, but I loved and love them absolutely.)

RELATIONSHIPS:

I’m in a relationship

I have a crush on a celebrity (Uhhh... define crush I guess? I think there are lots who seem like really cool folks, and pretty, but I don’t know if that counts. Sorry, attraction’s always been an odd one for me to discuss, heh)

I have a crush on someone I know (again as above? But I think I’m safe in saying there’s a yes here. Pretty sure if you and your wife have discussed stuff like that it probably counts as a crush, eh?”

I have been in at least 3 relationships (not unless the definition of “relationship” is very different to what I expect)

I have never been in a relationship

I have asked someone out or admitted my feelings to them (I’ve done both! It’s gone multiple ways :D)

I get crushes easily (???? I don’t know? Crushes? I think people are great and cute easily. Or maybe I love them? I don’t know!)

I have had a crush on someone for over a year (crushes?? Ahhh it’s all about crushes and I don’t know, but I’ve liked someone for more than a year? So I’d say it counts. Probably just overthinking it as per normal, heh >.>)

I have been in a relationship for at least a year

I have had feelings for a friend

MY LIFE:

I have at least one person I consider a “best friend” (more than one, even if we haven’t talked recently - but that’s indicative, to me. Sometimes we won’t talk for a year but then when we do, it’s comfortable and wonderful all over again. That’s how I know :D)

I live close to my school (I live close to the empty lot where my school used to be when I went there and it still existed? Also near my old Elementary school. I don’t live near my post-secondary stuff, that’s on the mainland)

My parents are still together

I have at least one sibling

I live in the United States

There is snow right now where I live

I have hung out with a friend in the past month (we went bicycling!)

I have a smartphone (now, although it took me a long time. My dad literally bought one for me while I was at work, heh >.>)

I have at least 15 CDs

I share my room with someone (I share everything with her! She’s great!)

RANDOM SHIT:

I have breakdanced (took Ukrainian dancing when I was a kid, and there’s a move called “the Coffee Grinder” [or at least that’s what they called it for us heh] that’s pretty much a breakdancing move, and I’ve pulled it out on a few occasions. It’s like, eighties breakdancing, but hey I think it counts)

I know a person named Jamie

I have had a teacher with a last name that’s hard to pronounce

I have dyed my hair

I’m listening to one song on repeat right now (nope, a whole playlist on repeat! Fad Gadget, A1 people, Art Vs Science, Shiny Toy Guns, Pendulum, Barenaked Ladies, Arctic Monkey, Kristin Andreassen, MIKA, Maximo Park, and uh... I think another one or two but I can’t remember. Heh.)

I have punched someone in the past week

I know someone who has gone to jail

I have broken a bone (really big! Broke a few, actually - hairline fracture, three bones in my right foot; spiral fracture of the left femur that nearly took my life, but I made it through! And now I have some metal rods that used to be in my bones, so that’s cool :D)

I have eaten a waffle today

I know what I want to do with my life (I know about a million things I want to do with it, heh >.> That’s not the hard part <.<)

I speak at least 2 languages (I think my conversational decency in French would count? I’m not nearly fluent, but I’d say I speak it - more than enough to get around town, certainly. Enough to talk over letters or in a slow conversation, but not enough to watch an action flick, heh)

I have made a new friend in the past year

Uh... tagging people. Yeah, that’s a little bit anxiety-inducing, so I’m just gonna pass on that? Sorry, I know it’s not playing by the rules and that kinda sucks but I honestly wouldn’t know where to start, heh, but anybody can do it if they want and say I tagged them! Thanks, it was fun!

#Info #Wow! A thingy!#This was fun and totally unexpected :D #Also I'm kinda a bit of a wreck maybe heh but it's all good :D #Sorry for not tagging anyone I feel legitimately guilty about that

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sudsybear · 7 years

Text

Changes

May was a busy month: Spring Choral concert, Honor Awards night, May Fete, AFS events, Prom, final exams, Memorial Day.

David moved in with his Dad that spring. In the weeks before the end of the school year, he packed up his room at his mom’s and moved all his stuff across town to his Dad’s town house. It meant a longer commute to school, driving every day. He ended up staying more nights at Christopher’s, and it meant he had less time for me. While I understood the reason in principle, I just didn’t like the practical effect it had on our friendship. David still keeps a letter I wrote, voicing my disdain for the move.

Ross arrived home from Wooster at the beginning of the month, unpacked his stuff in his room and went back to work at Burger King. He called my house, and asked me out for dinner and a movie. I agreed figuring it was nothing fancy, just friends having fun together. I was still David’s girl, even if I was upset with him for moving to the other side of the county.

He picked me up in his dad’s VW Rabbit, gray, maroon cloth interior. The diesel odor permeated everything. We chatted through dinner, and after the movie, he drove us back to Wyoming via “the scenic route” through the back roads of Hamilton County. We ended up at our old elementary school playground enjoying the warm evening - summer already arrived. We sat on the swings, talking, not wanting the evening to end.

An officer drove by in his cruiser, stopped and shined his spotlight on us. I walked over and asked the officer what was wrong. He explained that we needed to move on, curfew was nearing and we needed to get inside. Neighbors complained when teenagers hung out on the playground. The officer said he would check back in a while. I thanked him and agreed that Ross and I would leave in a few minutes. I said goodnight and he drove off.

Unsure of my conversation with the officer, Ross stood some distance behind me during our exchange. I called to Ross and when he approached I explained we needed to get going. We walked to the car, and reluctantly, Ross drove me home. In my parents’ driveway I thanked Ross for the evening, gave him an awkward front seat hug and a friendly kiss on the cheek, got out of the car and walked inside. I was still David’s girl, I knew that, and after that evening, so did Ross.

David was jealous and upset over my evening with Ross. David has a nasty way of dealing with his anger. He just stops talking. He won’t tell you he’s angry, he won’t admit anything is bothering him. He just stops talking. I know that now, and since I don’t have to interact with him regularly, can laugh and appreciate the idiosyncrasy from afar. But in 1984, as a peace offering and an effort to get him to talk to me again, I wrote a letter, explaining there was nothing between Ross and me. “Ross was lonely at college and I wrote letters to cheer him up. He wanted to take me out, so I went. Big deal. It was a pity-date, David. I’m still your girl. Stop pouting and talk to me.”

David still has that letter. Just as I have David’s and Ross’ letters stuffed in boxes in my basement, David has his own box of memories. Letters I’d scribbled to him from family vacations, birthday cards, valentines, all mixed in with old datebooks with homework due dates, siblings’ birthdays, and photos of various airplanes and the space shuttle. I laughed when I found the letter in his high school-in-a-box, mixed in with his datebook from senior year. I’d forgotten that bit of David’s jealousy, and smiled at the memory. We do still care for each other, though our relationship defies description. Always has.

David forgave me of sorts. He started talking to me again anyway, and as we had planned, escorted me to our Junior Prom a couple of weeks later. Getting a dress for such an event was an experience in itself. Mom and I shopped for dresses, and I didn’t particularly care for any of the fancy hoop skirts that made the girls look like Little Bo Peep meets then-popular Madonna. So Mom took me over to the fabric store and we picked out a pattern for a two-piece skirt and top combination. We scoured the bolts of cloth for something suitable – I chose a pink cotton eyelet and found the required notions.

Over the next week or so, Mom and I pinned and cut out the pattern, stitching together an outfit to wear to the Junior Prom. This was no gown with gauze or tulle, no strapless bodice requiring special underwear, this was cotton, pink, practical and comfortable. I might have worn sneakers if I thought I could get away with it. Instead, Mom and I shopped again and found pink dress flats. My daughter now wears them to play dress-up.

David planned the evening down to the last detail. He borrowed his dad's new Lincoln Continental, and practiced driving the route to the restaurant so he wouldn't get lost. Despite my protests, he bought a wrist corsage for me, so I had to buy a boutonnière. When he picked me up at the house I refused to let Dad take any photos. The whole escapade was embarrassing enough without documenting it. I wanted absolutely no evidence. Mom cried, David and I walked down the back stairway, he opened the car door for me, walked around the car as I got in and closed the door and we drove off.

David had even gone so far as to pre-check the menu to know what to order. In retrospect, all his preparation was very sweet, but at the time, embarrassing and nerve-wracking. Who was he trying to impress? Flustered, I mistook my skirt for the cloth napkin and wiped my buttery fingers all over my skirt. What a mess! This is someone worth impressing? It’s just me, David, Susan. We’ve known each other almost all our lives, you’ve known me intimately for more than a year. You don’t have to impress me. Relax, I’m yours.

After we finished eating, and David paid the bill, (I still felt awkward – was I supposed to pay? Leave tip at least?) we got back in the car and drove to the dance. The music was loud, too loud, and too raucous for my taste. But it was prom, and our friends were there – Erin and Valli and Julie and their dates and we were supposed to have fun, so we tried our best. David tried to get me to pose for a photo, but I refused, adamantly.

I excused myself to use the ladies room. Walking in I expected the usual quiet formal ladies lounge, and was assaulted with an overpowering mixture of hairspray, perfume and cigarette smoke. Girls were in tears over their boyfriends, mascara and eyeliner running down their cheeks. Others chewed great wads of gum while staring in the mirror fixing their hair, their makeup, and spritzed more perfume. They dragged on their cigarettes looking so cool, adjusted their dresses and re-stuffed their bras and passed their flasks to get even drunker. Dressed in their fancy prom dresses with long skirts and sashes, girls stepped in water pooled on the floor standing on wads of wet toilet paper and gripping the edges of the toilet seats while they vomited. I got outta there FAST!

After socializing and witnessing the coronation of Prom King and Queen with all their court, David and I left the dance, and he drove us through the night to his Mom's house. With mood music on in the family room, in the semi-darkness he worked diligently to seduce me. I was willingly seduced. Eventually, we ended up on the floor mostly disrobed. David kept saying, "Trust me, I know what I'm doing.” I wondered.

Jake (his mom's boyfriend at the time) stood in the doorway and cleared his throat…he wanted to "talk" to David. The interruption royally pissed David off. He stood up, looking so sexy in his tuxedo slacks, bare chest and feet, and walked over to Jake standing in the hall. They exchanged sharp words and the mood was broken. I was relieved.

After Jake left the room, I sorted through the afghan and clothing to put myself together, and thought through the events of the previous hour. David, you're just six months older than I am, how could you possibly know what you're doing? If you do know, then I am in big trouble. Because that means you’ve been doing things on the side without me, and that’s troubling. Dishonest. Sin of omission and all that. And if you won't tell me how you know what you're doing, (did you watch movies? Catch your sisters and their boyfriends in the act? Find a girl elsewhere and have that experience?) it means you're either lying about it in the attempt to impress me, or you're embarrassed to tell me that you’re making up all this sexual bravado. Whatever your feelings are - dishonesty, embarrassment, or the underlying need to impress me - it means deep down you don’t trust me. And since you don’t trust me, then we’re not ready for this. Two people should not be screwing around if they can’t trust each other.

After I was dressed, I walked to the kitchen and helped myself to a glass of water. I gulped it down quickly, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. I tried to talk to David and explain my discomfort. In the harsh light of the kitchen at 3 a.m., I wasn’t nearly so clear about my feelings then as I am now. I was sixteen years old, mixed up in the here and now and sex and flattery and, “God David, I really do like you. Why won’t you trust me?” He wasn’t hearing what I was trying to say. Our discussion escalated and exasperated, I finally said, “David, I’m tired. Can you please just drive me home, and we’ll talk about this later?”

He did, and we did. Talk about it later. We tried to anyway. But really, Prom night was the beginning of the end. We still had fun – a ton of it. More fun than two teenagers should be allowed to have together. We just never managed to communicate intimately with each other. The trust, if it was ever there, was broken. He never was willing to share his insecurities or vulnerabilities with me. I wrote earlier that David keeps secrets behind his brown eyes. I should clarify that he keeps secrets from me. I hope for him, that someday he finds a woman he does trust enough to share those secrets. He will be immeasurably happy.

* * *

Final exams ended the month May and after the graduation ceremony for the seniors that first week of June, the summer of 1984 was a time that good rock’n’roll songs are about. We were young, fearless, had cars to drive, money to spend, few responsibilities and lots of good friends to hang around with. That summer I drove my mom’s 1968 Buick Skylark Convertible – 2 door. (Today, I drive my own “soccer mom” minivan. I’ve been through the Escort, Sentra and Mitsbushi years as well. In Y2K two buff firefighters wrestled three car seats into the back of our ten year old Mitsubishi Galant!) But that spring and summer, I drove the convertible with the top down, the A.M. radio blaring, and good friends in the passenger seats. Both my brothers learned to drive in that car, as well as a couple of their girlfriends, so it was accustomed to teenage driving. It had been banged up, used and abused by more than one teenage driver. I inherited a legacy in that vehicle. One I tried hard to live up to.

By the time I finally got to drive it, it was white over fifteen years of body rust. The light blue vinyl interior got wicked hot when the car sat in the sun. I parked in the shade when I could, and tried to remember to fold the front seats forward. We climbed back in gingerly and once we managed to sit down on the hot seats, sweat stuck our legs to the vinyl. We could fit seven of us in that car if we needed to. The car was great, but had its challenges – which led to some fun misadventures. At various times with various friends I was stranded downtown, at the movie theater, at the mall, and even on I-75 northbound. The radiator was bad, and regularly regurgitated fluid when I parked it. Green goo inevitably bubbled up and dripped wherever I parked. The battery was spent and died on a regular basis. Dad rescued me a number of times, riding up on his motorcycle bringing the jumper cables. When he finally relented and replaced the battery, he discovered it was something like ten years old – long since past its useful life. Today? I carry a set of jumper cables with me in the car, and am a fifteen-year member of AAA.

That summer while I drove the Buick, Christopher drove his mom’s little convertible; a Fiat Spider – color “British Racing Green.” Really a two-seater, but I rode in the storage area in the back more than once. We had a friendly rivalry over whose convertible was “better” – faster, quicker, a better car to drive. Somebody told me how to peel out, and I laid rubber when and where I could. I pushed that Buick engine and transmission further than they should have been pushed – driving too fast like teenagers do. It’s a wonder the car survived as long as it did.

I applied for summer jobs, the fast food places, a couple of retail shops, but ended up lining up several babysitting jobs. I was a mother’s helper for a woman with a difficult pregnancy and a two year old. I watched two boys whose mom worked part-time as a psych nurse. She worked the 7a.m. – 3 p.m. shift. I got there early and slept on the couch until the boys woke up around 8:00 or so. We spent the day together, and I put them down for naps just as she arrived home. Weekends were mostly booked – I kept one Friday night or Saturday night free for the most part. Over all, I had five or six families using my services – I provided my own transportation and the kids seemed to genuinely like me. I didn’t save any of my earnings, but I earned enough to keep gas in the car and to avoid having to ask for too much money from Mom and Dad.

Summer 1984 was also the summer of Christopher and Julie. Christopher had a thing for Julie. That summer Julie posed as a green-eyed blonde blessed with an ample bosom and a feminine giggle-shriek that drove teenage boys crazy. I knew the blonde was from a bottle, and the green eyes were tinted contact lenses, but the boys didn’t seem to care. The giggle-shriek was enough to make them forgive anything. Just like Erin and Valli, Julie and I had been friends since elementary school, spending nights at each others’ houses, mailing postcards to each other when on vacation, sharing secrets since as soon as we knew secrets were fun to share. We rode bikes together, sang in choir together, danced together at the local club. She was smart, beautiful, talented, sweet and kind to everyone, and one of my best friends.

Julie loved Tab. Absolutely loved it. The diet drink of the ‘70s. She drank Tab like other people drink water, milk or orange juice. Gallons of it. And she had a tiny bladder. So whenever we were together somewhere, shopping at the mall, a friend’s house, the movies, dancing, she always had to pee. She peed before she left the house and again when we arrived at our destination. Like living with a toddler, we asked her, “Did you pee? There’s a bathroom here, Julie.” Some were really grungy, others average, some bathrooms were really swanky. The bathroom at Christopher’s house was a former closet under the stairs. Shower, sink and toilet, it was tiny, but sufficed; a sliding pocket door made the whole space much more efficient. There you have it. Julie peed a lot, and we spent a lot of time looking for bathrooms and waiting while Julie peed.

Julie liked Christopher, but she was still reeling from ending a 2-year high-school first-love romance of her own, and really didn’t want to encourage him. Any time Christopher called Julie to go somewhere, Julie turned around and called me. “Christopher’s going to be here in an hour, can you come up?” Of course I did. I got to Julie’s house, then ten minutes later Christopher arrived and the three of us went wherever. Christopher drove, Julie rode in the passenger seat, and I ended up in the storage space in the back. Not much more comfortable with the top down, I squeezed in whenever Julie asked me to. I spent a lot of time as a third wheel. Even so, we enjoyed a lot of fun together as a threesome. We ate a lot of ice cream, (chocolate chip in a dish to go, please) spent time just hanging out, and one summer afternoon drove over to Sunlite Pool in old Coney Island. That was a fun time.

* * *

David was as busy as I was that summer. Having moved across town to his Dad’s townhouse, he was a teenager who basically lived out of his car. He drove to work, to his activities, to Christopher’s house, to his mom’s house (did you mow the lawn YET, David?) When his body finally demanded sleep, he crashed wherever he was at the time. We drifted – what happened Prom night put a wedge between us. David’s hormones were still in high gear, he wanted a conquest, but I was not about to be seduced. I wasn’t ready for that experience yet, at least not with David. I loved him without question. Still do.

The guys discovered spelunking. Somebody met somebody who invited them on an excursion, and they were hooked. David, Igor, Moj, Greg, and the occasional, “Sure I’ll go” volunteers. It worked out pretty well; David planned a weekend to visit some cave in southern Indiana or central Kentucky and I arranged a baby-sitting job. We met and spent time together the other weekend night. Over the summer a couple of proposals were made to bring the girls along. Beth and I were up for it, as was Julie. We figured if enough girls wanted to go we could convince the parents, especially with adult spelunkers supervising the trip. Despite all the talk, we never managed to get it together to get the girls to go. Scheduling conflicts, parental objections, and a real fear of, “Do we really want to do this?” all helped to keep the girls from ever going.

Victor graduated in June and within weeks shipped off for basic training. In order to finance college, he joined the Ohio National Guard as a reservist. That meant boot camp. We threw a farewell party for him, and off he went.

Since Ross was home, he didn’t need my letters. I snagged Victor’s address and sent him snippets of our escapades at home. I think his C.O. ordered him to answer each of my letters, as I have a stack from his time at boot camp. I’m sure Victor got all sorts of ribbing from his fellow soldiers-in-training, they probably thought I was a lovesick girlfriend who missed her man desperately. He and I both knew that wasn’t the case, but how was he to explain otherwise?

I sent him copies of his replies while working on this project, hoping for reciprocity, but Victor long since purged such ephemera. It’s a shame, because those letters were likely full of the banalities of teenage angst and shenanigans. I know I vented my frustrations with David, and told stories of making up and having fun. Lots of, “David and I went to Skyline.” “Boyd made Beth angry.” “Here’s a noseflute to keep you entertained.” His replies seem endearing and laughable now, although I hope that at the time I was more sympathetic. His letters are full of “I hate this place,” “I’m so lonely,” “I can’t stand this,” and “We can’t figure out the noseflute.”

Several girlfriends were gone that summer too. Liz spent the summer at music camp in Aspen, CO, with her cello, and Shari spent the summer away at camp. I kept writing letters…I just had a different audience.

* * *

In July, a group of guys took a road trip to a family-member’s cabin in Canada. Because David now lived across town, for convenience he left his car parked in the cul-de-sac at Christopher’s house. Those of us left at home decided to welcome David home by decorating his car like people do for weddings; soap the windows, steal the distributor cap, etc. In our enthusiasm for the project (we did convince one of the more enthusiastic parties to NOT remove the tires!) we were loud and disturbed the neighbors who called the police. The Buick was parked in a neighbor’s driveway. The police knew the car was mine to drive – my mother had been driving it to Life Squad calls for years. And since I was on friendly terms with them thus far through middle and high school, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get away with anything. My friends scattered into the woods and down the hill, leaving me to deal with the officer who arrived.

I was escorted home, and told to appear in juvenile court. It was a private proceeding, and the police really wanted me to name who I was with that evening. Some of my friends probably did have reason to be wanted by the authorities. They were mischief-makers, and needed to be warned. But the particular incident that led to my arrest was benign. We were soaping windows and tying TP to a friend’s car…mild vandalism at best. I refused to name names. A hard lesson to learn, it was a lesson in loyalty. I was grounded for a few weeks, my parents kept a closer eye on me – but all in all I gained respect from my peers, and from the police. I found out years later that for his efforts, the arresting officer endured no small amount of grief from his co-workers.

* * *

In between babysitting jobs, I drove the eight miles across the Cross County Highway to David’s Dad’s a few times. David invited me for a Saturday morning brunch with his family. He neglected to mention it was a family affair. I showed up, expecting David, his Dad, his Dad’s girlfriend, and me – and overwhelmed with two sisters a brother-in-law and an infant nephew. Not only that but it was Kosher! David, I go to the Methodist church, I don’t know kosher dietary laws, although I’m learning! For all that preparation you did for Valentine’s dinner and prom night, you could have warned me about that one. There is a happy medium.

Another afternoon David called me up and told me to come on over. His Dad was gone for the day and we could have some fun - wink, wink, nudge, nudge, know what I mean? So I drove across town, rang the bell, and David let me in. Something inspired a clean-up – I spilled a drink, I dropped a snack, something. We dug around in the utility closet for cleanup gear and then filled the bucket at the sink. At this point we were silly, and getting sillier by the second. A splash of water here, a splash of water in retaliation, then one of us filled a Dixie cup, and the other of us flung a wet washcloth. The wrestling began and the water fight was well underway. After we mashed each other’s lips together for a while and groped each other’s erogenous zones, we calmed down and looked around us. His Dad (codename Einstein) would be home soon and we needed to pull a Cat in the Hat and get Thing One and Thing Two to help us clean up. We got most of it done, but David was grounded for a few days for our escapade - something about no guests.

In between caving trips, trips to Canada, and doing video favors for the schools, David helped out at his Dad’s photography studio. His Dad had a contract with several hospitals in town to take photos of the newborns. If a new mother agreed, a photo was taken of the infant in the nursery, then proofs were sent home. If a family wanted to order, they did. Thousands of proofs were returned to the company. David’s Dad re-used the envelopes and ordering materials. One hot August afternoon David and I pulled baby photos out of the packages. Thousands of photos of babies; Anglo babies, Black babies, brown babies, Asian babies. Funny looking babies, babies with Mohawks, babies with mops of black hair, babies with birthmarks, babies with cone heads, babies with ears that stick out, mashed noses and port wine stains. So many babies, David and I got the giggles looking at all of them. Some were really ugly, and some were absolutely beautiful. Anyone who says, “all babies are beautiful” is absolutely correct in that all babies are born with a potential that is undeniably beautiful. But, as for old fashioned “good looking” in the photographs? There are some butt-ugly babies out there. Watching my own children, I know now that what a baby looks like as a newborn has little to do with how handsome he will be as he grows. But that afternoon, David and I could only speculate – and felt very sorry for some of those babies. We figured they were destined to be delinquents, just because of their looks.

* * *

I saw Ross just a few times over the summer. Nothing formal, we didn’t spend substantial time together. On occasion we stopped by the Burger King drive-thru and razzed Ross while he worked. Working Burger King wasn’t his favorite thing to do, but the job kept him busy enough that he didn’t have time to think. And he got paid, and he liked the paycheck. Ross was never afraid of work. Hard work, boring work, a job meant a paycheck and a paycheck meant freedom. Besides, the job provided comic relief. His mimicry of co-workers and customers provided wonderful fodder for entertainment of friends and family.

When he wasn’t pulling a shift at Burger King, Ross mowed lawns. That was hard physical labor, and an integral part of the underground economy. In the summer heat with a standard 24” deck push mower, no self-propelled luxury, he pushed and pulled that mower up and down hills, around tree trunks and along shrubbery, maintaining the suburban landscape we had grown up with. The work was physically demanding, and mentally taxing. He was left alone with his thoughts. Too much time to think, dream, fantasize and plan, sometimes time was a blessing and sometimes a curse. Better to be swamped filling fry orders at the drive-thru window.

I saw him out mowing a neighbor’s lawn and interrupted him to chat. I flirted, but he was cool and aloof (or so I thought). I was David’s girl, and he was busy with his own friends who were home for the summer. We ended up at the same house only a couple of times – Anna’s living room or Igor’s basement. Once again, he and I left when the going got tough and we walked together. Just walk, talk, and enjoy each other’s company. Gossip and talk about music. I asked questions. He listened to me ramble. We went back, and all was well again.

* * *

Beth’s Dad and step-mom were avid outdoor enthusiasts and expert canoeists. They agreed to chaperone an outing. At least a dozen of us went on the trip, the same core group who went sledding just a few months previous, plus a few new faces we scraped up to get the group discount. We packed coolers with food, borrowed the necessary cars, and drove to the canoe rental place on the Little Miami River.

By this time in August, David and I were not speaking to each other. We’d had a tiff of some sort; the separation strained us. David’s freedom frightened me. He wanted sex, and I wasn’t ready. He had no patience for that. Fundamentally, I didn’t trust David. He kept things from me – his drinking, his smoking, details of adventures with the guys. We’d been inseparable for a full school year, we were ready to move on. But each reluctant to let go – funny, I don’t remember a particular “break-up” scene. Perhaps we just drifted.

Still friendly, it was no secret that David had the hots for Mandy, Beth’s younger sister. David had his little fantasy, and I knew that. He and I were not talking about what we both knew was inevitable. We were moving on. So while David and Mandy canoed together, Ross and I were partners for the day.

Comfortable if sitting still, it was a hot lazy day. Too hot to paddle on the river in the afternoon sun of course we splashed each other and encouraged water fights to cool off. The river was low, exposing a lot of sandbars. Ross and I managed to swamp the canoe while getting out at one for lunch break. Everything got wet and we got the giggles. Years of canoeing with Girl Scouts, I was a better canoeist than that, and he and I both knew it.

After lunch, as we paddled along we dug our paddles into the bottom of the river and pulled up a perfectly good Lands’ End rugby shirt. We considered mailing it back to the company for their “Guaranteed. Period.” offer, but Ross took it home and ran it through the washer. I don’t remember if he ever wore it – seems to me he tried it on at least. I wonder what happened to that shirt?

In late August, my parents and I did a tour of the Great American Midwest to look at colleges – Marquette, Northwestern, University of Wisconsin @ Madison, St. Olaf’s, Macalester College in Minneapolis-St. Paul. We celebrated my seventeenth birthday in Chicago. Dad worked, attending business meetings of one kind or another, and Mom took me shopping. I still have the watch we bought that day.

I sent David a couple of post-cards from Milwaukee. But the true highlight of the trip was attending a live broadcast of “A Prairie Home Companion.” Long live Minnesota Public Radio! On the way home, at a Pizza Hut in Iowa, Dad developed a nasty intestinal problem and the “Farkle Family” was born. (Who has the Pizza Hut bag?) Fred, Fannie and their daughter Sparkle made a scene in the restaurant that should never be repeated in any restaurant anywhere. Well, maybe for an Adam Sandler movie.

While I was gone, David hosted an old-fashioned square-dance hoe down in the back yard at his mom’s. Those who attended the event had a great time. They remember it well. “Boyfriends don’t do that,” is what I thought, and knew that was the end of David’s and my relationship as intimates.

Ross left for his sophomore year at Wooster. Mom and Dad and I arrived back into town and I started my Senior year of high school.

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bluntzzz · 7 years

Text

What do you want for your birthday? I did not want anything, I did not get a lot. I was more than fine with that.

What’s your favorite flavor of tea? Peppermint.

What’s your favorite fall drink? Don't have one.

What’re you going to be for Halloween? Probably nothing.

Do you think you’ve learned a lot and grown a lot in the past year? I suppose. Always growing, always learning.

Are you satisfied with how you’ve spent your year? Eh, not really. I spent a lot of time stress eating. I need to spend this year getting healthy.

What’s something you’ve learned lately? Two dogs is exponentially more difficult than one.

Do you have a lot of friends? Sure.

Do you own a yellow scarf? Nope.

Do you own brown shoes? I do.

Do you own anything leopard print? Nope.

Will you buy a cake for your next birthday? Nope. I didn't even have a cake. Which I am fine with, really.

Are you counting down the days until your birthday right now? No.

Are you excited for something currently? Dinner with my love.

If you could change just one thing about your life right now, what would it be? I would have more money.

What’s your favorite color? Brown.

Have you ever been to a school dance? Yes.

Do you make a list of goals at the beginning of each week? Perhaps I should.

Are you artistic? So people tell me.

When was that last time you drew a picture in a sketchbook? Two nights ago.

Is there a tree right outside your bedroom window? Nope.

Is it windy right now where you are? Uh, I think?

Is it raining? Thankfully no.

What’s something about you that makes you different from everyone else? I cook extravagant meals and bake some sweet goods as a hobby. I am still in my twenties.

Do you dress the same way as your peers? Maybe? I don't know. I just wear jeans, Chucks, and some kind of shirt.

Do you talk the same way as your peers? Kind of, in some ways.

Do you have the same life goals as your friends? My friends and I all differ in terms of what we want.

Are you having a good day? I am tired and cold. I am ay work and I have no work to do. It could be better.

Is your hair red? Nope.

Do you like brownies? I don't dislike them, but I don't go out of my way to eat them.

Have you ever dressed up as a witch on Halloween? Yes. That was my favorite when I was a kid.

What’s one color that you never wear because it doesn’t look good on you? Red.

Have you ever been to a masquerade? No, but how fun would that be?

Do you eat vegetables? Certainly.

Do you wear leggings? Not really, no. Only if I have a long duster or a long sweater. Something has to be covering my ass.

Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? Sure.

Who is the most inappropriate person you know? My fiance.

What year in your life do you think you were the least attractive? Does it really matter if you're attractive under the age of 13? It doesn't fucking matter. So never. I mean, in the moment I used to think I was ugly, when I was an insecure teenager.

Did anything bad happen to you in August? Not that I can recall.

Who in your phone has a heart after their name? No one.

What was the last movie you watched? With who? I know I watched a movie recently with Will... I just can't remember what it was. Oh well.

Anything you’re avoiding? Eh, not really.

If you could have one thing right now what would it be? Money.

If your parents searched your room, would they be angry at what they’d find? They would probably be a bit disgusted at how messy it is. Not that there is a disgusting mess. It's just... clothes everywhere.

Do you think anyone has feelings for you? I am sure of it, and then some.

Have you given somebody more second chances than you can count? Of course.

After breaking up, what’s the worst? Losing a friend.

Do you think your last ex deserves to die? No.

Do any girls like the last guy you kissed? I know they used to. I am not sure anymore.

Are you happier now than you were three months ago? That's hard to say. I measure my happiness by the moment. I am happy now. That is all that matters.

Honestly, are things going the way you planned? Plans are made to be broken. I try not to plan too much.

Have you done anything sexual today? Nope.

Is there something you want to say to someone but can’t or won’t? Not that I can think of.

Do you have a second mom? Nope.

Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to? Nah.

***

Describe your most recent purchase: Coffee, muffin, gasoline.

Did you enjoy the last movie you watched in theatres? Yeah, it was Deadpool. Very awesome.

If you make surveys, where’s the last place you saw a survey made by you on another person’s site? ---

Do you take the subway train often (if your city has one)? No subway.

What shoes did you wear today? Teal Chucks.

Who was the last person to leave you a comment on Facebook? Pfft who fucking knows. I uninstalled that shit.

Does your sibling have a significant other? My brother is married, my sister has a fling of sorts.

When and why is the last time you cried (or at least, shed tears)? Will and I had gotten in an argument.

Have you ever cried at a real wedding? Yeah.

How would you feel if a girl asked your boyfriend out for a drink? Really depends. If it was blatantly a pass, I would not be too happy. Not because I don't trust him, but because there's no point in hanging with someone you know wants in your pants.

Do you use Skype? Used to.

What do your flipflops look like? Strappy black.

Any idea what you want for your next birthday? No.

Describe a poster on your wall. I have a framed Super Smash Bros. poster on the wall of my office. More to come.

Are there any gadgets of yours that need charging right now? Not that I know of.

What do you use to remove makeup? Makeup remover wipes. Or I rub my eyes late at night, get all Alice Cooper.

Do you have articles of clothing that are leopard print? No.

Tilt your head up and look straight ahead. Describe what you see. Off white drop ceiling. Blinding flourescent lights.

Which awards show would you wanna go to the most (e.g Oscars, Grammys etc.)? None. I think I have done this survey before. Wtf. I rarely ever do these anymore...

Any idea what time you’ll be going to bed tonight? With any luck, not for a long time.

Do you think George Clooney is hot? He has his moments where he is being funny and his face doesn't look too round.

Name some models you think are hot. I don't know any models.

Have you ever participated in local magazine cover girl searches? No, but I had a friend who did, and I went with her. It was awkward af.

Have you ever bought a lottery ticket (and even better: won?) I won like $20, ha.

What colour is your keyboard? Black.

Do you keep the plastic/paper/whatever bags after you buy stuff? Enough to fill a small box in my kitchen, then I begin to throw the rest away.

Do you own any high waisted pants? Nope.

What’s the craziest thing you’ll ever do to your hair? Nothing crazy anymore.

Do you know anyone who has two different coloured eyes? Nope.

Does your significant other like the same colour as you do? Yes.

Do you wanna be a pirate or an elf? Elf. Pirates are still human.

Have you ever purchased anything online? NO NEVER HOW DO YOU DO THAT

What’s your favourite classic Disney movie (no, Camp Rock doesn’t count)? I don't know.

Gold or silver accessories? Silver, always.

Would you have minded living in the 18th century? I might not have minded it if I didn't know what the 21st century had to offer. Now that I am here, I can't imagine living anywhere else.

Have you ever been called a skank/slut because of the way you dress? Yeah.

Name all your friends whose name starts with the 4th letter of your first name. Shanna, Shelia, Steve.

What websites do you absolutely have to visit daily (or at least, every time you get to go online)? Nothing. I don't do anything every day.

Have you ever ridden an elephant? Nope.

Where did you get that outfit you’re wearing now? Jeans are from American Eagle, got the tank top from Target, got the duster from Gabe's.

Are you a fan of acrylic nails? No.

***

1. Hey, what’s your name? Kristi.

2. How old were you when you got your first cellphone? 18.

3. Weren’t you just tingling with excitement? No. I did not want a cell phone. I still don't want a cell phone.

4. How many belts do you own? One. I never wear it.

5. If you had to live with one pair of shoes, what would they be? Chuck Taylors. Low top.

6. Do you believe in love at first sight? No. Lust.

7. How about forevers? Forevers? What does that mean? People who stay together "forever"? Or the concept of forever, like time everlasting?

This raises more questions than it provides answers...

8. What’s your comfort food? Food.

9. What do you use your cellphone for, aside texting and calls? Music, emailing, web browsing, time checking, weather, buying dumb shit on the internet, price checking...

10. Did you ever ride a limo? No.

11. Do you use a lot of hair products? No.

12. Creepiest movie ever? If I think about The Descent too much, or The Ring, it will freak me out.

13. Do you ever wonder what your life looks like to someone else’s eyes? Yeah.

14. Have you ever walked into a crowded room and felt so alone? Sure.

15. Did you ever stay up all night? Yes.

16. Do you like cracking your knuckles? I don't like it, particularly.

17. What colour is your car? Dark silver.

18. Did you ever do something you promised yourself not to? Certainly.

19. Didn’t it feel good? Um, that depends.

20. What’s the ‘craziest’ color you dyed your hair? I have dyed my hair every color. Think of a color. My hair has been that color.

21. Do you like paranormal stuff? Uh sure.

22. Do you believe in those? I don't really fully believe in anything other than my personal experience.

23. Do you have a favorite stuff toy? Nope.

24. What’s the most exciting project you were given? I've had plenty of projects.

25. Are you familiar with Polyvore? These fucking old ass surveys. I checked this website out last time I took this, and it was a booty ass website. You should feel bad for promoting it.

26. If so, do you have an account? ---

27. Did you accomplish your New Years Resolutions last year? No.

28. What are you passionate about? I am passionate about a lot of things, especially smoking and playing video games on my comfortable couch.

29. Are you guilty of internet slang? Occasionally.

30. Would you rather be hurt physically or emotionally? It doesn't matter, they both suck.

31. Were you ever truly and completely happy with yourself? Yes.

32. Is your life balanced right now? Always unbalanced. Shake things up, keep it interesting.

33. If you can’t be with the one you love, will you be with the one who loves you? I do love me, even when I am with my love.

34. What’s your favorite scent? I just really like scents. Olfactory is the best.

35. Are/were you forced to believe something you don’t? No. No one should be able to force you to believe something. Belief is something you hold inside, it's a personal relationship. That subject may have been suggested to you, but you chose to believe it.

If you honestly believe you were forced to believe something, you should re-evaluate your life.

36. Are you very dependent on people? No. I like being away from people. I like space.

37. Do you let small things ruin your day? Nah. I can't stay mad very long.

38. Do you over-analyze things? Eh, I might, but I used to let it get to me. I've learned where to put it.

39. Did you ever wonder what life would be in a stranded island? I mean, I guess. I would die, miserably... so there's that.

40. Do you have a good sense of direction? Yeah. I am constantly surprised how many people don't. My friends are always shocked and amazed by my ability to navigate a city I've only been to once.

41. Are you excited for what the future holds for you? In a sense, yes.

#survey #surveys

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