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just-my-sickly-pride · 5 years ago

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Debut || Roger Taylor x fem!Reader

summary || you’re twenty years old, a full-time uni student, and you’re living out of home. money is tight. so, naturally, you decide to sell your virginity to the highest bidder. when you get an offer from some guy in his mid-thirties, you put on your nicest dress and head on over. but there’s a problem: he has no idea who you are, or why you’ve turned up at his house at nine o’clock at night. maybe things aren’t going to be as simple as you’d hoped. modern day au.

rating || explicit, with fluff dotted throughout. 18+ only. do not read if you are under eighteen. the age gap between reader and roger is sixteen years.

word count || about 17.7k.

author’s notes || welcome one and all to my very first fic on this blog! i pictured roger circa ‘85 (specifically live aid) for this fic. this fic is also dedicated to my friend and fellow mid-thirties-Roger enthusiast Jennifer @mrfahrenhcit (i couldn’t find a way to work in everything you asked, but i’ve saved some of them for the next roger fic that’s in the works). fun fact: this is the first reader fic where i’ve used ‘Y/N’. some people have said they’d had issues with this post being extremely slow to load, or the app has crashed - i think it’s just bc it’s so long, and i apologise for the inconvenience. [i am a proud member of the anti-cross-tagging club.]

masterlist

You don’t think you’ve ever felt more nervous before in your entire life. You’ve wiped your sweaty palms on your dress ten times in the past two minutes, and your heart hasn’t stopped racing from the moment you woke up this morning.

What are you doing? Seriously, what the fuck are you doing?

Well, that’s the thing. You know exactly what the fuck you’re doing.

You aren’t doing it out of embarrassment, or anything to do with pride. You don’t feel pressured, not by anyone, not even by society, fuck society, but you saw some dumb article about it – it was hardly even an article, just gossip – and it gave you the idea, and then you were doing some research about it, just for the money, it’s just for the money, you’ve been living out of home for two years now and life’s still kicking you in the ass, so why wouldn’t you do it for money, if you could? And you can. So you went onto some website and snooped around to check for at least some sign of legitimacy, and then, well, you were making an account, and you made an account, and uploaded some photos that you never thought you’d upload to the Internet, and, a couple weeks later, you found out that someone had chosen you. Chosen you.

And now here you are.

On your way to a strange man’s house.

To lose your virginity to him.

Because he’s paid for it.

Well, he’s paid half. The other half comes… after.

And you’re not nervous about the actual sex part, you suppose, but more about the fact that you’re going to a stranger’s house for sex. Does that make you a sex worker? Could you call someone who played guitar in one gig and got paid for it, but never got paid for it again, a musician?

Probably. But maybe that isn’t the best comparison.

You don’t know much about this guy. Just his address, his name, his age – thirty-six, could be worse, to be fair – and that he’s obviously got plenty of cash to spare. And he’s definitely not the sort of guy you want to have around. Seeing as, y’know, he’s paid a twenty-year-old virgin to have sex with him.

The Uber pulls up to a stop in front of a house. It’s dark outside, almost nine in the evening, so the house is hard to make out, but it’s quite a nice place, very white-picket-fence. Something out of a magazine catalogue about the suburbs. You thank your Uber driver and grab your oversized handbag, climbing out of the car.

You close the door behind you.

The Uber drives off.

And you’re alone on the sidewalk.

You hoist the handbag onto your shoulder. It’s got a couple of things you think you’ll need – condoms, lube, two change of clothes depending on what this guy is after. You think you look more than nice enough in your heels and tight, black dress, but just in case.

You glance at your phone, double-checking the address. You send a quick message to your best friend Justine: at the house. will keep u updated.

She’s the only one who knows; and she only knows because you figured that at least someone should know, if something goes wrong.

Good God, you’re hoping nothing goes wrong. Not in that way. Not in any way, really.

And again, you’re back to asking yourself what the fuck you’re doing.

You take a deep breath, and start heading up the front path.

Your hands are shaking by the time you reach the front step, but you force yourself to raise a fist and rap your knuckles on the door. The automatic porch light is yellow, and you can’t help but feel irked by how unflattering it is.

You can hear movement inside the house. A part of you is searching for the sound of kids, although God forbid there’s any to be heard. But a guy like this… Well, your first conclusion is that he’s looking for an affair.

You really don’t want to be some kind of mistress. But, you suppose, this is really just a business transaction, so you’re free of at least most of the guilt, right? All of it, if you actually have no idea if he’s married.

Please don’t mention your wife, you pray. Don’t implicate me or whatever.

Finally, the door opens, and you feel like you’re about to throw up your heart onto your feet. But you push it down, and drink in the man in front of you.

If you weren’t sure before if he was a dad, now it’s unmistakable. He’s slim, and reasonably tall – not remarkably so, but still tall – and he’s dressed in loose jeans and a blue flannel that he has rolled up to his elbows. His hair is blond, sort of shaggy, sort of spiky, like he spends his time running his hands through it. You idly wonder what it’d feel like in your hands. Guess you’ll find out soon enough.

But the thing that really knocks your socks off is the big blue eyes that blink at you, framed by eyelashes that you’d kill to have yourself. Those eyes flash down to your outfit, and then back up at your face.

Okay. Maybe this whole thing won’t be that bad at all.

You give him your most winning smile. “Hi,” you say in a way that you hope is both alluring and professional.

He blinks at you again. “Hi,” he says, his eyes wide. His gaze flits up and down your body, like he’s trying to compute what he’s seeing in front of him. “Um, hello. What, uh– Can I help you?”

His voice is soft, softer than you were expecting. Gentle, almost.

You lick your lips and shift your feet. “I’m, ah, Mandy. Are you Roger? Taylor?” Your name is fake, of course. You’re not sure about his. Not that it matters.

“Yes, that’s me,” Roger says. He scratches the back of his head. “Uh, I’m sorry, you’re, um, lovely, but I don’t think I know you.”

Huh. Odd. Is this a foreplay thing? “We have an appointment. You booked me two weeks ago, and you gave me this date and this time,” you prompt unsurely.

Roger’s brow crumples. “An… appointment?”

You feel your face starting to heat up. You almost ask if you have the right address, but no, you already know that he’s Roger Taylor, he’s the one who booked, so you must have it right. “Yeah,” you say. “You, um…” You lower your voice a touch. “You already paid in advance. This is pretty much a done deal, but I’m just here to fulfil my end of the bargain. And then, of course, you’ll have to pay me the other half.”

Roger’s starting to look a little pale now, and you’re not quite sure what to do with that. His eyes dart down to your outfit and back up to your face. “Pay you?” he says. “I’ve– what? I’ve paid you? What did I pay you? When?”

Now you’re both embarrassed, and confused, and well, this isn’t something you’d pictured going wrong.

You suddenly feel very exposed in your tight dress and heels.

“Uh.” You scratch behind your ear. “Like, I don’t know what to tell you. You’ve booked me, and I’m here. And it wasn’t a small sum of money, so I doubt you’d want to…”

Roger’s mouth opens, and then closes, and opens again. “Oh, shit, hang on,” he says, his voice flat, “did I… Was this all booked and arranged two weeks ago on the Friday night?”

“Yes,” you say. “Why?”

Roger sighs heavily, and rubs his eyes. “Oh, shit,” he moans. “For God’s…” He raises his head, and sighs again. “Look, um, Mandy, there’s been a big misunderstanding. I, um, went through a divorce, er, relatively recently, a few months ago, and I’ve been doing a bit of wallowing, I guess you could say, and my friends tried to cheer me up a fortnight ago on Friday by bringing round a few bottles of very nice whiskey and gin. I don’t remember a lot of that night, but, now that you mention it, I have some vague memory of my friends trying to get me to, you know, ‘move on’, and, um, I think they might have looked up… people online.”

Your ears are really burning now. “Oh,” you say.

“That’s what this is, isn’t it?” Roger adds. “You’re a…”

“Not really,” you blurt. “Kind of. It– oh, man.” You bite your bottom lip, hesitating, not quite sure how much to reveal about the situation. “Okay, I’ll be honest. Yes, I’m… from a website. But I’m not – this isn’t a living, or a side gig, or whatever. Not that it would matter if I was, because there’s nothing wrong with…” You shake your head. Stay on track. “It’s just a one-off. You paid me to… to take my virginity.”

You swear you can see Roger’s soul leaving his body in that moment. “You– I what?”

You shrug helplessly.

Roger takes a step back, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry for the confusion,” you say, and your stomach sinks further when a realisation comes to you. “I…” You swallow. Your mouth is dry. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t – The money you gave me. I’ve done this to help pay bills and rent and everything, and it’s already been used. A chunk of it, anyway. I can’t refund you. I’m really sorry.”

“No, God, don’t apologise,” Roger says. “You weren’t to know.” He shakes his head. “Fucking dickheads, the lot of them.” He looks to you, and warily inspects your face. “How old did you say you were?” His voice is small, like he’s scared of the answer.

“Twenty,” you reply, and his shoulders sag in relief.

“Thank God,” he says. “I mean, still, you’re so young, but at least you’re…”

“An adult?”

He nods, grimacing sheepishly. “I really am being honest when I say I don’t remember much of that night. My mates aren’t those sorts of people, but, well, who knows what they’d try to pull when they’re pissed.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say. “I look young for my age. But I am twenty.”

“No, I believe you,” Roger says quickly. “I’m not… No.”

You wipe your palms on your dress again. What now? Do you just go home? That wasn’t the cheapest Uber ride you’ve ever had. You were kind of relying on that extra money.

Roger seems equally at loss. “You– Did you have to travel far?”

“Not that far,” you say. “Forty minutes-ish.”

“Fuck,” Roger says. He puts his hands on his hips, and then drops them again. “What time is it? It’s nearly nine, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, about nine.”

“It’s late. You should be getting home.”

Your heart sinks. Wow. Okay. This is really just over like that. “Um, yeah, I guess,” you say. You take half a step back. “I’m really sorry about the– the, um, whole mix-up thing. And sorry about your divorce.”

Great. Real smooth.

“Thanks,” Roger says. He hesitates, and you’re about to turn and head back down the driveway, when he says, “How are you getting home? Did you drive?”

“Uh, no,” you say. “Uber.”

“Uber? God, no, sod that,” Roger says. “Let me…” He fumbles for something in his back pocket, but comes up empty. “Let me pay for it. I don’t– Can I pay you for it?”

“It’s all right,” you reassure him. “You’ve already given me– it’s okay.”

“No, please, I insist,” he says. “Should I– cash? I can give you cash. Or… transfer…” He rolls his eyes at himself, those pretty blue eyes that shouldn’t belong to a man his age, but somehow suit him perfectly. “God,” he mutters. “I usually have things more together than this, I promise. I’ve just been caught beyond off-guard.”

“Sorry,” you say again.

“It’s not your fault, really, I don’t– How could I blame you? You had no idea. I am going to murder my friends.” He sighs, rubbing his temple. “Um. Okay. I’ve paid you before, haven’t I, if you got the deposit? How did I do it? I can just do it that way again.”

“You transferred it to me,” you say. You shift in your heels. Your feet are starting to ache.

“Let’s do it that way again, then,” Roger says. “I’ll just get my phone, sorry.”

“It’s okay, really,” you say yet again, stopping him. “Don’t bother. I’ll– It’ll take me two minutes and then I can be on my way home.”

Roger hovers, and then says, “Can I– Did you want to wait inside? Or out on the steps? Could I get you some water, at least?”

You hesitate. “Um–”

“I’m not trying to do anything,” Roger blurts, and then he shakes his head. “Now it sounds like I am trying to do something. I’m not. Really. If you want, you can just wait here and I’ll go inside and leave you alone.”

You glance at your phone. You haven’t ordered the Uber yet, but you are pretty thirsty. You look back up to Roger. “Well, I already had it in my head that I was coming here to sleep with you, so I’m not really concerned about you trying anything,” you say. “Some water sounds nice, actually.”

Roger laughs. Like his voice, it’s unexpectedly soft, and it makes you smile.

“Um. Yes,” he says, glancing at his feet. “Well. Um, come on in, then.”

You head back up the path, and Roger steps aside to let you in.

You slip past him. He smells good.

His house, on the inside, is just as white-picket-fence as it is on the outside. Not the tidiest, but you suppose he wasn’t expecting company.

He seems to notice the slight mess the same moment you do, and he hurriedly darts forward to tidy up.

“Sorry,” he says.

“No, don’t worry about it,” you say.

He bends down to grab an empty beer bottle from where it sits on the floor next to the couch. Nice ass.

Not that it matters. You aren’t sleeping with him anymore. But, to be fair, you are only human. Just because you’re no longer ordering doesn’t mean you can’t admire the menu.

“I, uh, wasn’t expecting any guests, obviously,” Roger adds, half-jokingly.

You chuckle, and adjust your dress. Roger’s eyes flash down to your hands, then to your chest where you’ve pulled the dress down a little further in your adjustment, and then he quickly looks away, running his hand along his jaw.

“Uh, um,” he says. “Water? Um– take a seat, by the way. Feel free to sit…” He gestures vaguely around him. “Sit anywhere. Anywhere you like.”

“Um, okay,” you say, and hesitate, before awkwardly perching on his couch.

“Sorry, did you say you wanted water?” Roger says.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” you say.

“Yeah, of course,” Roger says, and then disappears into the kitchen.

You breathe in a lungful of air and slowly let it out. Wow. Talk about an unexpected evening.

You take out your phone and message Justine. boy do I have a story to tell u.

She’s online, and she replies immediately. fuck what’s happened?? everything alright??

You bite your lip, considering how to reply. yeah I’m fine. the guy is super easy on the eyes, but there’s been a mix up and basically I am remaining firmly in the virgin zone for the foreseeable future lol.

You backspace and try again. yeah I’m fine. long story short I’m coming home. tell u about it when I get there.

is he ugly?? Justine replies, and you can’t help but smile in amusement.

oh no, that’s not the issue even a little bit, you reply.

“I’m assuming tap water is fine?” Roger says, reappearing with a glass of water, making you jump slightly and flip your phone face-down on your leg, as if he could somehow see the screen from across the room. “Sorry, I should’ve asked. I don’t really have anything else.”

“No, no, tap water is fine, thank you,” you say, and he hands the glass to you.

You take a sip.

Roger glances away, seemingly looking for something to do or something to say, as if the answer is written in the walls. He chews on his thumbnail.

Your mind scrambles to find something to say, but it feels like trying to eat soup with a fork.

“Is everything all right?” Roger asks suddenly, looking to you. “I know this is probably completely inappropriate, but… Well, paying for someone to…”

Your stomach sinks with embarrassment. “Oh,” you say. “Um. Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. Just – could do with the money.”

“Of course, yeah,” Roger says hurriedly, nodding. “You’re at uni?”

“Yeah. And living out of home, so.”

“Right. Yeah, of course, I should’ve guessed. Sorry, that was…”

“No, it’s fine,” you say with a reassuring smile. You chuckle. “I’m sorry for disrupting your evening like this.”

“No, no, it…” Roger smiles, and you feel every trace of oxygen leave your lungs, because wow, he’s attractive. “It’s a welcomed interruption, actually.”

“It is?”

“Well, all I had planned was to watch something shit on Netflix and drink beer,” Roger says, screwing up his nose. “Not exactly exciting.”

“Oh, don’t let me stop you,” you say. “Sounds like they were big plans.”

Roger laughs, and your heart thuds against your ribcage. “The sort of plans that sound much nicer when you have company, I think.” He pauses. “Not that– not that I’m expecting you to–” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Really, I’m not usually this… awkward.”

“You don’t have to apologise,” you say, shaking your head.

“I used to be a real ladies’ man, you know,” Roger says. “Back in the day. Before my wi– my ex-wife. And the kids.”

“Sure,” you say, drawling sarcastically.

Roger laughs again, a little surprised, but amused. “I was!” he insists. “I was picking up women left and right.”

“I believe you,” you say lightly.

Roger grins, and you have to take a steadying breath. “You’ve got a tongue on you, haven’t you?” he says delightedly.

“So it’s been said.”

It comes out more suggestive than you’d intended. Roger takes a moment to drink you in, and then he bites his bottom lip, looking away, one hand sliding into the back pocket of his jeans, the other one slipping under his shirt, massaging his shoulder.

Your stomach flips and jumps. You take a sip of water.

“You sure you’ve never been with anyone before?” Roger says.

You snort. “That’s a pretty rude question, don’t you think?”

Roger smiles sheepishly. “You’re right. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

You take another sip of water, and then say, “I haven’t slept with anyone, no. I think I’d know if I had.”

“Right,” Roger says mildly, nodding.

You narrow your eyes at him. “What?”

“Nothing, I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re thinking very loudly. Is there something wrong with me not having slept with anyone?”

“No,” Roger says, his eyes widening. “No, shit, that’s not what I was trying to say. It– you just seem… I’m just surprised. That someone like you…”

You adjust your dress again. Roger’s eyes drop to your breasts again, and back up to your face. “What do you mean by that?” you ask, trying not to preen.

Roger ponders over his answer for a while. “You just seem to… know what you want.”

“Oh, you think so?”

“Yeah,” Roger says noncommittally.

His eyes find yours, and they stay there. Your heart is racing in your chest now, making your blood feel warm. You’ve been attracted to plenty of people before, but this is really something else.

Roger clears his throat, breaking away, and you surreptitiously squeeze your thighs together.

Your phone buzzes on your thigh. It’s Justine. so he’s hot?

“Is that your Uber?” Roger asks. If you aren’t mistaken, he sounds almost disappointed.

Your cheeks grow hot. “Oh, um, I haven’t actually… I forgot to call it.”

“Oh,” Roger says. A tinge of relief? “Well, no rush.”

“It’s just my friend checking up on me,” you add.

“That’s good of them.”

“Yeah. Well, actually, she was checking up on me before. Now she’s just–” You open and close your mouth a few times, but decide to be honest. “Uh, she’s just, um, asking about you.”

Roger quirks an eyebrow, and it’s so hot that you have to look away. “About me?”

Your phone buzzes again. are you on ur way home now?

“Uh,” you say, and quickly type out, not yet.

“What have you told her?” Roger asks, playfully curious.

You put your phone down, and take a breath, smoothing your hands down your legs, thinking carefully of how to answer. “Just that you seem nice.”

“Nice?” Roger says.

“And you’re… Well.” You smirk. “I’m sure you’ve seen yourself in the mirror. No point in boosting your ego too much.”

Roger steps forward, drawn to you by an invisible string. “I don’t think I understand,” he says faux-innocently.

“I’m sorry, weren’t you just saying a minute ago that you were pulling girls left and right?” you say, cocking your head.

“Oh, yeah, when I was twenty,” Roger says. “Not talking about now.”

“Have you tried?”

Roger pauses, slightly taken aback by this, and his eyes roll to the ceiling as he thinks, blowing hair out of his cheeks. “You may have a point there.”

“And I suppose that’s why these friends of yours contacted me?”

“You… may have a point there,” Roger says again.

You nod to yourself. “I don’t see why they couldn’t have just taken you to a pub and set you up with someone there. It’d have been a lot cheaper.”

“They’ve, um…” Roger cards his hand through his hair. “They’ve tried that, actually.” He hesitates, and then walks over to you, sitting down on the armchair near you. “They’ve taken me out a couple of times.”

“And you’ve struck out?” you ask.

Roger chuckles. “No. I – well, like you said, I suppose I haven’t really tried. I didn’t want to.”

“Too soon?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s…” Roger pulls a face. “I don’t know. Haven’t felt like it, really. Maybe it was too soon. Or maybe the thought of having to try to chat someone up just seemed like so much effort.”

“Surely it wouldn’t be much effort for you.”

Roger meets your eyes again, and he smiles slowly, running his tongue along his teeth. “Oh yeah?”

Your phone vibrates. The way Roger’s looking at you makes you wish it was something else vibrating that you could put to good use alone in your room.

Roger’s eyes flick down to the phone, and back up to your face. “That your friend again?”

You hesitate, and then flip the phone over. hellooooo????? wtf is going on????

“Yeah,” you say, and put the phone down beside you.

“You going to answer it?”

“In a minute.”

You smooth your hands down your thighs. Roger watches like a hawk.

Your hands slide back up your thighs.

He swallows.

You smile.

“You, um, you ever…” Roger tears his eyes away from your thighs to look at your face. “Have– have you ever had a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” you say casually. “Not for a long while, though. And nothing too serious. Nothing as full-on as marriage.”

Roger laughs, but it comes out sounding a bit strangled. “Yeah. That’s all right, though. That doesn’t matter.”

Your phone buzzes.

You ignore it.

“I never got around to… all of that,” you explain. “Y’know. Fucking.”

Roger’s face goes slack. “Uh–”

“I wasn’t waiting for anyone special,” you continue. Your blood feels electrified under his gaze. “Just never quite got there.”

“Never quite–?”

You hum. “That’s misleading. I’ve made out with plenty of people, but that’s all. Some over-the-clothes action. Basically nothing, really.”

Roger looks like he’s struggling to breathe. “Uh-huh.”

“You probably find that hard to imagine,” you say with a wry smile. “Having kids and all. How old were you your first time?”

Roger blinks, and takes a moment to reply. “Uh, I was sixteen.”

You laugh. “God, I can’t even picture…” You frown, and shake your head. “It’s hard to picture what it’d be like, you know? The reality of it? You can watch as much porn as you like – and I’ve watched plenty, mind you – but, like, I know that it’s not real. Not realistic, anyway. I’ve spent what feels like ages just trying to picture what is actually is like, but it’s impossible for me to know.”

“It’s good,” Roger says, and it comes out in a rush, and he looks surprised at himself.

You feel a thrill go through you. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Roger says. “Everyone says your first time isn’t good, but that’s only if your partner doesn’t know what they’re doing. And it’s nice when you have an idea of what you’re doing, too, but that comes with time. And if you have a good teacher.” He rakes his hand through his hair again. “But when the chemistry is right, and the mood is right, it’s… good.”

“That’s descriptive,” you murmur sarcastically.

Roger huffs a laugh. “What do you want, a detailed explanation? Graphs and illustrations?”

“A demonstration would be nice.”

Shit. Oh, shit. Shit shit shit. Why the fuck did you say that?

Your eyes are wide, and you open and close your mouth a few times. “Uh.” Roger looks as surprised as you feel. “Oh,” he says. “Um. Wow. Is– is this part of the…”

You blink. “Part of the…?”

“The whole…” He gestures vaguely. “…thing. You being paid to…”

“Did I just make a complete idiot of myself as part of my attempt to woo you as a kind-of sex worker?” you ask. You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Nope. No. That was all me. Just being a dumbass.” You groan, covering your face. “I’m sorry,” you say from behind your hands. “This is so embarrassing.” This whole night has been nothing but a huge embarrassment. You can’t wait to go home and forget about it, thanks to an unhealthy dose of alcohol.

“I’m sorry,” Roger says.

You lower your hands. “For what?”

“For – I don’t know. I just felt I needed to apologise.”

You snort. “You don’t have to apologise for me very clumsily and awkwardly and horribly trying to flirt with you, Roger.” You roll your eyes at yourself. “You’re probably used to seeing that all the time.”

“Again, not for a very long time,” Roger says. “But I know what horrible and awkward flirting looks like, and… that wasn’t it.”

“But clumsy, though, right?” you say, screwing up your nose.

Roger chuckles. “Maybe. But that’s all right.” He shifts in his seat. “I was just as clumsy.”

You wave a hand, and reach for your phone. It’s high time you called your Uber. And reply to Justine. “You weren’t flirting with me.”

You re-read the messages from Justine you’re yet to reply to.

so hes hot?

are you on ur way home now?

hellooooo????? wtf is going on????

Then the new one, from a few minutes ago: for the love of god can u please reply to me. something. anything. I’ll take a solid thumbs-up.

So you send a thumbs-up.

When you look up, Roger is staring at you, and you realise he hasn’t spoken since you did.

You’ve well and truly crossed a line somewhere. You can’t blame him for wanting you out. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m just – my friend. I’ll get the Uber now. Sorry it’s taken me so long.”

“Don’t,” Roger says.

You pause. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t order the Uber.”

Your stomach bubbles. “Wh– No?”

“Not yet, at least,” Roger says. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You think I wasn’t flirting with you?”

“Why would you be?” you respond automatically.

“Why would…” Roger shakes his head. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I’m a random twenty-year-old woman who’s just shown up at your door on a Tuesday night dressed like this talking about how you paid to take my virginity,” you say bluntly. “Which is more than a little off-putting.”

“Well, all right, I’ll give you that,” Roger says. “But here I am, still trying to clumsily flirt with you nonetheless.”

You break out into a smile, a bashful one, and duck your head. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Roger repeats, a touch playfully.

You glance up at him. He’s smiling at you, pleased with your reaction, and the thought of kissing him flashes through your mind, and you’ve suddenly never wanted anything more. You purse your lips, looking at your hands again, fiddling with your phone, flipping it around and around in your grip.

“Mandy,” he says gently, and you’re puzzled for a moment before you remember –

“That’s, um, not my real name,” you tell him with an awkward chuckle. But you really like how he said it all the same.

Roger looks so embarrassed that you can’t help but laugh. “Here I was, trying to be all suave, and now I look like an idiot,” he says.

You shake your head. “You don’t. You didn’t know.”

“I should’ve guessed you weren’t using your real name.”

“No, it’s fine,” you giggle.

“Well, am I allowed to know your real name? So I can try again?”

You hesitate.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Roger says quickly. “That’s fine. Security, and all. Stranger danger.”

You laugh again. “Stranger danger? I’m in your house.”

“I could be a stalker. You don’t know that.”

Fuck, you’re attracted to him. “Dork,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

Roger chuckles, his eyes sparkling.

“It’s [Y/N],” you add.

“[Y/N],” he repeats, and your breath catches ever so slightly. He pauses, and then comes to sit beside you on the couch, and holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you, [Y/N],” he says. “I’m Roger.”

You giggle, and take his hand, shaking it. “Nice to meet you, Roger.”

He’s so close now. He smells amazing, and his hand is warm, and his eyes are so blue, and his lips–

You realise you’ve been staring at his mouth, your hand still in his, and you glance back up at his eyes before quickly taking your hand back, looking away.

You tuck your hair behind your ear, clearing your throat. You’re barely aware of your own body – only his, and how close it is to yours. Like there’s a force between the two of you, connecting you. When he swallows and moves his hand back to his own lap, you can feel it as if it’s your own.

“Do you, um…” Roger takes a breath in, and you feel your chest, your lungs, buzz. “Tell me about yourself a bit.”

“Me?” you say, looking to him. Oh, wow, he really is close. Fucking hell, you want him.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “What do you do for fun? Stuff like that?”

You lick your lips, and his eyes dart to the movement. “Um, well, I…” You absentmindedly adjust your dress, and it catches his eye again. “I’m at uni, in my second year. It’s all right. Pretty stressful, obviously, but I like it well enough. I live with two of my friends. I, um… I like… dogs.”

Roger laughs.

This is so stupid, you realise. You both clearly want each other.

You shake your head. “Stupid,” you mutter.

Roger frowns. “What’s stupid?”

“This,” you say. You gesture between the two of you for emphasis. “This.”

“Oh,” Roger says. He shifts away from you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You huff. “You’re not.”

“Then what–”

“Kiss me,” you cut in.

Roger stops. “Kiss you?”

“Yes,” you say, keeping your gaze steady on his. “You’re too damn difficult to resist. So kiss me.”

Roger hesitates.

You raise your eyebrows. “Unless you don’t want to?”

“No, I – I do,” he says. “I just…”

“What?”

“I feel like the circumstances… I don’t want you to think I’m just doing this because I’ve paid you to…”

“I don’t think that,” you say. “And I don’t want your money; this is way beyond that now. I’m not trying to trick you into sleeping with me so I can force you to pay me. I just know chemistry when I see it.”

Roger chuckles. “I was right,” he says. “You know exactly what you want.”

You steel your nerves. “Yeah,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “And I want you.”

Roger swallows. “But you don’t even know me.”

“Nope.”

“And you’re in my house.”

“Yep.”

“And I’m so much older than you.”

“That’s right.”

“And you’re…”

“I’m a virgin,” you finish, nodding. “I know. But for the love of God, Roger, if you don’t kiss me right now, I’m going to scream.”

Roger exhales, shakes his head minutely, and then says, “God fucking damn it,” and leans in to kiss you.

You immediately shift to press closer towards him, one hand coming to rest against his chest. He kisses you earnestly, but gently, like he’s nervous. Nervous about making you feel pressured, you can safely assume.

But that’s not what you’re about. You pull back, and, before he can say anything, you climb on top of him, straddling his waist, and kiss him again, more deeply than before. He breaks away just far enough to whisper, “Holy shit,” and then ducks his head to kiss down your throat. You tilt your head to give him more room, one hand against his chest and the other raking through his hair. His hands, rough and warm, smooth up your thighs, and your breath catches. They stop just under the hem of the dress, and a soft whine slips from your throat.

Roger moans in response. “Jesus Christ.”

You reach down and grab at his wrists, urging his hands to go further up the dress. “Touch me,” you pant.

He draws back, and you look down at him, at his slightly flushed cheeks and his ruffled hair, and you want him naked, right now. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says. “We can just make out, that’s absolutely fine. Just because of… the whole… arrangement…”

“Roger,” you say slowly, “I’m only going to say this once, because I don’t want to have to repeat myself.”

He nods, swallowing.

You cup his face in your hands, boring your eyes into his. “I want you to fuck me. Tonight. Right now.”

Roger takes a shaky breath. “Are you–”

“What did I just say?” you cut in. “Not repeating it.”

Roger smiles, laughing breathlessly. “Bloody hell.”

You smirk. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, it most certainly is one, believe me.”

You lean in to kiss him, and his hands, thank the Lord, slide further up your thighs. You start unbuttoning his shirt, blindly, fumbling a little, and your kisses grow more eager.

You’ve kissed a number of people in your time. Not a whole lot, but a few. And Roger really takes the damn cake.

When his shirt is fully unbuttoned, untucked from his jeans, you move your lips down his neck, and he moans, letting his head roll back, his hands shifting to grab your ass, pulling you against him. You can feel the tent in his jeans, and, beyond thrilled, you grind against it, loving how a bolt of arousal shoots through you. Roger’s grip on you tightens, and when you nip at his skin, he spits out, “Fuck.”

You rock your hips against him again, and he laughs again. “God, it’s been too long.”

You hum, nipping his throat again and soothing it with your tongue. “How long is too long?”

“Months. Lost count. Ah, fuck.”

You pull back, giving him a look, and he lifts his head to meet your eyes. “Try twenty years,” you say dryly.

Roger shakes his head. “Can’t even imagine.” He kisses you, just once, and then murmurs against your lips, “I promise I’ll make this good for you.”

You shiver. “I’m sure you will.”

“I mean it.” He kisses you again, and then sits back, his hands sliding back to your thighs and squeezing them gently. “I want this to be good for you. If I’m going to be your first, I want you to enjoy it. So you have to tell me if I’m doing something you don’t like, yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“I don’t care what it is we’re doing – you can tell me to stop at literally any point, and I will, no questions asked.”

You nod. “I know, I know.”

Roger chuckles. “You just really want to get things going, don’t you?”

“Yes.” You press your lips to his, and, now that you both know where things lie between you, you’re both eager to get to the next step. The kisses quickly become more feverish, hotter, deeper. Roger’s hands go to the back of your dress, working the zipper down your spine, and you shudder at the feeling of it. When he’s done, you sit back to yank it over your head, dropping it the floor behind you.

Roger’s eyes drink you in, his mouth hanging open. “Whoa.”

You flush under his gaze. You know you look good – you’d worn your push-up bra and matching lace underwear for a reason – but it’s still a rush to get a reaction like that.

“Bedroom?” Roger says, his voice a touch weak, and you nod, leaning in to steal one last kiss before climbing off him, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet. He groans slightly as he does so, and you giggle.

“I know, I know, I’m old,” he says.

“No, I like it,” you say, tugging him closer to you and hooking a finger of your other hand through a belt loop on his jeans. “Dad noises.”

Roger shakes his head, his hands coming to rest on your waist, and you lean into the touch. “Don’t say that,” he grumbles. “Makes me feel even older.”

“You’re not old,” you say, rolling your eyes. “You’re not even forty.”

Roger laughs. “Ah, yes, a real spring chicken.”

“Can you stop whining and fuck me already? I’m gonna be forty by the time we get to it.”

Roger snorts. “Cheeky.” He leans in to kiss you, and you curl your arms around his neck, pressing into him.

When you break apart, you take Roger’s hand again, and he leads you to his bedroom, both of you stumbling slightly in the dark house. You’re only in your underwear, but you’re still wearing your heels, and you feel like you’re in some kind of Victoria Secret ad.

Roger keeps glancing back at you, his eyes sweeping your body, and he’s so distracted he almost runs into a wall at one point, and you have to tug on his arm to pull him out of the way, laughing as you do so. He retaliates by pushing you up against the wall and kissing you senseless, his thigh slotted between yours. You’re lightheaded and unbelievably turned on by the time he breaks away again, and it feels like a lifetime before you reach his bedroom.

Roger switches on the light.

The double bed is unmade, but the room itself is fairly tidy, just a pair of shoes and a shirt on the floor. The whole room screams tax-paying adult, and you’re reminded again that the man you’re about to sleep with is, in fact, a proper adult. Not like you, an adult by the loosest terms imaginable, but a fully-grown man with children and a mortgage and a career, probably. A completely different world to yours.

But none of that will matter when you’re both naked.

He closes the door behind him, and then you’re pouncing on him, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and all but tearing his belt off. His hands are tight on your hips, and when you undo his belt and the button and fly on his jeans, he pants, “Bed, bed, go sit on the bed.”

You do as you’re told, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing one knee over the other, taking the opportunity to quickly tie your hair back out of your face while and Roger fumbles with the rest of his clothes, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his socks and jeans. You can tell that he would’ve been thin as a twig back in the day, and you’d easily call him slender even now, but his body is soft, the sign of a father who’s spent more time taking care of the kids and having a beer in the evenings to wind down than going to the gym. It suits him, looks good on him. You’re certainly a big fan.

Soon, he’s down to nothing but his boxer-briefs. His boxer-briefs, which are neon green.

You break out into a grin, and Roger looks down at them, sighing. “Of all the fucking pairs I could’ve put on today,” he mutters.

“They’re pretty great,” you say, and you make sure you have Roger’s full attention before you uncross your legs, spreading your knees wide, leaning back on your hands, “but I’m more interested in what’s underneath them.”

From the look on Roger’s face, you’d guess his legs are about to give out from under him. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he huffs, and he hurries over.

Grinning, you scramble backwards on the bed, lying down, and he crawls after you, over you, and his kiss is bruising.

Your hands are shaking now – with excitement and with nerves, a lot of nerves – but you ignore that, and worm your fingers inside his underwear, wrapping your hand around him and giving him a tug.

He jerks, and you have a moment of panic where you think you’ve done the wrong thing, but then he kisses you with more fervour, so you do it again. This time, his hand finds yours, gently guiding you away.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask.

Roger looks confused for a moment, and then says, “God, no. I just don’t want to get too worked up before we get to, y’know, the main event.”

“Oh,” you say, smiling in relief.

“You really have no experience at all, do you?” Roger says, sounding almost disbelieving.

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” you say. “It hasn’t all been some elaborate ruse to get into your pants. Literally all I have is some vague, theoretical ideas on how this works. And I know the mechanics. But that’s it. So you’re gonna have to be patient with me.”

“That’s fine by me,” Roger says. He chuckles. “It’ll make everything I do seem much more magical than it really is.”

“Sure,” you say mock-condescendingly.

Roger laughs, and he looks so wonderful when he’s laughing that you can’t help but smile, your hand reaching up to comb through his hair.

He notices the look in your eye, your smile, and he smiles back in a way that makes your stomach squirm and your fingers and toes tingle.

He kisses you, and the squirming in your stomach grows into full-blown butterflies, big Amazonian ones, and you begin to have an inkling that, oh no, this could be bad. This could be very bad indeed.

It’s probably nothing. He’s just hot, and nice, and funny, so you’re excited to have sex with him. That’s it. You’re a duckling that’s imprinted on its mother. Except you’re a human, and Roger’s the first person you’re having sex with, not your mother.

Not the best analogy you’ve come up with. You can’t blame yourself, though – the way Roger’s kissing you is turning your brain into mush.

He presses a kiss to just under your ear, and then kisses all the way down your throat, and you tilt your head back. “Feels so good,” you murmur.

You can feel Roger smile against your skin.

He keeps going, kissing the hollow at the base of your throat, further down still, and you bite your bottom lip. He presses a kiss to the top of your right breast, and then looks up at you. “Can I take your bra off?”

You nod eagerly, and he moves back so you can sit up. “Oh, I’ve still got my shoes on,” you said.

“I’ve noticed,” Roger says, and you chuckle.

“As super sexy as they are, I do wanna take them off,” you say.

Roger ducks forward to drop a kiss to your neck, and the butterflies are back, and you can feel your cheeks going pink. You want to hide your face, but Roger’s right there, and you can’t look away from his eyes. “How about you take your bra off,” he says, “and I’ll get your shoes.”

“You don’t have to take my shoes off for me,” you say.

“Well, I want to,” he says simply, and shuffles down, climbing off the bed. He gestures for you to shift forward, and you do, until your feet are hanging off the bed, your knees hooked over the edge. Roger gets onto his knees – he makes a dad noise as he does so, and you giggle again – and fiddles with the buckle on one of your shoes.

You take a moment to watch him, biting your lip, smiling, and then reach behind you and unhook your bra, slipping it from your shoulders.

He doesn’t look up right away, and you’re thankful for a moment to get your head around the fact that you’ve never been completely topless in front of anyone before. You’re self-conscious about the grooves the bra has dug into your skin, about the way your breasts look without the aid of the push-up, and you almost go to cross your arms over yourself, but then Roger glances up, and his hands go still. “Bloody hell,” he breathes. “You’re gorgeous.”

You tuck your hair behind your ear. “Thanks,” you say in a small voice, unsure how else to respond.

Roger shakes his head, and focuses back on the shoe, making quick work of it and easing it off your foot, setting it down beside him. He moves onto the other shoe. “Talk about winning the fuckin’ lottery,” he says.

“I could say the same,” you say.

Roger stops again, looking to you, and then smiles, looking back to the shoe. His ears have gone red.

He takes the second shoe off and places it beside the first, then presses light kisses to the inside of your knee. He moves further up your leg, up your thigh, and you realise you’re holding your breath. His arms are curled around underneath your legs.

Roger looks up at you, his thick eyelashes making him look almost angelic. “Is this all right?” he says. “If I…?”

He’s asking if he can eat you out. Oh, God, he’s asking if he can eat you out. He wants to put his mouth and tongue there, and maybe his fingers, too, and no one’s ever done that before.

You nod eagerly. Maybe a little too eagerly, as Roger laughs.

You feel your stomach cave in on itself in embarrassment. “Actually, no thanks,” you say, trying to pull your legs back. “Changed my mind.”

“No, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh,” Roger says, still chuckling. He coaxes your legs back to where they were, and kisses your thigh. “It was just the look on your face.”

“You’re doing a terrible job of wooing me,” you say, aiming for resolute and chastising, but it comes out sounding more weedy and humiliated.

“I’m sorry,” Roger says again, and his hands stroke your legs soothingly. “I am. I didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed.” He smiles, a glint in his eye, and you’re momentarily left breathless. “Can I… make it up to you?”

You can’t help but smile back, rolling your eyes. “Wow. Cheesy.”

“Thank you,” Roger says. “I’m going to be honest, as fun as this banter is, my knees aren’t going to last forever.”

You splutter a laugh. “Yes, yes, okay, yes please.”

Roger surges up off the floor to press a firm kiss to your lips, and you take a moment to wonder just how dodgy his knees really are if he can do something like that, or whether he was just looking for a convenient segue into getting your underwear off. You’re not fussed either way.

Roger kisses your collarbone, and then pulls back, hooking his fingers into your underwear. “Lift your hips up for me, love?”

The pet name makes heat pool between your legs. Oh, Jesus.

“Mm-hm,” you say, hoping it sounds more nonchalant to him than it does to your own ears, and lie back to lift your hips, and he slides your underwear down your legs and drops them near your shoes.

You expect him to go back to his knees straight away, but he holds himself above you, kissing you, deep and slow, making you whimper into his mouth. One hand holds himself up, and the other one massages your hip, his thumb kneading your skin. Relaxing you, you realise. You let yourself get lost in the kiss, and you’re only partially aware when Roger’s hand moves from your hip to your thigh, brushing over your skin.

You’re extremely aware, however, when his fingers stroke through your folds for the first time.

Despite yourself, you jump, and Roger murmurs, “Sorry,” but you shake your head to dismiss his concerns, and pull him in again.

For a few moments it’s strange, feeling someone’s else hand there, and you’re very conscious of how wet you are, and you wonder if it’s something you should be embarrassed about, but then Roger circles your clit, and suddenly all your worries seem very far away.

It feels… good. Really fucking good. Roger’s fingers are rougher than yours, but they’re clearly experienced in how they move.

You push your hips up against Roger’s hand, wanting more, and Roger complies, his fingers moving just a touch more roughly, and he ducks his head to nuzzle at your throat, kissing it, nipping lightly.

“Oh, God,” you moan to the ceiling, overwhelmed already, and you almost laugh at how surprised you sound. Your hand grips Roger’s hair, and you hope it’s not too hard, but you couldn’t let go if you tried.

Then Roger’s hand is gone, and you let out a choked sound at the sudden stop. You try to gather your thoughts to ask why, but then Roger is kissing down your body. Oh, man, you think, unable to conjure up anything else, and Roger chuckles, and you realise you said it out loud, but you don’t have time to be embarrassed, as Roger takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it, his teeth tugging at it, and you gasp.

“I’ve never… That’s new,” you say weakly, hissing when Roger runs the flat of his tongue over your nipple.

Roger pulls off to ask, “Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, uh-huh.”

“Good.” He goes back to his task, and you arch off the bed slightly.

“So good,” you breathe. Roger switches to the other nipple, and you moan appreciatively.

Eventually, both to your dismay and your excitement, he draws away, and presses a single kiss to the space between your breasts. “You’re fucking stunning,” he says, and then he moves back to climb off the bed, setting himself between your thighs.

You struggle to wrap your head around it. How he could be making you feel this good, and then still compliment you, as if you’ve done anything to deserve it?

Roger doesn’t waste time talking now. He kisses the inside of your thigh, and then he dives straight in, his tongue nudging your clit as it pushes through your folds. You suck in a sharp gasp, your hand gripping his hair tightly. Your other hand flails, grappling at the sheets as he starts to find a rhythm. You wind up pressing the back of it to your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds you’re making, trying to gather some sort of control, because right now you feel like you’re falling head-first off a cliff, and Roger has complete power over how you land.

He does something with his mouth – you couldn’t tell for the life of you what it is – and your hips buck against your will. “Sorry,” you blurt out, and it comes out broken and breathless.

Roger just adjusts one of his arms, bracing it across your hips, holding you down, and you moan. His other hand joins his mouth, sliding a finger into you. “Oh, fuck,” you whisper, and then your hand returns to its position, keeping you somewhat quieter.

It doesn’t take long before Roger’s working in a second finger, pumping them in and out of you, and the sound of it is so obscene that it makes your face go bright red. You’re climbing towards an orgasm, frighteningly quickly, and when a third finger squeezes in beside the first two, you very nearly come, but the sting of the stretch is enough to keep it at bay.

But then your body relaxes around the three fingers, and Roger crooks them just so and sucks on your clit, and you move your hand away from your mouth to say in a rush, “I’m– I’m so close, I’m gonna come, fuck, ah, shit,” and then–

Then Roger is gone, his fingers and mouth are gone, and you’re left teetering on the brink of an orgasm, feeling like the air has been punched out of you.

“Wh– Roger?” you say, your head a mess. You prop yourself up on your elbows to see Roger still between your legs, but instead he’s massaging your thighs with his thumbs, dropping light kisses to your soft skin.

He smiles up at you, his nose and chin glistening. “Thought we could try something.”

You shake your head to try to clear it. “But I was just about to…”

You can still feel the urge. Another minute, and you’ll be there. But the longer you wait, the more the feeling fades. It makes you want to punch a wall.

Roger hums. “I know. That’s the point.”

You frown, trying to wrap your head around it. “You… don’t want me to?”

“Not yet.”

It finally clicks. “You’re gonna do that to me a couple more times before you make me come, aren’t you?”

Roger’s smile widens into a grin. “That’s the plan. If you’re on board.”

“I’m on board,” you say. “As long as when I do come, it blows my fucking mind.”

“That’s really the point of it, love.” Roger keeps eye contact with you as he leans forward to press a kiss to your core, and you shudder. “And move your hand away from your mouth. You don’t have to be quiet. The more sounds you make, the better.”

“When am I gonna get my hands on you?” you ask. “I’ve barely even touched your dick yet.”

Roger huffs a laugh, and you can feel his breath against you. “We’re getting there,” he says easily. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Ugh, that’s such a dad thing to say,” you bemoan, lying back down.

Roger laughs again, and then his mouth and hands return to where you so desperately need them. You suck in air through your teeth. “Fuck, Roger.”

Roger moans, and you jerk at the sensation.

He brings you to the edge once more, and, even though you don’t tell him when you’re about to come, he knows, and leaves you hanging once again. So close, so close, but not close enough.

You feel like crying. Or kicking him in the face.

You moan helplessly, slinging an arm over your eyes, your legs trembling as Roger smiles against your thigh – you can feel it. A smug smile that makes your blood boil and your core throb even more than it already is.

Then his fingers push into you for a third time, and his tongue licks through you, but this time it’s slow, painfully slow, not enough to make you come but enough to keep your head lost in the clouds, enough to make your stomach clench and twist, desperately searching for something. It’s enough to make you grind your teeth together. “God, fuck, I need to come,” you sob against the palm of your hand, your thighs trying to clench around Roger’s ears, but his arm is in the way, keeping your hips still.

His tongue drags against your clit, steady and unhurried, and the gasping whine that rips itself from your throat is piercing to your ears. Not even your hand could muffle it.

“There we go,” Roger says, and does it again.

You squirm. “Roger, fuck, please, I wanna come so bad.”

Roger’s fingers still move in and out of you at a leisurely pace, but he uses his mouth to say, “You wanna come?”

“Yes,” you say miserably. “Please, I need to.”

His thumb presses against your clit, and you bite your bottom lip, your body twisting.

“Christ,” Roger breathes. “That’s a fucking sight.”

“Fuck me,” you beg. “Anything, just please.”

Roger takes his hand away, standing and wiping his face on the back of his hand, and you swear. He kicks off his boxer-briefs. His cock is hard and red, swollen, leaking. You sit up and zero in on it like it’s a four-course meal and you haven’t eaten in days. You scramble off the bed, dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Fucking hell,” he says, clearly not expecting you to do that.

“Can I suck you off?” you ask desperately, resisting the urge to just shove your mouth around his dick without further preamble. “I’ll do a good job, I promise. Just tell me what to do. I’m a fast learner.” You curl your fist around him, sucking the head into your mouth.

Roger makes a strangled sound, his hips bucking slightly. “Wait, wait, wait,” he says quickly, guiding your head away with a hand on your head.

You pull back, but keep your hand where it is. “Just fuck my mouth,” you say, gazing up at him. “I dunno how that works, but I can keep it open.” You do so, sticking your tongue out, silently begging with your eyes.

Roger chuckles softly to himself, running a hand through his hair. “You’re gonna make me come just from running your mouth like that.”

You open your mouth wider.

“Or from just doing that,” Roger says. He pries your hand away from his dick, using it to pull you to your feet.

He kisses you, a hungry kiss, a you’re doing so well kiss, and it makes you preen. “But I want to fuck you,” he says. “I’ve had my dick sucked before; you’ve never been fucked.”

“I’ve never sucked a dick before, either, though,” you reason.

“Well, hit me up next time you’re in the neighbourhood,” Roger jokes. Before you can reply, he kisses you again, and you drink him in greedily, palming at his cock until his kisses grow sloppy, messy, more teeth and tongue, and he has to snatch your wrist. “Let me get inside you first,” he growls. “Good God.”

“I like it when you’re bossy,” you say, teasingly.

Roger hums, his eyes dark. “You need that attitude fucked right out of you.”

“Do it,” you say fervently, grinning in delight when he grabs your other wrist as well to stop you from touching him. “Do it, do it, do it. Fuck it right out me. I need it. Never had anyone try to fuck anything out of me before.”

Roger shudders. “Jesus.”

You half-heartedly try to tug your wrists back, but he holds them tightly. “Fuck me till I can’t walk,” you say. “Come on.”

Roger takes a breath, and then lets your wrists go. “Bed. Now.”

You scramble to obey, clenching your thighs together at the sight of Roger. He looks wrecked already, his hair a mess, his skin flushed, his eyes glassy, his lips red. He goes to his bedside table and digs out a bottle of lube and some condoms. “Maybe should check the date on these,” he mutters to himself, and squints at the packets in his hands. After a few moments of peering at them, he sighs in frustration, and reaches for the pair of glasses on the table that you hadn’t noticed before. He slips them on, and then nods at the packets. “They’re fine.”

He goes to take the glasses off, but you say, “Wait, show me.”

He turns to you. “Show you what?”

Fuck, he looks gorgeous in those glasses. They’re large, round ones, with delicate silver frames, and you make a soft sound. “Oh, wow.”

“I know, they’re horrendous,” Roger says, taking off the glasses and setting them down. “My eyesight’s always been shite, but I can’t stand wearing the bloody things.”

“No, you look great,” you say. “So great, in fact, that I need you to get the condom on so you can fuck me literally right now.”

Roger raises his eyebrows. “You what?”

“I’m dying here, Roger,” you say loudly, smacking the bed beside you. “You look hot as fuck in those glasses, and I’m so insanely horny that I’m about to explode. I need your dick in me right now.”

Roger grins, and rips open the condom packet. “All right. Jeez.”

“Let me do it,” you say, crawling over to him and taking the condom from him.

“You’ve ever done it before?” he asks.

“Not since we had to at school when I was, like, fifteen.” You do it carefully, to the best of your memory. Your mouth waters being so close to his cock. “Is this right?”

“Yeah, perfect,” Roger says. “You look incredible, by the way.”

You look up at Roger, and the butterflies return. You’re left momentarily speechless, but it doesn’t matter, because Roger leans down and kisses you. His hand rests against your collarbones, and you get another idea in your head. You rise up into a kneel, keeping his lips on yours, and then you take his hand, pressing it against your throat: a silent invitation.

Roger moans into your mouth, and applies some pressure, just a bit, testing the waters.

It makes your core ache, and you kiss him harder, so he presses harder in return. His palm is warm against your throat, and you keep one hand loosely around his wrist, the other hand in his hair, as it is wont to do.

You end up lying back on the bed, Roger pressing his hand against your throat as you gasp and squirm.

“You like this, don’t you?” Roger says, fingers on his other hand dipping into your folds. “Fuck, feel how wet you are.”

You nod desperately. Your mouth is hanging open, and your head is starting to swim.

“Is that all for me, love?”

You whimper, nodding again. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

Roger lets go of your throat, and you gasp, your eyes wide. “More,” you say immediately. “More. Fuck me like that.”

Roger smiles, keeping his palm against your throat, but brushes his thumb across your skin. His other hand curls around your knee. “Your enthusiasm is… mind-blowing,” he says with a chuckle, “but just take a moment, yeah? You’re all over the shop. Slow down a bit.”

“I don’t wanna slow down,” you protest, grabbing onto his forearm.

“We’ve got time, love. It doesn’t have to be over so quickly.”

“You can’t tease me like that, almost make me come, like, three times, and then tell me to slow down,” you say. “I need you, Roger. Christ, I need you. Show me what it’s like, show me how good my first time can be.”

Roger’s pupils are blown wide, and he lets out a shaky breath. He swallows. “Spread your legs.”

You grin, and do so. Roger lets go of your throat and leans over you on all fours to kiss you briefly. “I’m not choking you while I fuck you,” he says. “I want you to feel all of it, not have your head somewhere else.”

You nod vigorously.

Roger reaches for the lube. You hold out your hand, and he raises an eyebrow at you, but pours some into your hand. You reach forward and slide your fist up and down his cock, spreading the lube. He groans and shudders, and then he says, “That’s enough, that’s enough, I want to fuck you.”

You take your hand away, wiping the lube on the sheets, Roger surges forward to capture your lips with his, and you feel the head of his cock nudging at your entrance. A shot of adrenaline explodes within you.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” Roger says, and you nod.

Then, slowly, he pushes into you, just an inch or two. You gasp at the stretch, gripping onto his arms, your mouth wide.

Roger stills, and nuzzles at your throat. “You okay?”

“Mm-hm,” you say, biting your lip. “Keep… Keep going.”

He does, rocking in shallowly, just going a little further each time. He’s panting against your neck, and you can feel your sweat pricking your skin. You can’t help but admire Roger’s back, the way the muscles move.

It feels good. Once you get over the initial shock to the system of having something that size inside you, you realise why you were so excited to get to this in the first place.

“I’m good,” you say, nails absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck. “It– It doesn’t hurt or anything.”

“You sure?” Roger asks, kissing your neck softly.

You can’t help but laugh. “Roger, for the love of all things holy, fuck me.”

He doesn’t need another invitation. He slams into you, and your eyes go wide, a tiny sound of surprise leaping out of you.

“Sorry,” Roger says, raising his head to kiss you in apology.

“Don’t fucking apologise, it feels good,” you say back. “Come on, come on.”

Roger laughs, and kisses you. You can feel his laughter against your lips, feel the way his smile changes the shape of his mouth, and that dangerously warm feeling in the pit of your stomach returns.

You could get used to this. Get used to Roger laughing against your lips as he’s buried inside you. Get used to teasing him, to turning him on, to rolling around in his bed.

As soon as the thoughts creep into your mind, you banish them. That’s not happening, you tell yourself harshly. This is a one-and-done deal. You can’t develop feelings for a man you’ve only met once. A man who is, by the way, in case you’ve forgotten, sixteen years older than you.

Then Roger pulls out halfway and drives back into you, and all you can think about is his dick.

Your hand goes back to your mouth, just like before, keeping yourself quiet as you moan and whimper. Your ankles hook over the small of Roger’s back.

But then Roger pauses, sitting up, and he unwraps your legs from around him and pushes one of your knees flat on the bed, keeping you spread out wide. “Hands away from your mouth, love,” he says. “Let me hear you. It’s okay, you can let go.”

Your face burns, and you cover it with both of your hands. It’s too big of an ask. You’ve never felt more vulnerable. “Roger…”

“[Y/N].”

You lower your hands. He’s watching you, his blue eyes burning with desire, but they’re soft, too. Understanding.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he says. “Hold onto the sheets, yeah? Can you do that for me?”

You nod, and, with no small amount of effort, let your arms go by your sides, your fists wrapping in the sheets.

Roger smiles. “You’re amazing.”

You turn your head away, overwhelmed.

“Eyes on me. Hey.”

You look back at him. Exposed. You’re exposed, in every sense of the word.

Roger braces himself on the bed beside your ribs, and, keeping one hand on your knee, holding it down, he starts fucking into you again, hard and deep.

The sound you make could best be described as a mewl, and it’s a sound you’ve never heard yourself make before. Your hands tighten in the sheets, fighting the urge to cover your face again. Roger’s eyes are still on yours, and it’s too much, you want to look away, but you can’t.

“So good for me,” Roger pants. “Fuck. God, you’re incredible.”

You whine. “Roger.”

“That’s it, love. Say my name.”

He thrusts into you at just the right angle, making your back arch. “Roger.”

Roger groans, and he lets go of your knee to circle his fingers around your clit. You gasp, your eyes finally breaking away from his to look to the ceiling, feeling yourself climbing rapidly for the fourth time that night.

“Let me come, let me come, please,” you beg, your arms straining as your fists pull on the sheets.

Roger leans forward again to kiss you, a mess of heavy breathing and tongues and lips brushing. You let go of the sheets to clutch onto him, pawing at his shoulders and back and hips, unable to settle on where you want to hold him.

One hand inevitably slides into his hair, and you grip onto it, tugging it hard. Roger’s rhythm stutters, and he groans out your name.

His fingers feel so fucking good, and, doubled with the way he’s stretched you out, tripled with how he edged you before, you just know how hard you’re going to come. You can feel it building deeper within you than you’ve ever felt before, like an impending tsunami.

Roger readjusts, sitting back again, his brow furrowed as he searches for just the right spot to hit you.

When he does, you cry out. “Right there, right there, fuck.”

Your hands scrabble for purchase, and one finds your own hair, burying itself, and you don’t pull, but you keep a firm grip on it, the slight pain being the only thing keeping you from losing yourself entirely. Your other hand finds the same spot as before in the sheets, and you sob, screwing your eyes shut.

“You close?” Roger asks, and you nod.

“Say it out loud, love.”

“Yes, I’m so close, I’m so close,” you gasp. You’re almost there, you can feel it, only inches away, moments away.

“Open your eyes, come on.”

You do, and meet his gaze. “Roger,” you whimper.

“You gonna come for me?”

“Y-yeah.”

“I wanna hear it, yeah? Wanna see you. See you come undone on my cock.”

And that’s the final nail in the coffin. You orgasm pulses through you, so hard that you convulse, and you wail, blurting out Roger’s name, clenching down on him. Your blood roars in your ears, and you’ve never come so hard in your life.

Roger moans out, “Fuck,” and then pumps once, twice more, and then comes, groaning your name, a shudder ripping through him.

When he comes back to himself, blinking his big blue eyes at you, you can’t help but think he looks otherworldly. His face, pink, shines with sweat, as does his whole body. Locks of hair stick to his forehead, his temples. His mouth hangs open, and his chest heaves, and maybe it’s the ten-out-of-ten orgasm you just had, but in that moment, you kinda want to marry him.

He takes the hand you’ve tangled in the sheets, and presses a kiss to your wrist. Your heart just about explodes. “You all right?”

You splutter. “All right? The fuck’s that meant to mean?”

Roger smiles, massaging the palm of your hand with his thumb. “I mean, are you hurting anywhere?”

My heart hurts from you being all hot and perfect and stupidly romantic, you think. “No,” you say. “I’m just fine.”

He pulls out of you, carefully, and it does nothing but reignite a spark of arousal within you. Then he collapses onto the bed beside you with an unmistakable dad noise, and takes off the spent condom, tying it off and tossing it into the rubbish bin beside his bed. When that’s done, he wastes no time in rolling onto his side and pulling you in for a kiss. You hum happily, shifting closer to him, not even caring about the sweat and how wet you are all over your inner thighs.

When he breaks away, he says, “So. How do you feel?”

“Like I just had the biggest orgasm of my life,” you say.

Roger chuckles. “I meant now that you’re, y’know…”

It clicks. “Now I’ve lost my virginity?” you say playfully. “Had my sexual debut? I’ve become a woman?”

“Not that any of it matters, of course,” Roger adds. “But it’s still… It can be a big thing.”

You give him a soft kiss. “Yeah, it doesn’t matter,” you say. “Virginity is nothing but a social construct and all of that.”

“Of course,” Roger reiterates.

“But I feel… happy.” You hope your grin isn’t as cheesy as it feels. “It’s nice to not have to… worry about it anymore, I suppose? I don’t know if I was really worrying about it before, but it… I don’t know.” You shrug. “I just had a really good time. That’s all that matters.”

“Good.” Roger’s hand goes to your hip, squeezing it. “I’m glad.”

“Did…” You lick your lips. “Did you have a good time?”

“Did I have a good time?” Roger repeats, almost aghast. “Are you joking?”

“Even though I had no idea what I was doing?”

“You’re a natural.”

You laugh. Your stomach squirms – both because of those ridiculous maybe-almost-could-be feelings, and because, even though you know in your mind that the whole sex part of the evening is over, your body certainly isn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet.

Your thighs clench together, but you do your best to hide how it feels. You don’t want to be greedy.

Roger feels your thighs move under his hand, though, and he looks to you questioningly. “Are you still–”

“No, no, I’m fine,” you say lightly, shaking your head. “I was just moving around.”

Roger pauses, and then says, “All right.” He kisses you, and then takes a moment to gather his energy before he sits up. “I’ll get us some water.” He turns to you, pointing a finger at you, as if something just occurred to him. “You should go pee.”

Your eyes widen, and you nod. “Oh, yes, good thinking.”

“Bathroom’s just there,” he says, gesturing across the room at the closed door.

“You have an en suite?”

“Well, yeah. Much easier when there’s kids around.” His face falls a little. “Not that I’ve had the kids here very often recently, but uh…”

“I’m sorry,” you say.

He shakes his head. “Sorry. It’s fine. Great way to bring down the mood, eh?” He leans down again to kiss you, and then stands up, stretching. “Be back in a mo’.”

You watch him, your gaze hawk-like, as he pulls on his neon-green underwear and disappears out the door, raking his hand through his hair as he goes.

Your thighs clench together again, and you whimper.

You try to push it aside, and slide off the bed to go the bathroom, pulling on your underwear as you go. You don’t exactly feel like putting your push-up bra back on, but you don’t want to just lounge around completely naked. Would it be too presumptuous to put on Roger’s shirt?

You bite your lip, considering, and then decide to just bite the bullet, slipping it on and buttoning it up. It’s comfy, and smells like him; you understand why women in movies do it now. You do have to call bullshit on wearing a man’s shirt like a short, cute dress though – it’s more just like a long shirt, and you’re glad you’ve chosen to put on underwear.

It feels odd to pee in a stranger’s house – even odder that it’s an en suite – but you’re thankful that you get a moment to properly gather yourself in private, instead of while being surrounded by the smell of sex.

It’s when you’re washing your hands that you finally get a look at yourself in the mirror. Your mouth drops open in horror.

You look like a fucking mess. Your foundation is patchy where you get oily and where you’ve sweated it off, and there’s a slight ring of smudged mascara under your eyes – honestly, you’re thankful that it’s not worse, and that your setting spray did at least something. Your hair, though, is the worst of it all. You look like you’ve been dragged through a bush backwards.

“Oh, shit,” you whisper to yourself. What can you do? You don’t have any make-up with you to try to fix the problems, but you can’t exactly take it off, either. You have no way to fix your hair. You untie it from the ponytail it was in and try to smooth it out, but it doesn’t really do much, so you tie it back up again, but it’s a shitty ponytail, so you untie it and try again. Then you try a third time, and give up, settling on the disaster that it is, and grab a tissue, blotting at your make-up.

You sigh, staring at your reflection. Well, fuck. What the fuck are you meant to do? How the hell can you go back into the bedroom, knowing you look like this?

“[Y/N]?” Roger calls. “You all right in there, love?”

You shiver. God, the way he says the word ‘love’. The way he says your name.

You clear your throat. “Um, yeah, I’m– I’m fine. Just…” You can’t say you’re still peeing. Oh, fuck, what if he thinks you’re taking a shit or something? “I’m just fixing up my make-up.”

“I think there might still be some make-up wipes in a drawer somewhere, if you want to have a look,” Roger says. “Maybe they’re no good anymore, I’m not sure.”

You have a dig around, and find a packet. It’s already been opened, quite a while ago by the looks of it. Must be Roger’s ex-wife’s.

The thought of that sits weirdly with you, but you’re not quite sure why. Almost like you feel like you’re intruding, maybe. You certainly don’t feel like you belong here, in this bougie, nice house.

You sigh again, and pull out a handful of make-up wipes, seeing if there’s any that still hold any moisture. One in the middle has a little bit, so you carefully run it under your eyes, and lightly tap it over your forehead and down your neck to soothe your skin, fixing up any problem areas as best you can without it being too obvious that you’ve just wiped off the make-up.

The end result is fine. Not good, and certainly not great, but… yeah. Fine.

You throw the make-up wipes into the bin, take a deep breath, and exit the bathroom.

Roger’s on his phone, and he looks up when he hears the door open. His face goes slack when he sees you. “You’re wearing my shirt?”

“Isn’t that what girls are meant to do after sex?” you joke.

“I just haven’t seen, um, anyone do that in… in a long time,” he says, somewhat stilted, and he glances down at his hands. He quickly turns his eyes back to you. “It looks good. Really good.”

“Thank you,” you say, and pad over to the bedside table near him, where he has two glasses of water waiting. “Which one’s mine?”

“On the left.” Roger sets his phone down and watches you as you take a sip of water.

He’s close to you, and, like before you kissed for the first time, you’re hyperaware of every movement. But he barely moves, just waits for you.

When you put the water down, you hesitate. You want to climb on top of him, kiss him, feeling his arms around you again, but is that too much? Does he want you to go? Are you overstaying your welcome?

“You all right?” he asks gently.

You nod. “Um, yeah,” you say, and take a step back. “You probably, um, have work or something tomorrow, so I should go.”

You don’t miss the way Roger’s face falls a bit. “Oh, you want to go?”

No. “Well, it– I don’t want to impose…”

“If you want to go, then I’ll order an Uber for you,” Roger says. “But don’t feel like you have to go if you don’t want to.”

The Amazonian butterflies are back yet again. “I…”

“Because – and correct me if I’m wrong,” Roger says, reaching out and tugging on his shirt, pulling you closer, and you go without any resistance, “but I think you were telling a bit of a fib before, when you said you were… what did you say? Just moving around?”

You press your lips together as Roger guides you between his legs, and he tilts his head back to gaze up at you. He smiles at the look on your face. “Am I right?”

You can feel your face heating up again. “No,” you mumble unconvincingly, hiding your smile behind your hand.

“No hands over mouths,” Roger murmurs, reaching up and taking yours. “You don’t have to hide.”

Fuck. Oh, fuck. His voice sounds like a warm fireplace feels, and you barely even know him, but you’ve never felt safer, more comfortable, around a man. You can’t pretend now – you’re really starting to like him.

Roger raises his eyebrows at you, just a touch, searching your face. “So? Am I right?”

“It’s fine,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m fine, really. You’ve done plenty, I… I can’t ask for more.”

Roger hums, and presses a kiss to your palm before letting your hand go. “All right, okay,” he says. “I was wrong, I see. Can I at least tell you what I’d do to you if I had been right?”

You breathe in shakily, and nod once.

The corner of Roger’s mouth quirks up. “Well,” he says slowly, “first I’d kiss you, of course. And, as hot as you look wearing nothing but my shirt and your knickers, I’d undress you again. Get you lying down on your back, all spread out for me. I’d kiss you some more. Then I think I’d choke you, because you seem to like that a lot, yeah?”

You nod, hypnotised.

Roger nods as well. “Right. And then, while I was holding you down by your throat–”

You gulp.

“–I’d get my other hand, and I’d–”

“Okay, yes, you were right,” you blurt out, and grab his face, ducking down to kiss him desperately. He kisses you with just as much hunger, and nudges you a few steps back, giving him enough room so he can stand up and start unbuttoning the shirt. As soon as he’s done, your shrug it from your shoulders, and Roger pulls you closer by your ass. One hand moves to cup your jaw, his tongue pressing against yours. It doesn’t take long before the hand shifts to your throat, and you whimper softly, urging him to tighten his grip.

He does, and the feeling of it goes straight to your core. Your hands clutch at him frantically.

He lets go of your throat, and you suck in a gasp, then latch onto his neck, kissing and nipping and sucking at his skin, licking off the salty traces of sweat.

“Careful, love, careful,” he says shakily. “I can’t turn up to work looking like I’ve been attacked by a vacuum.”

You huff, but soften your kisses. He moans under his breath, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything hotter.

Soon, you break away, and crawl back onto the bed, and he follows you, positioning himself on all fours above you to kiss you deeply, his knee slotting into between your thighs. He presses it against your core, and you instinctively grind against it, shuddering when it fires an electric shock of arousal through your system. Roger shifts, readjusting his balance so he can bring his hand back to your throat, and you welcome it. You grind against his leg again.

It’s when you have to stop kissing him, your brain going into overdrive trying to force you to focus on breathing, you have to breathe, that Roger sits back, moving his leg out of the way and replacing it with his other hand.

“Fuck, Roger,” you gasp, twitching under his grip, your hands vice-like on his forearm. Your eyes slide closed, revelling in the way your head swims, the way your body fights to suck as much oxygen as it can into your lungs. You’re still so wet from before, still so stretched out, that Roger slides two fingers into you at the same time with ease, and you let out a stuttering moan, bucking your hips into his hand. His fingers swirl around your clit, hitting it in just the right way, and within minutes you’re almost there.

“Most people think the best part about getting choked is the actual ‘getting choked’ part,” Roger says out of the blue, and you frown, trying to follow, opening your eyes.

“Hear me out,” Roger says casually, pushing his fingers back into you and flicking your clit with his thumb, and you whine. “Are you close, love?”

You nod.

Roger hums. “You look so good like this. Does it feel good?”

You nod again. “Mm-hm.”

“Yeah, looks like it does. Looks like you enjoy it.”

“Ah, Roger, please.”

“It’s all right, love, I’ve got you.” Roger’s fingers quicken their pace, and you make a sound, squirming.

“As I was saying,” Roger continues, “people think the best part of getting choked is actually getting choked. But it’s not. The best part of it is actually being let go. Do you want to see?”

You nod, barely even listening to what he’s saying. You’re too close to coming to pay attention.

And then Roger lets go of your throat at the same time he brushes your clit, and a rush of oxygen flows into your lungs, a rush of blood flows back to your head, and your orgasm slams into you, and the world seems so much brighter in that moment. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” you gasp, your back arching, your eyes wide.

It feels like it goes on for a lifetime, although perhaps that’s just your mind trying to sort itself out. When you do finally start to come down from your high, you realise you’re shaking, and Roger is grinning at you. You blink at him owlishly.

“Wh– Huh?” you breathe, your heart racing, and Roger laughs.

“So you’re alive, then,” he teases, and leans down to kiss you.

You grab onto him, kissing him soundly, and roll the both of you over, so you’re straddling him. You just stay like that, just making out, letting the frenzied kisses lull themselves into something slower, something calmer. Just kissing for the sake of it. Roger’s hands stroke up and down your back, and you could almost fall asleep like this.

Speaking of falling asleep – you have to break away, hiding your yawn by tucking your face into his chest. Roger hums, and you can feel it vibrating against your body. You smile. “Sorry,” you mumble.

“Can hardly blame you,” Roger says, his voice low. “It’s late.”

You let yourself slump against him, a moment of pure self-indulgence, and then roll to the side, dumping yourself onto the bed. You groan, unable to stop yourself from instinctively shifting into a more comfortable position for sleeping, your arm beneath your head like a pillow, your eyes closing.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, muffled by your arm. “I’ll leave in a minute.”

Roger says nothing, and you feel your stomach coil in guilt. God, he wanted you to leave fifteen minutes ago, didn’t he? He was just too polite to say anything. And then you pressured him into making you come again, because you were too selfish to know when enough was enough. Great, fucking great, you’ve fucked it all up, and you’re a huge piece of shit, and you–

“Did you want to stay the night?” Roger asks tentatively.

Your eyes fly open, and you shift up onto your elbow. “What?” you say. “Stay?”

Roger glances away from you. “It– It was just a suggestion,” he says. “Just an idea, I don’t know. I, um – it’s just late, and I don’t want you travelling all that way on your own. You can, obviously, if you want to, that’s up to you, I just…”

You’re hardly even listening. You’re still struggling to drink in the first thing he said. “You want me to stay?” you ask.

Roger looks to you, and bites his bottom lip. “If– Well, if you want to, then, um, yes, I’d like you to. But only if you want to.”

You beam, and your heart triples in size. “Um, yes. I’d like to.”

Roger smiles back. “Good. Great. That’s–” He clears his throat. “Did you want to have a shower?”

“I think so,” you say with a laugh. “I’m…” You went to say I’m so disgusting right now, but you don’t want to fuck up your now-sleepover before it’s even properly begun. “Yes please.”

“Well, you know where the bathroom is,” Roger says, nodding towards the en suite. “There’s a spare toothbrush in the drawer, if I remember correctly. I’ll get you a towel.”

“You’re not coming into the shower with me?” you ask coyly.

Roger blinks, and you laugh.

“Oh,” he says. “You were joking.”

“I wasn’t,” you say. “You just made me laugh.”

Roger swoops down to steal a kiss, and you don’t let him leave, pushing up into him, stealing a few kisses back.

“Let me get you a towel,” he says, and then climbs off the bed and pads out of the room.

You bite on your finger to stop yourself from making some stupid giggle, or maybe a dumb squealing sound like a little girl. He asked you to stay the night. He wants you to stay the night.

Oh, shit, you realise, your finger dropping from your mouth. Justine. You never told her what was happening.

Where’s your phone? In the living room. Spitting out a curse, you pull on your underwear and Roger’s shirt again, and hurry out. You run into Roger, arms full of sheets, in the hallway. “Hey, is everything all right?” he says. “What did you forget?”

“I never told my roommate I wasn’t coming home,” you say. “Last she heard, I was about to book an Uber.”

Roger’s eyes go a little wider. “Shit, whoops. Yeah, go tell her.”

You shoot him a smile, and scurry off to the living room. Your phone is on the couch, and you snatch it up. Wow, shit, it is late. You’re glad you only have an afternoon lecture tomorrow.

Thankfully, just one message from Justine, from about half an hour ago. hey, haven’t heard from u in a while. just send me a message when u get this ok? xx

You respond. fuck sorry, left my phone in the other room. I have SO MUCH to tell u omg, but in a nutshell uhh we ended up sleeping together, it was fucking amazing, and now he’s asked me to stay over, so ill see u at uni tomorrow maybe? if not then at home xx

You keep your phone in hand, and head back to Roger’s room. He’s started cleaning up in the minute you were gone, stripping the bed. Fresh sheets sit on the floor. “What’s this?” you ask.

��I’m making the bed,” Roger says simply, tugging a pillow from its case. “I’m too old to be sleeping on sheets I’ve just had sex on. Let me tell you, it makes a difference. And the sheets were due for a change, anyway.”

You step forward. “Well, let me help.”

“Don’t be silly, jump in the shower.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You set your phone down beside his on the bedside table, and together the two of you help remake his bed.

Roger chases you into the shower then, and says he’s going to tidy up the room a little more before he joins you. “I’m on a roll now,” he says, picking up your shoes from where you kicked them aside during the bed-making. “Can’t stop, won’t stop.”

You take the make-up wipes. The door is about halfway open, and you can hear Roger moving around, hear when he trips over something and hisses out a curse, making you smile.

The make-up wipe freezes in the air near your eye. You can’t very well have a shower and go to bed without taking your make-up off – it does not make even a vague semblance of a pretty picture – but this is… way more intimate than you were expecting. Why didn’t you think of this when you agreed to stay over? Roger’s going to see you without your make-up on, with your hair tied up in a bun. He’s going to see you in the morning, all bleary-eyed and disgusting. Fuck, morning breath. You have the spare clothes you brought that you can change into tomorrow, but no extra underwear. Nothing to wear tonight. It’s a miracle that Roger even has a spare toothbrush. What time does he get up for work? Will he expect you to leave before he wakes up?

Are you a one-night-stand? Is that what this is? Are you asked to stay the night if you’re nothing but a one-night-stand, or does the fact that he asked you mean something else?

“Is your roommate all right?” Roger asks, coming to the door, leaning against the doorjamb. “No freak-outs?”

You lower the make-up wipe. “Um, no. It’s all fine, I think.”

“Have you found the toothbrush?”

“No, I haven’t checked yet.”

Roger moves around you, pulling open the drawer and rummaging through. “Ah, here it is. Still in the packet! How good am I?”

You smile as he presents it to you like it’s a medal of honour. “Thanks.”

“Sorry about the make-up wipes,” Roger says. “They’re not great.” He huffs, and then leans against the edge of the sink, rubbing his hands down his face. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m… I’m actually really nervous.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Nervous?” you repeat. “About what?”

“About… you staying over,” he confesses. “It’s been, I don’t know, ten years since I’ve had anyone new sleep over. My brain is suddenly filled with every annoying thing I do when I sleep. And I look awful in the mornings, let me tell you. If you think I look bad now, just you wait.”

“Who says I think you look bad now?” you say. “I thought I made it perfectly clear that I think you’re a hot piece of ass, Roger.”

Roger splutters, flustered, and you grin.

“I move around a lot,” he says. “When I sleep. So be prepared to cop an elbow to the face.”

“Don’t you worry, I’m a heavy sleeper,” you say. “And I move around, too.”

“I run hot,” Roger adds. “I’m like a space heater. And sometimes I talk in my sleep, but only when I’m really stressed about something, like work. I can be really very clingy.”

“I run cold,” you say with a shrug. “So clingy suits me fine.”

Roger pauses, staring at you, like he wasn’t expecting an answer like that. Then he snaps out of it, glancing away. “Sorry,” he says for a third time.

“Don’t apologise,” you say, shaking your head. “You don’t have to. I’m nervous, too. Like, really fucking nervous. I’m– I’m too nervous to even take my make-up off.”

Roger’s eyes search your face. “I won’t care what you look like,” he says gently. “I’m sorry that you feel nervous about taking it off. But it won’t matter, I promise.”

“Just wait and see,” you joke in a sing-song voice.

Roger is silent for a few moments, and then he says, “Well, I hope you’re ready. I’m going to kiss the bloody daylight out of you when you take it off.”

You don’t know how to respond. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m going to. I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure you don’t feel uncomfortable without make-up on. And if that means I have to keep kissing you all night as a reminder that it doesn’t matter what you look like without make-up, then that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

You duck your head, making a disgruntled sound. Why does he have to say cute shit like that? Why must he make you suffer?

Roger pushes the packet of make-up wipes a little closer to you, waggles his eyebrows at you, making you giggle, and then reaches across you for his toothbrush.

You start wiping off your make-up.

Roger waits until you’ve finished taking it off, until you’ve brushed your teeth, until you’re well and truly left without anything to do, and then he cups your face in his hands and does exactly what he promised he’d do.

One steamy make-out session and one far-too-long shower later, you’re sitting on the newly-made bed, wrapping in a towel, the strands of hair that slipped loose from your bun sticking to your neck and temples. You’re watching Roger pull on a pair of underwear and rifle through his chest of drawers. He pulls out a huge shirt, clearly worn and well-loved, and turns to you, holding it out. “I went on a day trip once to Brighton,” he says. “We were out to a pub and I spilled red wine all over my shirt. Had to buy a new one. Sent one of my mates to get it for me and he came back with this. Hence why I have a shirt about five sizes too big for me.”

“You didn’t have to explain,” you say with a chuckle, taking it from him.

“I feel like I did,” Roger says. “I, um, usually use it as a sleep shirt when I travel.”

You slip it on, and then stand up, letting your towel drop to the floor. The shirt is long enough to cover everything, but you’re not about to bend down any time soon.

You glance over at your underwear, where they’re in a pile near the door. Should you put them back on?

“Please don’t,” Roger blurts.

You look to him. “Huh?”

His face goes red. “Um. I just– I– You– I saw you look over there, and–” He rubs his hand along his jaw. “I, um…” He looks to the ceiling, and says it in a rush. “I’m sorry this sounds awful but I saw you looking over at your knickers and I don’t want you to put them on because you look really hot wearing my shirt and the thought of you wearing nothing underneath makes my brain explode.”

“You’re one to talk,” you say, “standing in front of me in nothing but a pair of boxers like that doesn’t make my brain explode.”

Roger’s eyes flick towards yours, and he breaks out into a smile, and then laughs. “I guess we’re even, then.”

“We’ll be truly even when I see you wearing my clothes,” you say teasingly.

Roger steps in close, his hands coming to your waist. “I don’t think your dress would fit properly, love.”

“I’ll have to come better prepared next time,” you say, and Roger hums, leaning in to give you a kiss.

Next time. Next time. You said ‘next time’. Talk about presumptuous. Christ! What is wrong with you?

You break away. “Not that I think there’ll be a next time,” you say quickly. No. Bad phrasing. “I don’t want to assume there’ll be a next time.” Still bad. “I don’t want you to think that I think there has to be a next time.” Even worse. “I don’t want you to feel obliged to have a next time if you don’t want there to be.” Better. Not great, but passable.

“I want a next time,” Roger says. “If you want one.”

“I do,” you say, God, far too eager. “I’d really like there to be a next time.”

“Me too,” Roger says.

You press into him for another kiss, and then, finally, the two of you make it to bed.

Once you’re under the covers, you almost fall asleep immediately. You didn’t realise how exhausted you are. Roger reaches over and switches off the light, and then wraps an arm around your stomach, his front against your spine. You allow yourself to smile freely in the dark, even as your eyes close and you drift off to sleep.

~~~

“I’m… I’m going to send you the rest of the payment,” Roger says. He’s dressed for work, just in a white dress shirt and black slacks, and you’d been admiring him and enjoying the coffee he’d made you after you’d gotten out of the shower. It’s early – too early, for both of you.

But now your stomach drops, and you lower your mug of coffee from your lips. “You are?”

“Yes,” Roger says.

“You don’t have to,” you say. “I said it last night, I don’t care about the money.”

“I know,” Roger says. “But it’s still right. You started this whole thing to help pay the bills, and it’s not your fault that there was that whole mix-up. You don’t deserve to miss out on getting the money you’ve rightfully earned.”

“You don’t deserve to fork out that much money because of that whole mix-up,” you say. “You’ve already paid half of it. And it’s– it’s quite a fair bit, Roger.”

“I can afford to pay it,” Roger says. “I’m living more than comfortably. Giving you the money you’ve earned would just mean that I can’t, I don’t know, travel overseas this year.” He raises his eyebrows a touch. “Well, now that I might not have to be paying for three kids as well, maybe I’ll still be able to afford to go.” He shakes his head. “That’s beside the… My point is, I can afford it. And you deserve it.”

You don’t know what to say. “Roger…”

“Just let me,” he says earnestly. “Please. I want to.”

You open and close your mouth a few times. God, you’d be mad to turn down the money. But it doesn’t feel right. Does it? You don’t even know what to think.

You glance down at your mug. “All right,” you say quietly, so much so that you’re not even sure if he can hear you. But you can’t bring yourself to speak any louder. “Thank you, Roger.”

“Hey.”

You look up at him, and he smiles. “You can pay me back by letting me take you out to dinner.”

Your face immediately grows hot. “Suave motherfucker,” you say, and he laughs.

“I still have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he says playfully.

Your stomach squeezes. “Sure,” you say. “But I’m paying.”

Roger snorts. “Not bloody likely.”

“I’ll fight you for the cheque, don’t think I won’t.”

“Maybe I’ll just sneakily pay for it before you’ve even realised.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Can we settle on going Dutch?”

Roger sips his coffee. “All right,” he says eventually.

“Good.”

He takes out his phone, holding it out to you. “Text me some time during this week,” he says. “About where you want to go. Or just text me if you want to say hi. Or call me. Y’know, whatever.”

You tilt your head to the side as you take his phone. “That wasn’t quite as suave, I have admit.”

Roger sighs. “Damn.”

You laugh, and send a quick text to yourself, then slide the phone back to him.

He seems extremely pleased, but he takes a casual drink from his coffee like he’s trying to hide it, and you can’t help but think it’s horribly cute.

He shoots a glance at you, and sees you grinning at him, and his cheeks turn pink, and he clears his throat, turning away to the sink to rinse his mug out.

~~~

You’re at uni, half-asleep, shuffling back to the bus stop after your never-ending lecture, when Justine barrels into you, grabbing your elbow so tightly that you yelp. “What the fuck happened last night?” she exclaims.

You don’t know why it hadn’t been awkward this morning. Apart from the money conversation. There had still been some nervousness, on your part anyway, but Roger had been too focused on getting ready for work to let any uncomfortable silences hang. You have to admit that it had been nice to wake up with someone’s arm around you, and you had been quietly delighted to see Roger fussing over the faint bruises on his neck, pulling up his shirt collar and adjusting his tie to try to cover them. After you’d both gotten ready for the day, he’d dropped you at the nearest bus stop. “And I will text you,” he’d said seriously. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Good,” you’d said. “I’ll be waiting for it. Three days is the general rule, right?”

Roger had groaned. “Don’t make me wait three days.”

You had chuckled. “I’m not making you do anything.” You’d hesitated, and then said, “Is it weird if I kiss you before I go?”

Roger had taken a breath. “I… wouldn’t say so, no.”

So you’d leant in and kissed him, and he’d kissed you back, and you’d wanted to keep kissing him, but a car had pulled up behind you and honked, so you’d drawn back, whispered, “Bye,” and gotten out of the car.

Once you’d figured out how to get home, you’d crashed, sleeping until your alarm had woken you up again for your lecture.

“Stuff,” you say to Justine.

“Stuff?” Justine squawks. “Don’t give me that shit. You have to tell me literally everything, or I’m going to kill you. Come on.” She loops her arm through yours, and starts towing you towards the bus stop.

Your phone buzzes, and you pull it out of your pocket.

I know it hasn’t been three days, but it’s been more than three hours. Is that enough time, do you think?

You smile, reply, I think so, yeah, then quickly pocket the phone before Justine can sneak a glance as Amazonian butterflies flutter around in your stomach.

#queen fanfiction #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #rpf #mine #smut

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

Text

987

survey by shamegmeg

Have you ever cut your own hair? I’ve trimmed my own bangs but that’s it. I feel like doing anything to my hair altogether on my own is too big a move and would have bigger consequences if I fuck it up (which I definitely will end up doing).

What do you eat most frequently? Meat - chicken, beef, and pork. It’s in nearly every dish we eat, if not all of them.

Are you a fan of video games? I will always find the topic interesting and I played a fair share of video games growing up, but I’m not an ultra fan of any of the most popular games right now. I do like staying updated with my favorite series like Grand Theft Auto, The Sims, Mario Kart, etc. but it’s rare that I get my hands on the console itself to play.

What's your favorite color combination? I don’t really think of any specific two colors, but I’m generally a fan of combinations of muted or pastel colors. Anything that doesn’t hurt my eyes too much.

Did you share a locker at school? We didn’t do that; we each had our own.

What's one sport you could never play? Basketball. Never understood the rules and I just never had the stamina for it. I’m also pretty competitive so I feel like I’d be pissed off and take it personally whenever somebody blocks me hahaha.

Blue or black ink? Black. I have nothing against blue though - I just like keeping pens with black ink around more.

Have you ever sang karaoke? Just once or twice. I’m not extroverted enough for it, not even when drunk. I just really hate the sound of my own singing voice, so it doesn’t help if I’m suddenly singing into a microphone.

What was the last concert you attended? Answer’s gonna be unchanged for the meantime, man...Paramore. No complaints naming them every time I’m asked this, though. Let’s hope they’ll also be the next concert I attend, as they like coming back to Manila anyway :))

Have you held anyone's hand in the past week? No.

What's your favorite perfume/body spray/cologne? I’ve used Beyoncé’s Heat Rush since high school. I’ve never gotten tired of the scent and pretty much everyone knows me by that perfume now.

How long does it take you to get ready in the morning? Before Covid, it depended on how late I’d get out of bed. If I had the energy to get up earlier, I’d devote 20-30 minutes to getting ready; but if it was a harder morning to face, I’d just take a quick 3-minute shower and wear the first things I see in my closet. These days since I just work from home, all I need to do is shower which takes no more than a few minutes.

What is the oldest age you think should wear makeup? I think anyone of any gender of any age (except babies and younger kids) of any background from any walk of life should be allowed to wear makeup...

How old were you when you went on your first date? I was 16.

What's your nationality(ies)? Filipino.

Are you an open book? I can be for the most part since there’s no harm in sharing, but there are a few things that I’m extremely protective and secretive about.

Do you think you're a good secret keeper? Yeah. I used to share secrets with Gab but that’s because she tends to forget easily, but otherwise I have no problem taking secrets with me to my grave.

Name one fashion trend you could never follow. I have never been into wedges. Too chunky-looking.

Do you prefer long hair or short hair? On me? Short. It’s easier to maintain and take care of.

When do you plan to go to sleep tonight? Depends on how tired I am by the end of the day. I did make a cup of coffee today though so the caffeine might also choose to hang out into the evening.

Has anyone besides your family seen you naked? Yes.

If so, who? Gabie.

What exotic animal would you love to have as a pet? That’s a pass for me. I don’t know their temperament and what they need on a normal day, so I’m really not well-equipped to keep an exotic animal as a pet and I don’t want to end up accidentally killing them or something.

Do you want kids when you're older? At this point in my life I can go with or without them.

Did your parents sign you up for anything you hated as a child? I’m definitely grateful for it now, but when I was going through ballet classes as a five year old I absolutely hated it and had no idea what I was doing there. I wish I could tell my five year old self to appreciate it more because now I think it’s pretty cute that my parents wanted me to take up ballet and enrolled me in classes.

Where's your cell phone? It’s just right beside me. It’s always right beside me, haha.

Which came first, the chicken or the egg? I’ve always been a firm supporter of the egg lol because it had to be an earlier version of the chicken that laid the egg that would ultimately hatch the chicken as we know them today. Idk though, I hate questions like this hahahaha

What are your feelings about Octomom? I don’t know anything more than the fact that she had octuplets, which is awesome and badass in itself.

Do you know of Smosh? I used to LOVE Smosh, like holy shit. I probably talked about them in my earliest surveys a decade ago; simply put I was hooked. Watched every new episode and every new Lunchtime with Smosh/Ian Is Bored video from around maybe 2010-2013 until they started adding more crew members and until their videos started to stray from the content that made them blow up in the first place. I still remember when it was Smosh and Pewdiepie vying for the highest subscriber count on YouTube, haha. Was also sad when Anthony left. Suffice it to say I’ll always hold a fondness for Smosh - Anthony and Ian were my first favorite YouTubers along with Pewdiepie.

Do you drink enough water daily? Some days I do, some days I don’t.

Is your diet healthy? When I do eat my dishes are always a good balance of meat and veggies, but I feel like me skipping most of my meals overshadows that fact and makes my overall diet not-so-healthy.

What's your favorite fruit? The only one I’ve had and not feel like gagging whenever I consume it is avocado. To an extent, tomato too.

What was your favorite Halloween costume? Going as my former best friend, Sofie.

Have you purchased any cool objects from a foreign country? I bought a few trinkets from Japan when I was there, but they were all for my loved ones and I don’t exactly remember what I bought anymore.

Are you on a laptop or a desktop computer right now? Laptop.

Where do you plan to post this survey? Tumblr, as I’ve always done in the last near-decade or so.

Do you remember anyone's number by heart? My mom’s, sister’s, and Gabie’s.

Are you a morning person or a late night owl? I’m more of a morning person lately because of work and because of the need to be chirpy by 9 AM. Being awake these days makes me sad now, so I avoid staying up late as much as I can; which means my days of being a night owl are over.

Name something you will never try in your lifetime. Coprophagia.

What do you think is your biggest flaw? I’m super competitive, which makes me the suckiest person to have friendly games with. I avoid them altogether so that I don’t end up killing the vibe of whatever crowd I’m with. I’ll own this lol.

First physical trait you notice in the sex you're attracted to? Wouldn’t say I’m automatically attracted to any sex. With everyone though, I tend to notice body language first which kiiinda counts as a physical trait.

How about personality wise? Whether they look approachable/easy to talk to or not.

Are you sick often? Almost never.

Would you rather have strep throat or an ear infection? Uh I’d rather not be sick at all hahaha.

When did you last shower? This morning, before work. We have online meetings every Monday morning, and I wanted to look fresh and clean for it.

Do you have neat handwriting? I’d say so. I get a lot of compliments about my penmanship and my friends usually call on me when they need someone with consistent and clean handwriting, so I guess must be holding my pens right.

Are you a messy or organized person? I’d say my workspaces are always organized but my personal space (car, backpack, etc) is messy.

At what age do you hope to get married? By the end of my 20s or early 30s.

Is being thin really all that great? Idk, I feel like the experience differs per person. I don’t have complaints about it for the most part, but it can get annoying when there are certain tops I’d like to wear but will never be able to pull off and thus have to leave on the rack just because my chest is flat or my overall figure is rather tiny.

Which of the seven deadly sins do you think you're most guilty of? Pride.

How much time have you spent on the computer today? 9 hours and counting. WFH is basically being on the computer all day, so that’s a big reason why I’ve racked up so many hours.

What size shoe are you? 6–7.5.

How was the weather today? The sun was out but fortunately it wasn’t all that hot for me to feel uncomfortable. I hate that it was bright all day, though. My disposition is more likely to improve if it’s cloudy and a little gloomy, haha.

Do you live above, below, or on the Equator? Above.

Do you know how to use Photoshop? I tried to play and experiment with it as a teen, but it just never made sense to me. I hate touching any kind of Adobe program.

Admit it, you're thinking about someone right now. Eh, false. I’m thinking of how much longer this survey will still be.

Where is he/she?

Where was your first job? My first internship was also at a PR agency, if that counts.

Favorite year in high school? Junior year.

East or West? As in parts of the world? East all the way, of course.

Where did your first kiss take place? On my bed.

What color do you wear most often? Probably maroon because of how many UP shirts I have.

Who was the last person you talked on the phone to? That would be my dad.

Have you ever done your own laundry? Kinda. I’ve had to wash my blanket a few times because Cooper peed on them.

Have you ever been to a night club? Yes.

Are you allergic to anything? Nope.

What's the best place you have ever eaten? Mendokoro Ramenba by a freaking mile.

Do you own a hair straightener? No. My mom does; if I ever need a straightener I just borrow hers.

Are you barefoot right now? Yep, always am when I’m at home except for the rare times I put socks on.

Are you subscribed to any magazine? No. Even when magazine subscriptions were popular I was never subscribed to any; I didn’t see the point when I could just get the new issue every month at the mall myself lol.

Puppies or kittens? Puppies.

If you had a billion dollars, where would your first investment be made? First I would probably read up on investment so that I don’t end up making decisions I’ll regret. My first agenda is to help my parents settle whatever payments they’re making at the moment, so that they don’t have to worry about any of that crap anymore.

Who is the best artist you've seen live? PARAMORE. I mean they’re artists, as in plural, but still.

Any major plans coming up this week? Keep myself alive.

Did you know they never told you Arnold's last name in Hey, Arnold? Never realized that but I don’t really care too much, considering I was never into the show.

Would you rather watch a romantic comedy or watch a thrilling horror movie? Romantic comedy, as long as it’s one I’ve already seen and enjoyed, like Love Actually or The Proposal. Most other romcoms are too cheesy and suck.

How is your hair styled right now? It’s in a ponytail that’s been unchanged all day, so it’s a bit messy at this point.

Favorite person that you've talked to today? Angela.

Do you need AC right now? I’m good. It’s a little chilly tonight, so yay.

Do more people call you by a nickname or your first name? My first name is already my nickname - most people just call me Robyn. At home, though, I’m usually called a shortened version of my name.

Name something you're proud of. I confided in Angela today that I’m finally starting to think of seeing a therapist. Which I think is such a big realization to have and a big choice to have made. So yay me. Let’s hope I actually push through with it, and let’s hope I’m able to land a job soon so I can finally fucking afford to see one.

Are you a hopeless romantic? I never knew what this meant and I don’t feel like learning tonight.

How do you feel about couples who say 'I love you' too soon? No judgment. I don’t comment on how other couples navigate their relationship; it’s their thing.

What's the most recent favor you've done for somebody? Can’t remember.

Are you at home right now? Yep.

What did you last spend money on? Gas.

Does any accent annoy you? Stereotypical ones, like how Filipino-American stand-up comedians always try to cash in on Filipino quirks and make fun of thick Filipino accents, which makes all Filipinos look like we can’t speak English ‘properly,’ whatever properly means. Full-blooded Filipinos are so sick of that shit. We get it, the cellpown is ober der -___-

How about turn you on? None actively turn me on.

Are you wearing any jewelry? No.

Do you get along better with your mom or your dad? Dad. Easier to talk to and we share more interests.

Are you craving anything right now? Sushi.

What's worse: Crocs or Uggs? I’d go with Uggs, because Crocs actually look cute on kids so at least it suits one market lol

Do you knock before you open doors? Yep, always. I learned the habit because my mom never knocks and I quickly realized I don’t want to be that kind of person.

Do you know what a sock on the doorknob means? I think so.

Chocolate or vanilla? Chocolate.

What's your zodiac sign? Taurus.

Does Fred from Youtube annoy you? I don’t think he ever did.

#survey #surveys

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ernhardt-atlas · 5 years ago

Text

It Lives No More- Part 2

“

Summary: It’s been a 6 years since the events of It Lives Beneath have happened and the crew has mostly moved on from it. Parker’s nowhere to be found, Danni has become the top writer for ClickIt, Tom’s graduated from Hartfield with his robotics degree and is working on starting his own shop, and Imogen is happily married to Athena Vance in Athena’s old home. One day in the summer the gang decides to get back together for a reunion trip to see each other.

Last Chapter: The gang (sans Parker, obviously) has gotten back together after years of going on thier own paths and are on their way to the movies to watch “Desire and Decorum: II”. Athena suffers a horrible nightmare about what happened in the events of It Lives Beneath. Even though she’s moved away from the town, the memories continue to haunt her.

“…so I was in a really low place when Sonia broke up with me at Hartfield, and the band and I decided to go on tour out of the country for a while,” Kaitlyn recalled, looking out the window. “We went to Japan, which is where I finally met Danni…”

The girls were getting set up at a local club in Tokyo. Amara offered to set up on the stage, Rachel had fucked off to God knows where (thankfully she always shows up just before the concert starts. So Kaitlyn was all alone in the VIP lounge room. She nursed a cup of champange, looking wistlessly at her phone.

For whatever reason, she went on social media to see how everyone was. Zack and Grant got engaged, Abbie and Tyler broke up but split the profits of the game they made equally, so now Abbie owns a museum with world famous artist Nadia Park. There have been rumors that she’s been seeing famous actress Gem of Hollywood, but neither has either confirmed and denied it. As for Tyler, he’s working with a team of techies to build what will be known as the Atlas so people can finally move out of Earth to other planets. Most people think he won’t be able to do it, but he’s teamed up with some of the top technicians in the country. No one knows their exact location, and aside from announcing the project, nothing’s been revealed yet. Zig’s been teaching in Japan, and he tweeted that he was gonna visit the concert soon. Chris is all over American news, but no one’s really surprised. Becca moved to New York and is gunning for the district attorney position.

Then…there was Sonia. After they broke up and Sonia refused to get back together in London, she went back to London after graduating. She hesitated to look at Sonia’s page, but she clicked on it anyway. Sonia’s been featured on literature magazines around the world, been invited on several talk shows, and even helped with writing the script for the Desire and Decorum movie series. But that wasn’t what she was most focused on. Her most recent pictures…she had gotten with James while they collaborated on more playwrighting projects They were moving in with each other, and it looked like James was going to propse with the way he and Sonia talked about each other online. It hurt a lot to see, since she spent the past couple years trying to push Sonia and all her friends at Hartfield out of her mind and only keep in contact with Abby.

A barista came over and placed a drink on Kaitlyn’s table.

“I didn’t order anything?” Kaitlyn said, confused.

“It’s from the lady sitting at the bar. Says her name’s Danni. She wants to talk to you.”

Kaitlyn wanted to say she wasn’t really intrested in talking to anyone when she got a glimpse of the woman the barista was referring to. Within seconds, she was sitting with the girl at the bar.

“So we talked for while before the concert,” Kaitlyn continued, back in the present. “She interviewed me for her company, but we also decided to sneak out of the concert for a while…we were back in time of course!”

“Her bandmates wouldn’t stop teasing her about it when we came back. Damn Kaitlyn was on fire that night,” Danni added. “You know she kept eye contact with me the whole time and blew me a kiss.”

“I invited her back to our hotel room to hang out with her during our stay in Tokyo and promised to see each other once we got back in America. We’ve been together ever since.”

“Awwww!” Imogen gushed. “Meeting the love of your life at a concert sounds so poetic and romantic.”

“Yeah, I met my wife here fighting lake monsters and trying to take down an evil cult,” Athena laughed. Imogen laughed as well, but not as earnestly. She looks down at her stomach. Athena noticed Imogen’s look and placed a gentle hand on her stomach.

“For all I know, my mom could have been pregnant with me while she was working with the society,” Imogen murmured. “How long was she planning to keep all of that from me?”

“Genny...” Athena whispered softly, trying to ease her mind from her awful parents. Personally, she didn’t miss their controlling behavior towards Imogen and was secretly glad they were dead. Well, maybe there were less gory ways for them to die.

Imogen on the other hand, was unable to let them go. Athena didn’t blame her, as much as she despised her parents. In one summer, she lost her best friend, her parents, and her horse. Athena swore she’d do anything in her power to make her feel better about it.

“Getting close to your due date, huh, Genny?” Tom asked suddenly. “You sure this road trip is a good idea?”

Imogen snapped out of her funk. “Huh? Oh, I’ll be fine, as long as I don’t do anything too extreme. “

The van pulled up at the movie theare and they all climbed out. They paid for their tickets and headed inside.

Tom and Andy voluenteered to get snacks while the girls found their seats. A few minutes later everyone was settled and ready to watch the movie. Kaitlyn and Imogen sighed as they watch Lady Clara woo Annabelle in the movie.

“I can’t wait till Clara does away with that awful Duke so she can live happily ever after with Miss Parsons,” Imogen whispered.

“Me as well. If that were me I would have probably killed the duke by now, keeping me away from the woman of my dreams,” Athena responded with a frown. Imogen rested her head on Athena’s shoulder in response. Athena pressed a gentle kiss to her wife’s forehead.

The two of them giggled a little and continue watching the movie. They’re about halfway into the movie when they heard soft snoring coming from behind them. Athena turns around and sees Tom and Andy sleeping peacefully, but clumsily.

“I guess the movie wasn’t their thing,” Kaitlyn giggled, only to find that Danni had also fallen asleep on her shoulder. “Damn, and I wanted to sneak in some movie kisses.”

Imogen gave Athena a coy smile, sliding into her lap.

“Normally I would complain about being unable to see the movie, but this view is 100 times better,” Athena chuckled as she wrapped an arm around Imogen’s waist and pulled her closer. Imogen tried to stifle her giggles as Athena peppered kisses on her cheeks.

Soon, the movie ended, and Athena turned around to wake up the sleeping young men behind them. Andy was the first to wake up, his face barely inches from Tom’s. He smirked.

“Not bad,” he said with a grin. Tom opened his eyes wide, blushing.

“Andy! I uh…I mean…I didn’t see you there!”

Tom and Andy untangled themselves from each other and got up from their seats. Andy stretched.

“I’m gonna go grab more snacks for the road,” he said, walking off.

“You’ve been dating him for what, 5 years? How do you still get so flustered around Andy?” Danni asked Tom.

“There’s a distinct difference between seeing someone as your best friend and seeing someone as the love of your life that you want to spend forever with, ok?” Tom stammered. “Yes, we’ve been dating for 5 years but I still feel the same way I did when he asked me out.”

“Seems you’ve got it bad for Andy then,” Kaitlyn joked. “If you love him so much, why don’t you marry him?”

“Well…” Tom trailed off. He stopped when he noticed the girls grinning at him. “N-not that I was planning for that to happen or anything!”

“Planning for what?” They hear Andy ask from behind them.

“Planning for this awesome night on the town Tom wanted to take you on once we got to the hotel,” Athena cut in, winking at Tom. Tom frantically sliced a hand across his throat, but it’s too late.

Andy eagerly pulled him out of the theatre and into the car. Over his shoulder, Tom mouthed something but Athena can’t read his lips. She just smiled and mouthed, “You’re welcome.”

#text #it lives beneath #it lives anthology #it lives in the woods #athena vance #imogen wescott #danni asturias #tom sato #andy kang #tom x andy #kaitlyn liao #kaitlyn x danni #athena x imogen #ilnm #playchoices #ilitw #ilb #tf

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arosnowflake · 5 years ago

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I’m creating an esper girl AU because of course I am, and it focuses on the girls teaming up to save pretty much all the other espers of Seasoning City, who have been kidnapped by a mysterious organization. Anyway here’s a rundown of everyone’s powers I have so far:

Mezato: brainwashing, but like, mostly subtle. She basically has a form of telepathy/empathy that focuses on projecting her emotions/thoughts/wants/needs onto others, and uses that to influence people’s minds. She usually does this over a longer period of time, because that’s harder to detect or resist, but can brute force her way into your brain if need be.

Tome: spacey powers; gravity control, wormhole creation, light manipulation (or rather, darkness manipulation; mostly the ability to take light away from places and make it dark, though other abilities sneak in too). Also has some very basic psychokinesis.

Emi: written curses/talismans. She can curse anything she writes on, as well as make portable curses on paper. In addition, she can also protect anything she write on and create written talismans for people to carry. Also has the ability to see curses.

Tsubomi: necromancy and control over living beings. More specifically, she can control physical aspects of both dead and living things, such as bones, blood, tissue, etc. Can also create decay, and has chlorokinesis.

Rei: extrasensory perception/clairvoyance. Yes I know she’s a canon esper I just wanted to make clear she’s involved in my AU.

More details about their powers and a little bit about the role I’m planning on giving them in my AU under the cut.

Mezato:

Her powers manifested when she was too young to remember, and she’s used them on an almost daily basis since. This made her spoiled rotten and used to getting her way, creating an ego similar to that of Teru or even Touichirou. However, after the Divine Tree Incident, she got some character development and realized that always getting what she wants through mind control has left her hollow, which, combined with the newfound knowledge of just how scary it can be to be on the receiving end of mind control, has knocked her down a few pegs and made her use her powers less.

Is mostly a support member, searching out information by brainwashing people into giving it for her and/or using her brainwashing to get access to places she shouldn’t have.

Has the best control of her powers out of everyone in the group, and functions as something of a mentor for the rest because of that, despite her distinct un-mentor-like personality and the fact that her powers aren’t really comparable to most of the group’s.

Her power level is rather high, somewhere around Teru’s and/or Takenaka’s level, but she’s not and will never be as overpowered as Mob.

Has a very faint, sickly yellow aura. Can brainwash you into overlooking it, forgetting you ever saw it, etc.

Avoided the organization’s detection because her power is very subtle and hard to recognize, and even telepaths and empaths generally don’t pick up on her aura because she has a unique mix of the two abilities.

Tome:

Her gravity control functions basically the same as the leader of the Seventh Division’s, but much less powerful (and she can’t create orbs at the start of the story).

Her wormhole creation is basically just cool space themed teleportation, with the added bonus of making it easy for to teleport large groups (but she develops it relatively late into the story).

Light manipulation mainly focuses on being able to take light away from a place, so it looks more like she’s controlling darkness than light. However, later during the story, she develops invisibility (and maybe even the ability to manipulate colour? idk I think it’d be cool).

By ‘very basic psychokinesis’, I mean that she can do basic esper things like create barriers/have raw explosions of energy, but can’t do anything more advanced. Doesn’t even have telekinesis. Cannot shape her raw psychic powers like the vectors Teru/that one Seventh division guy uses. At most can blast people somewhere like Serizawa, but it’s much weaker than his. Mostly, her psychic powers lie in her space themed powers.

Her powers manifested when she came under Rusty’s curse, as a desperate reaction to try and keep her alive, but since they only manifested as a slight increase in gravity and some darkness swirling, everyone assumed it was Rusty’s curse and didn’t pay it any mind. Tome later found out that they were her powers, and was planning on telling someone, but then all the espers got kidnapped.

Has really shoddy control of her powers to start with, bc she only just manifested them, but learns and grows quickly.

Has impressive powers but a moderate to moderately high power level, a little weaker than Ritsu to start with and eventually developing to somewhere around his level.

Acts as one of the front line members and is often on the offense, because her powers are very well suited for it, and she’s the only one of the team who can create barriers. Later also helps with stealth missions, after she masters her darkness control/invisibility, and acts as the transportation for the team after she manifests the ability to create wormholes.

Has a very noticeable galaxy aura when she’s using her powers, but it’s faint if she’s not. It gradually becomes more and more noticeable even when she’s ‘in rest’ over the course of the series.

Evaded detection by the organization because her powers had only just manifested, and nobody except her knew they existed.

Emi:

Manifested her powers during the last exam period, after she got way too stressed and her powers pulled a Ritsu and awakened. This happened about a year prior to the start of the story. Found out about her powers after she noticed she had accidentally cursed her teacher with her exam, and suddenly gained the ability to see spirits.

Is bad at detecting esper auras, because her power set is very unique and has little overlap with either psycho/telekinetics or telepaths/empaths.

How powerful her curses/talismans are is almost entirely dependent on how much time she’s had to prepare them; she stores up energy into the curses/talismans, which releases when the curse/talisman is activated.

She does have an upper limit, of course; the most extreme talisman she could create would be a one-time protection against death, and the most extreme curse she could create would either cause minor decay in a person or collapse a building. She cannot store power for longer than a week.

Has a moderate to moderately high power level. However, her unique power set makes her hard to compare to others. Would, with practice, maybe be about as powerful as or just a little weaker than the curse guy from the Seventh Division, but her power is less suited for battle bc she needs to store energy first.

Has really bad control over her powers bc she’s scared of them; accidentally curses almost anything she writes on, and doesn’t really know what her base powers are. Doesn’t even know she can make talismans at the start of the story. Eventually becomes more confident and gains better control over them.

She didn’t tell Mob or any other esper about her powers because of the aforementioned fear of them. Was, however, working up to asking someone for help after realizing she can’t control them herself; had told Tome in confidence, who was planning on asking Reigen for advice on this (since he may not be an esper, but he knows pretty much all the espers in Seasoning City).

Avoided detection by the organization partially because she’d told almost nobody of her powers, and partly because her unique power set gave her an aura that’s practically invisible to most other espers.

Has an ink black aura that rises up from her hands like thick smoke/ghibli tears when she’s writing her curses; otherwise doesn’t have an aura at all.

Rarely to never goes out into actual danger situations, because her powers are basically useless for spur of the moment defense. Almost a complete behind the scenes support member, making curses for the team to use and talismans to protect them.

Note to self: prime damsel in distress material. Might get kidnapped at some point.

Made friends with Tome online after finding out they both liked the same game.

Tsubomi:

Her powers give her the ability to, among other things: have rudimentary brute force control over animal’s bodies (sort of similar to blood bending but harder to maintain; this drains a lot of energy and is generally impractical), deform tissue/blood/bones in animals (hard to control, but easy to manifest), control over plant bodies (the easiest for her), control corpses (very easy), cause decay in things (pretty easy in organic matter, a lot harder in inorganic matter), and heal living thigns (very difficult, requires fine tuned control).

Manifested her power about one to two years after she stopped being friends with Mob, but rarely if ever uses it because it really freaked her parents out and they encouraged her to keep it secret, and because her powers are by and large useless in day to day situations.

She’s not particularly bothered by the nature of her powers herself, but does recognize that it’s very morbid to others, and can be pretty self-conscious about that.

Her control over her powers is decent, but not great. She has a fairly good grasp on what her base abilities are and doesn’t have wild explosions of power, but is bad at knowing where her limits lie and unpracticed in a lot of areas of her power.

She’s extremely powerful, about at Touichirou’s level, and if she was more practiced, she might even be able to hold her own against Mob.

Is the tank of the team; because of her raw power, she often brute forces her way through obstacles. The biggest issue with her is that her control isn’t fine tuned enough to ensure that she won’t seriously injure or kill people if she goes against them, which, in the beginning, makes it difficult to send her out into the field. However, once she gets the hang of that, she’s easily the most powerful.

Evaded detection by the organization because she never told anyone she was an esper, and because she moved out of Seasoning City about a year prior to the start of the story.

Emi was a friend in school and she maintained contact with her after she moved.

Gets dragged into the story after Tome, Emi, and Rei evacuate Seasoning City and come to her.

Rei:

Only canon esper in the gang, and mostly maintains her canon powers. However, due to frequent practice over the course of about four years, her extrasensory perception/clairvoyance now has about an 80% accuracy rate, and she can even sometimes sense nebulous things from the future, such as ‘danger’ or ‘happiness’.

She actually was detected by the organization, but she felt a sense of danger before they came to kidnap her and booked it. When she realized that almost all of her friends weren’t answering their phone, she figured out that espers were probably being targeted by someone, and went to Tome for help, who seemed like the safest option at the time. Tome realizes she might be watched bc of her work at Spirits and Such, and brings them both to Emi, after which they decide it would be saver to go out of town entirely and go to stay with Tsubomi.

She went to Tome for help because she was one of the two (supposed) non-espers involved in esper shenanigans she knew. The other was the Awakening Lab guy, but after being kidnapped by Claw, she realizes that he would almost certainly be watched, and opted for Tome instead.

While they aren’t close, acquaintances more than friends, she knows Tome from Spirits and Such.

Functions as a support member, primarily; while she does go out into the field if necessary (usually paired up with Mezato, because she could point to people who probably has information/are important and Mezato could take care of them), she also often stays at home base, sifting through documents and internet rumors to find the ones that she can sense would be the most useful.

As in canon, her power level is very low, but she is definitely one of the most practiced members of the group and has good advice on how to train your powers. Along with Mezato, functions as something of a mentor as a result, and is very nervous about it.

#emi #takane tsubomi #ichi mezato #kurata tome #kurosaki rei #mp100 #mezato #*tsubomi voice* you cannot kill me in any way that matters. decay is an extant form of life.#tsubomi's power is still under contruction and might change to heat manipulation #but i think this is pretty badass #my posts #also don't get ur hopes up about me actually writing this #i suck at action scenes and this would most likely have a ton of them #so unless i can figure out how to avoid that im probably not gonna write a full blown fic for this #esper girl gang au

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chiera99 · 5 years ago

Text

Finding Emo (Part 2)

Title: Finding Emo

Word Count (for the whole thing) : 2742

Summary: Angst, Hurt/Comfort with a happy ending. Deceit kidnapped Virgil because Roman broke up with him, and now he wants to take everything from him. Roman also works at a police department. Human!AU, Platonic!Prinxiety, could also be interpreted as romantic, past Romantic!Roceit

Warnings: Blood, unsympathetic!Deceit, violence, kidnapping, description of injury, hospitals

Part 1

<°><°><°><°>

It was 2am.

Roman was lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling.

His mind was racing. He couldn't stop worrying about Virgil, and he was constantly trying to find clues.

Who could've done this? The kidnapper must have had a reason.

Could it be one of his friends? Virgil was the person Roman spent the most time with. Maybe they were jealous?

No, that couldn't be. Remy was way too lazy to do something like that. He was sleeping most of the time anyways.

Logan did hide his emotions most of the time, but he wouldn't do something illogical like that. He always thought his actions through, and he would never hurt one of his friends.

Patton? No, no, that just couldn't be. The man was the most precious, innocent, and nice human being Roman has ever met. He was devastated when he had found out that Virgil had disappeared.

Who else did he know, that has had a proper meeting with Virgil?

Wait.

Roman's eyes widened.

~Flashback~

"I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU EVER AGAIN IN MY LIFE!", Roman screamed with tears streaming down his face, shoving Deceit out the door. "AND TAKE YOUR FUCKING CIGARETTES WITH YOU." He threw a box of cigarettes at his head.

Deceit tripped, falling onto his knees.

"Stay away from me and my friends. We're done.", Roman said, slamming the door shut. He stayed behind the door, waiting for Deceit to leave.

He heard some shuffling, before he heard a chuckle.

"You will regret this, Roman. You will regret this."

After that, heavy footsteps were heard, moving away from the door.

~Flashback over~

He sat up abruptly, his hands shaking.

No.

Nonononononono this couldn't be.

It couldn't be.

Could it?

He quickly got up, falling off his bed before quickly getting up, and scrambling towards the phone. He speed-dialled a number and hit the call button, breathing heavily.

A tired voice answered. "Hello? It's 2am, who is this?"

"THOMAS", Roman practically screamed into the phone.

A loud thump could be heard from the other line, a quiet curse, and some shuffling. Thomas had dropped the phone.

"Jesus Christ, Roman, don't scream like that!", Thomas said pained, panting from the shock.

"Thomas, I-I think I know wh-where Virgil is. "

"Wait, what? Where?"

"I'm not completely sure, but I've gone through every single person I know that could've done this. And I could only think of one person.", Roman said, shaking.

"Who is it?", Thomas asked. Roman sucked in a shaky breath.

"Deceit."

Silence on the other line.

"T-Thomas?", Roman asked.

"Roman. Did Deceit smoke or own cigarettes?"

"Wh-What?", Roman asked, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

"Did he smoke or own cigarettes?", Thomas repeated.

"W-well, yes. W-Why?", Roman stuttered.

"What brand?", Thomas asked, sounding suspicious.

"V-Viper Blueberry."

A sharp intake of breath was heard on the other line.

"T-Thomas? What is it?", Roman asked anxiously.

"Roman, do you remember what we found in the alley? Next to Virgil's jacket?"

Roman stared at the ground, confused. What did they find?

But then, he remembered.

"A-A box of Viper Blueberry cigarettes.", Roman said.

"Could this be a coincidence?", Thomas asked.

"N-No, Deceit said that the brand was extremely unpopular here in Florida. He always bought it online.", Roman stammered. "It has to be him."

"Where does he live?", Thomas asked. There was paper rustling in the background.

"Mamba Boulevard 5, but he also owns a house on the countryside, Sidewinder Street 1. It's more likely for Virgil to be there."

"Okay Roman, listen carefully now. I have a plan. We're going to do this tomorrow, call Remy and tell him what we found out.", Thomas ordered and hung up.

Roman immediately called Remy, quickly telling him the plan and what they had found out.

-------------------------------

It was 8am when they arrived at Sidewinder Street 1.

Three police cars were parked around 300 feet away from the seemingly abandoned house.

"Are you sure that this is going to work, Roman?", Officer Joan asked, readjusting his bullet-proof west.

"I know Deceit well. This is going to work, trust me.", Roman told them, pulling his normal clothes over his police clothes.

"Now, everyone, hide in your assigned places.", Thomas said, and all the policemen hid behind bushes in the yard, until it looked like only Roman was there.

Roman took a deep breath, before he walked up to the door and fiercely knocked on it. There were some hesitating steps, before the door was opened.

In front of him, Deceit looked at him with a shocked face, before an evil grin spread on his face.

"Hello Roman. What gives me the pleasure of your visit?", Deceit asked innocently, crossing his arms. Roman got a short look at his hand, where he could see little drops of blood, but no visible injury.

It was Virgil's blood.

Roman felt his anger mounting, but he forced himself to stay calm.

"Where is Virgil?", Roman asked, clenching his fists.

"Who's she? Never heard of her.", Deceit grinned, leaning against the door frame.

"You know EXACTLY who he is. I order you to let him go.", Roman growled.

"My my, Roman, always so straightforward." Deceit chuckled. "And what makes you think that I have him?"

Roman pulled out the box of cigarettes and shoved it in Deceit's face. "We found these next to Virgil's jacket. I'm sure they belong to you."

Deceit looked at the box with a bored look in his eyes. "Ah yes, I figured that I had lost them somewhere. Thank you for finding them.", he grinned. "And now-"

Roman's eyes widened as he watched Deceit pull out a gun.

"-it's time for someone else to come home."

Deceit aimed the gun at Roman, a twisted grin on his face.

Roman took a startled step back, before grinning.

"NOW!", he yelled, and suddenly, a big group of policemen jumped out of the bushes.

This was the first time Roman had seen Deceit genuinely scared.

Officer Joan, Officer Talyn and Officer Thomas simultaneously pointed their guns at Deceit.

"DROP THE GUN!", Thomas yelled.

Deceit looked startled, his hands shaking. But then, he grinned, and quickly aimed the gun at Roman's chest before pulling the trigger.

The loud sound of the gunshot echoed. Everyone held their breaths.

Roman looked at his chest with wide eyes, before instantly changing his expression to triumph. He lifted up his shirt and pointed at the bullet-proof west he was wearing.

"Nice try.", he grinned, before tackling Deceit to the ground, kicking the gun away, which Joan quickly picked up and handed to Talyn, who confiscated it.

Roman wrestled with Deceit for a few seconds, before he got Deceit to lay on his stomach. He quickly put handcuffs on his hands, making Deceit unable to fight.

"Take him to the car. I'm gonna go find Virgil. Joan, Talyn, follow me please.", Roman ordered, handing Deceit to Thomas.

Roman quickly walked into the house, Joan and Talyn following close behind. They searched the whole upper part of the house, before they came upon a staircase. Roman walked down, Joan behind him, Talyn after Joan. Then they found themselves standing in front of a wooden door.

The door was pretty weak, so Roman was able to kick it in.

He was greeted with a sight that would forever be burned into his head.

Virgil was sitting against a pole with closed eyes, his head was hanging in front of him, his limp body was slumped against pole. Bruises and cuts littered Virgil's face and arms, the rest was covered, and Roman didn't want to imagine the rest amount of injuries Virgil had. The worst part was the dried blood on the ground and the wall behind him.

Roman quickly ran to Virgil's side. "Call an ambulance.", he ordered. Joan quickly pulled out their walky-talky and shouted instructions into it.

Meanwhile, Roman untied Virgil and picked him up bridal-style, carefully carrying him outside.

Virgil's eyes fluttered. "Wh-What?", he whispered, confused.

"Shhh, it's me, Roman. You're safe.", Roman said, smiling, tears running down his cheeks. Virgil gave him a relieved smile, before closing his eyes again.

As soon as he got out of the house, two ambulances arrived. Two male nurses jumped out, one had dark brown hair that was neatly styled and was wearing black glasses, the other one had caramel-colored hair that was a bit wilder and was wearing black glasses aswell. Both were wearing blue clothes.

Roman smiled, seeing his two friends.

The one with the dark brown hair, Logan, quickly took Virgil out of Roman's hands and carried him into one of the ambulances. The other one with the caramel-colored hair, Patton, gasped at the sight of Virgil. Patton was one of Virgil's best friends.

Patton and Logan both disappeared inside the ambulance, closing the doors behind them.

Roman quickly turned around to face Thomas, who nodded, knowing what Roman was going to ask.

"Go ahead, Virgil needs you right now.", he said.

Roman shot him a grateful smile, before he turned around and sprinted towards the ambulance Virgil was in.

-------------------------------

Roman sat next to Virgil's hospital bed.

Luckily, the injuries of the normally darkly-dressed man weren't too fatal. Deceit was sentenced to 30 years in jail for kidnapping, attempted murder, false imprisonment and torture. Roman wished that he would've been put behind bars for life, but he wasn't the judge. He wished he was.

Roman stared at Virgil. His eyes were closed, his chest was rising and falling softly. Bandages circled his arms and chest, and one huge bandaid went around his head. Little red spots were visible on the bandages.

Roman sighed and lowered his head. He could've done something earlier. If he had just analyzed the situation earlier, Virgil wouldn't be in this condition. If he had just-

Suddenly, he heard a cough from the bed.

Roman's head snapped up. Virgil had opened his eyes and was lazily smiling at him.

Tears started gathering in Roman's eyes, some already rolling down his face. He let out a relieved sob, throwing his arms around Virgil, hugging him tightly.

"Woah, miss me much, Princey?", Virgil laughed, hugging him back.

"I'm so sorry, Virgil! This is all my fault. I could've protected you, I could've saved you! If I had stayed with him, nothing would've happened and-", Princey ranted, before Virgil quickly stopped him.

"Woahwoahwoah, no, what are you talking about?", Virgil asked, pulling Roman back to look into his eyes. "None of this is your fault. And NEVER say that you should've stayed with him. What you two had was NOT healthy, and you had every right to end it. This is all Deceit's fault. Not yours."

"But-"

"No, no but's. Roman. It's okay. Everything's okay.", Virgil whispered.

Roman looked into Virgil's tear-filled, brown eyes.

And at that moment, he knew that everything would be alright.

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theteablogger · 6 years ago

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Same shit, different day

Earlier this week, I received an email from Claire, one of the people who met Andy in Los Angeles. She’s the woman whom Andy complimented on her “trophy boyfriend”, who was actually Kyle Hill. She is also the person who first alerted Molly to the existence of the Andy awareness blogs. After another friend recognized him from LotR fandom and filled Molly in on some of his history, which led directly to Andy’s eviction from her home, Claire started looking for more information and found the AA blogs and tf-talk.

On December 12, I posted about the “trophy boyfriend” incident and noted that Andy had in fact been aware of who Kyle was before that happened. Andy read the post and decided to reach out to Claire. She had blocked him on all of her accounts, or so she thought, but Andy looked around and realized that he was still able to contact her via her Facebook fan page, which she checks infrequently. On January 29, over a month after I made my post, he sent her the following message, which she didn’t see until this past weekend:

In the first line, Andy is referring to the days after he was evicted from Molly’s house, when he was trying to get Claire to meet with him and hear his side of the story. In her words:

I always want to give people the benefit of the doubt and believe those who say they have changed, or are trying to change, but there were just too many red flags with Andy for me to want to continue any contact at that point.

The meeting never took place.

Contacting someone to tell them he’s not stalking them, via the only account on which they’d forgotten to block him, more than seven months after they’d cut him off, actually does make Andy look a little bit like a stalker. I’m not saying that he’s stalking Claire and Kyle now, or that he was stalking them when he sent this message, or that he was stalking them last summer. I’m just pointing out the irony.

Also? I never said that Andy was stalking Claire and Kyle, or anyone else from that group of friends. Andy is concern-trolling, and he isn’t even being subtle about it.

What I actually said in my post was that in late spring/early summer, Andy had added a bunch of Molly’s friends on social media without ever having met them before, and had “thoroughly checked out” their accounts. I based this on Molly’s statement that he had done so as part of his attempt to insta-bond with her friend group. She further stated, “...he would speak about my friends, their lives and their interests and trials and tribulations as if they were very, very close friends [of his],” despite having had very little interaction with them on- or off-line. He’d only known Molly’s friends for about two weeks at the point that he was kicked out, and had only talked with the majority of them in group situations, so where did he get this information? From their social media, obviously. I would not and did not go so far as to call Andy’s social media trawling “stalking”, but I think that trying to use the information he found to create an illusion of intimacy with the group was very creepy, especially given all of his other questionable behavior at the time. Anyway, it’s extremely unlikely that he could have looked around to that extent without running into any of Kyle’s activity.

I further commented that because Andy was a member of Project Alpha, which was streaming Kyle’s show as well as other content in which he appeared, Andy had probably seen him there. I still think this was a reasonable assumption, especially given that Andy’s pretext for suddenly realizing who Kyle was, was seeing him on Gather Your Party.

Finally, I shared a screenshot of Andy retweeting a link to one of Kyle’s videos last April. This indicates that Andy had heard of Kyle over a month before he went to LA and started digging for information in Molly’s friends’ social media, at which point Kyle almost certainly would have come up on his radar again. It’s disingenuous to say that I extrapolated evidence of “stalking” from one little tweet, and I don’t believe Andy really thought I’d done that.

After assuring Claire that he wasn’t trying to re-establish contact (again, by sending her a message on the only account on which he wasn’t blocked) and describing my post in a misleading way, Andy said:

[The alleged accusation of stalking] frankly, would scare the shit out of me if I was you and I don’t want you to be and have never wanted you to be hurt.

This sentence was, in my opinion, an attempt to establish several things. Andy is sensitive and empathetic. Claire is (or ought to be) frightened by a supposed allegation that he might be stalking her. Andy cares about her and wants to protect her. And I, the anon blogger, am the real villain for causing Claire emotional distress in the process of trying to make Andy out to be the bad guy.

In the past, Andy has generally focused on how the “online rumor mill” or “pitchfork mob” is trying to destroy his life. A little over a year ago, he switched tactics, saying that CR fandom would be ruined for Meg if everyone didn’t back off and leave him alone. In other words, monitoring and reporting on Andy’s continued involvement with fandom was going to hurt his friend. (Meanwhile, other friends of his continued aggressively pushing the old narrative.) Now he’s claiming that pointing out his lies is harmful to the people he targeted, who have since cut him out of their lives!

He continued:

For whatever credibility I may have gained in honestly answering your questions this summer and in keeping our conversation private and keeping off social media, I give you my word that I honestly didn’t even click on that link.

Andy reminded Claire of how well-behaved he’d been--perhaps hoping that she’d forgotten how he sent Kyle a friend request days after the whole group cut off contact with him--and insisted that he didn’t actually watch the video that he retweeted. Okay. But my argument didn’t hang on whether he’d watched the video or not. The point, again, was that the tweet provided definitive proof that Andy was aware of Kyle and his show before he supposedly mistook him for a “trophy boyfriend”. It confirmed what I already had plenty of reason to suspect. Also, the date on that tweet wasn’t three months before he met everyone in LA, as Andy said; it was about seven weeks. Andy was kicked out of Molly’s house less than nine weeks after the tweet.

And unless you specifically invite it or our paths cross wholly coincidentally someday, that’s the last you’ll hear from me since the whole point is I DON’T want you afraid that I’m stalking you.

It was already evident that Andy wasn’t letting things go because he contacted Claire about my post in the first place. Here, he doubled down. Instead of just saying that he wouldn’t contact her again, he raised the possibility that she might want to reopen communication between them, or that they might “just happen” to run into each other. And he repeated that he didn’t want her to worry that he’s stalking her, when the circumstances in which he sent this message in the first place suggest otherwise. (Again, just noting the irony. I do not actually believe that Andy is stalking Claire or Kyle.)

Claire has read my post now because she googled it after receiving Andy’s message, but she hadn’t seen it before and certainly had not spent the last three months looking over her shoulder for Andy. As she put it:

This is unnerving for a few reasons - not only that he felt compelled to message me and defend himself on this matter (one which I wasn't even previously aware of), but that he sought out my fan page, the only medium on which I didn't have him blocked, and that he knew about your post to begin with, which shows that he still regularly checks the "awareness" blogs and/or googles his name, at least as recently as three months ago. I was honestly content to let Andy fade into the reliquary of "that happened," but reading this set me on edge. Although he says it's not intention in his very first sentence, why even message me if he isn't trying to re-establish some sort of contact?

Why, indeed.

Andy, just...stop it. While I don’t know Claire or any of her friends personally, I’ve talked enough with several of them to be aware that they’re not shy about confronting perceived threats to people they care about. If Claire had been afraid that you were stalking her, you would have heard about it and been told to back off. I think you know this perfectly well. Their actions upon finding out the truth about you last summer were a pretty big hint.

You need to respect people’s boundaries. If you have been told not to contact someone again, don’t fucking do it. Don’t look for any flimsy excuse to write to them. Don’t seek out avenues of communication that they’ve forgotten to close. Definitely don’t try to throw them off-balance with concern-trolling and manufactured empathy. Leave them alone. It’s that simple.

#andrewmblake #andythanfiction #andrew blake #andy blake #thanfiction #critical role #hiding in plain sight

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yasminsqueendom · 5 years ago

Text

Antique the Vamp Geek Pt1 Ep11

CW: The usual stress, anxiety and anger and crying, add a little complicated family dynamic and fear of starvation.

A/N: Tique’s family makes an uncomfortable appearance and she takes it the best she can...by panicking. But also coming up with a plan of what to do about it.

W/C: 1661

Hey y’all. I know it’s been a while since you heard from me. Life has been somewhat of whirlwind. I left off with all that crazy shit happening with my bitch ass roommate snitching on me. Thankfully, my other roommate is a saint sent directly from heaven. But anyway, back to the story……….

I woke up at some point the next day, showered and all that shit.

I am lucky enough to have my own private bathroom.

Anyways, I sat on my bed, and got stuck in my thoughts for a while. I eventually realized that something was bothering me about the day before, but I couldn’t remember what it was. So much of it was still a fog. Then, it hits me. MY FUCKING DAD CALLED ME. HE NEVER FUCKING CALLS ME!!!

I went scrambling to get my phone. And sure enough, there were 5 missed calls and voicemails. All of my panic from yesterday started bubbling up in my stomach. Had something happened to my little brother and sister? Did my mom finally decide to speak to me again? Did my father stop being a little…? Anyway, I started hyperventilating because I couldn’t figure out why he would call me, for any reason, at all.

I really can’t overstate how odd it is that my father would call me EVER.

At some point the night before, my roommate had passed out in her own room. I could hear her snoring a little through the wall. She doesn't snore loud, I can just hear extremely well. I focused on that sound for a moment. I wanted to wake her up and ask her to help me figure out what to do, but it wouldn't be a fair thing to ask.

I had to get my head together. I wouldn't know why he was calling until I listened to the voicemails. So that's what I did.

Vm1: “Antique, answer your phone. It's your dad. We need to talk.”

Vm2: “Antique I know you see these calls. You always on your phone. I know you see it so call me back.”

Vm3: “Antique, it's your mother. I know you hate me and think I'm a terrible person, but honestly you need to grow up and move on. We need to talk to you. It's important.”

Vm4: “Tique? It's me...Mom and Dad made me call. Um...are you ok? They said something is wrong with you. Are you sick?”

The bastards got my younger siblings involved with this. They have my baby sister scared, calling me about me being “sick”. I swear…

Smh. But that's not what hit me hardest.

Vm5: “Ummmm. Tique. I'm...so...sorry. I think this is all my fault. I heard your voice. One of my friends from school listens to your show. I'm so sorry.”

Well there it is. I was right about my brother knowing what I was. I know I mentioned it before during a q and a. Let me explain, I always text my brother and sister “ Night y'all.” But a few weeks ago, my brother's number started sending back the texts telling me that “block” feature was in use. And then, I couldn't see his social media anymore. The sudden isolation threw me off, so I called my little sister and she said that she was scared. She is 10 years old, so sudden changes in her life make her panic really bad. My brother (14) told her I had turned into a monster and I was going to eat her.

Let it sink in how fucked up that is…..

This little nigga has made my baby sister terrified of me. But she's a real one so she let me talk to her and calm her down. She was clearly uncomfortable with the growing conflict, but she was cool about it. I told her to put him on the phone.

This was our conversation:

“Hey, bro. What's going on? Why aren't you talking to me? Can I make things better between us?”

“No.”

“I'm sorry, man. I would like to hear from you. Are you sure I can't make it up to you. Just tell me what I did. I promise I'll try to explain.”

“I don't want to talk to you Tique. You aren't my sister anymore.”

And then he hung up. So yeah… The fucked up level is reaching critical for me.

So, back to the present moment. I already know that I am not going back to my family’s home. They could have me arrested or institutionalized. It's better to try to get this situation under my control. Or at least, deal with it on my terms.

I call them back.

Don't ask what came over me. I truly have no clue.

The phone barely had time to ring before my mom picks up.

“Antique, baby, is that you?”

Now I feel the need to emphasize the fact that my mother has never called me “baby.” She never showed affection. She seemed determined to be my enemy since I hit puberty.

“Um. Hey ma. Y'all called me?”

“Is that all you have to say? ‘''Um hey’ is the best you can do?”

“I don't want to fight Ma. Let's not. You said you wanted to talk to me?”

“I want you to come home.”

“I am home.”

“You know what I meant. Don't be disrespectful!”

“Ma I'm on the phone with you right now. Just tell me what you need to speak to me about, please.”

“I didn't raise this thing you've become, Ms. Grown-Ass. You never used to talk to me like this.”

“I lived with you back then. Listen, I don't want to do this right now.”

“No I decide what you're about to do!”

“......”

“Oh what you don't have anything to say now?”

“I'm going to hang up. I can't do this right now.”

“Don't you dare-”

I hung up. I wasn't interested in the bullshit anymore.

She called back, but I didn't answer. I needed to make sure I was as safe as possible. She still had access to my credit card and savings account, but when I found out I had been turned, I opened a checking account. I had been slowly putting my money there. I had to accept that a few hundred dollars were going to be a loss. Oh well.

I already had everything of value from my old room. My great grandmother had left a bracelet and ring to me. I took them when I left for college. Most of the shit in my room was bought for me by people that didn’t know me that well. I didn’t care about it at all.

I sat in the middle of my bed for a minute, trying to remember what else I needed to do. I already knew that the chance of me getting my birth certificate and social security card were slim now. My infection status changed everything. Suddenly, I wasn’t a separate person anymore. The government required that someone else manage all of my business. I needed to name someone. Fortunately, that someone didn’t have to be a family member.

The main issue was figuring out who would have my power of attorney? Bae or my roommate? But, I really didn’t want to have to choose anyone. Experience had taught me that trusting people was a bad thing, but the government didn’t care about my experiences.

I did the only logical thing: I googled “PoA Vamp Form,” printed it, and walked it into my roommates room. Since time was an issue, I didn’t have the opportunity to call Bae up and ask for them to show up after work. I needed this taken care of now. And, yeah I know online PoA’s are bullshit, but time was was running out, and I couldn’t afford an attorney.

After some nagging, and begging, and promises of food, I managed to get my roommate up and dressed. Using my phone’s GPS we found notary nearby and paid the fee to get a seal on our form.

Now, in the midst of all this, I ignored several more calls from my parents. They even tried my younger siblings numbers. But, as guilty as I felt, I needed to find a way to protect myself. I couldn’t do a damn thing for them until I had all my shit in order.

I needed to figure out a way to get the originals of my birth certificate and my social. I needed to close down my one credit card. Open up another in my name that my mother wouldn’t know about. Thankfully, I was over 18 so there was only so much my parents could do. It worked out in my favor that I was renting, and didn’t own anything worth going to court over.

The last issue was that they knew my address. They didn’t really help me move anything, but obviously I had to tell them where I was going. My mother showed up a few times to criticize how my place looked. No one else ever visited.

Outside of that, I couldn’t think of what else I could do. I knew that I needed to come up with a plan to get my documents. My mother had all our documents in a safe deposit box, and I knew where she kept the key. The only chance I had of getting that key was going home. And home was the last place I wanted to go.

There had to be a way for me to get in there. I knew my younger siblings’ schedules well enough. They always would be in the house before our parents would. I felt incredibly guilty about it, but I had to use my siblings to get access to what I needed.

So yeah, my life’s fucked up level is over 9,000 these days.

I’m tired.

Anyways, stay moisturized and hydrated.

Love Tique.

#black women #black fic #black fiction #black women in fiction #black vamps #vamps #vampires #vampire

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nardaviel · 6 years ago

Photo

Part 6 / ?, introducing seasons(!) and an exciting new supporting cast member(!!!).

Many images contained within. The tags have spoilers, if you care about that sort of thing and if it isn’t already too obvious to count as a spoiler.

Starting out strong again with a chance card from En, just like in the last post. En would definitely go with the experimental piece but it’s a bit nerve-wracking because he's going to be promoted today, I think, if he doesn't screw this up.

Never mind about the promotion, then. :c

Especially if he's going to be pissed off for the rest of his shift. Poor En-chan. I’m interested in Pig Nose Galaxy.

Congrats, Atsushi! Everyone’s money-earning skills are maxed now. :D Maybe this has something to do with the brilliant centerpieces he once again improvised at work.

Poor En. Rough day, I know.

He shouts some forbidden words to blow off steam. Everything seems a little easier to take after that. Nothing quite like screaming “FUCK! SHIT! COCKSUCKER!” in broad daylight in the middle of the street to cheer you up.

Atsushi is making that face because he's a pastry chef now! He lost one of his days off but he only works five hours a day now, so I guess it kind of evens out?

An uneventful day later, Kinshirou goes out to send a book to the publisher, but when he turns around... there he is.

So that night, Atsushi finally learns how to make those garlic decorations. Here are the wreaths! There are going to be braids indoors as well, in case a vampire ever breaks in. The boys aren’t 100% clear on how they work, except that Sims can't get eaten while there's garlic around. So the more garlic the better, as far as they’re concerned.

One of the saddest things (really the only sad thing besides the expense) about building a second story was that Hou-chan couldn't follow them into their bedrooms anymore. I'm glad she can climb stairs now that she's an adult kitty.

I got this far into the game, then took a long hiatus from TS4, during which time Seasons(!!!!!!!) came out. When I came back to the game, I decided I wanted to play around with the new gardening career and the changes to the gardening skill.

So guess who I made.

That's right. Their new neighbor has finally moved in.

Poor Ibushi, I made him a decent house (or the best house I could make with such an extremely tiny lot and limited budget) and then he could barely afford any furniture for it. No floor plan because I don't intend to spend much (or any?) more time in these posts following the Arima household. This is a Kinatsuen LP, after all. But we can take a look at his welcome wagon.

Ibushi: Ah, hello! Come in, don't mind the lack of furniture... En: *stares across the street at his own house* I could be asleep right now, but no.

Look at that grumpy face. Atsushi just dragged him out of bed ten minutes ago, didn't he. That’s why he’s not in the other screenshot. He was still getting dressed.

Kinshirou: Psst. Atchan. Atsushi: What is it? Kinshirou: There's barely any furniture in here. Atsushi: Shh! Don't be rude.

But the real reason Kinshirou is so uncomfortable is that Ibushi's sudden appearance makes the Veil series—in which the triad have a four-way romance with a guy named Ibushi Arima, who looks and behaves very much like this new neighbor—suddenly very strange and kind of creepy. Hopefully Ibushi isn't familiar with Kinshirou's work.

Atsushi has brought the fruitcake this time. He places it on the one surface in the entire house.

Ibushi thanks Kinshirou for coming very enthusiastically. (The shitty lighting, like the lack of furniture, is down to Ibushi's lack of cash. He has §3 right now.)

Ibushi: And can I say, it’s such an honor to meet you. I'm a big fan of your writing. Kinshirou: Ah... Thank you...

It was impossible to make a decent Ibushi Sim, though. As impossible as it is to take decent screenshots in this house with all these people here. I didn't think about that when I made it because I forgot about welcome wagons. But yeah, this is the best Ibushi I could get. He’s grown on me, though! I like him now. But I remember at first I was a little uncertain.

I ship it. Go sit on the bed with them, Atsushi.

Atsushi waited too long to make his move. En is disappointed too. That, or he's just jealous of Avery's fruitcake but he doesn’t want to get up to get his own.

What's up with Atsushi? Is he just pleased to see plants, or...?

Yep, he's just... talking to them. You have real humans you could talk to inside, sweetheart, but all right.

En: What are you doing out here all alone? Kinshirou: Are you talking to the plants? (Does he feel lonely? That’s the only time he talks to our plants...)

Just a reminder: I can’t control them right now. I’m playing Ibushi’s household. They autonomously came out here, one right after the other, to kiss Atsushi’s cheek...

...then to hug each other and congratulate each other on their good Atsushi-cheering teamwork.

Ibushi doesn’t have enough good things to say about Atsushi’s fruitcake.

Ibushi: One time when my grandmother fed us some fruitcake, it broke my cousin’s tooth, but yours was actually enjoyable. You have a real talent.

He follows up with what looks like a stressful attempt to tell an amusing story while Kinshirou passive-aggressively waters the plants. Look, Kinshirou, you're the one who arrived while he was in the middle of watering, okay. It’s your own fault he didn’t get it done.

En has wandered back in and now finds himself alone with their neighbor Avery. I wonder what’s going on with this interaction.

This is the face Kinshirou makes when he's listening very intently. Ibushi’s love of fruitcake must have caught his attention.

After the welcome wagon has wound down and everyone else has gone home, En remains, eating some of the last of Ibushi's non-fruitcake food. Thanks, En.

Ibushi hangs out with them all several times after this, but I usually don't bother with screencaps. Here's a short mostly-text recap of relevant or amusing happenings:

Ibushi sends Atsushi a happy text. Atsushi responds with something to the effect of "yeah isn't today great, let's hang out!!!" so they do, and Ibushi becomes friends with Atsushi before either of the others

Atsushi asks Ibushi if he wants to meet at the Spice Festival, Ibushi agrees because he was already at the Spice Festival anyway lmao

While they're there they spot En lurking by the curry contest wearing this

?????????????????????????????? Nice bracelets, En.

Ibushi chats with En online and befriends him also, making Kinshirou the last one he's not friends with? Weird

But almost as soon as he and En are friends, Kinshirou texts him asking him to go hang out in the park at 12:03am ... is he jealous ... it's especially suspicious because he takes Ibushi to the park that's mostly just a wedding venue. It starts raining as soon as they get there (Seasons!!!!!! best xpac) but they sit around in the rain anyway and become friends

"Incoming text message: En Yufuin. "Hey, I heard you became friends with Kinshirou Kusatsu! He's pretty cool!"" That is the most OOC thing the game has done so far

Atsushi invites Ibushi to the Romance Festival which is a little bit ??? until Ibushi goes and sees that En's come to sell paintings

Atsushi just wanted to bring his boyfriend more customers lmao. In any event, Ibushi splurges and buys both paintings. The diagram can make him focused which is good for gardening, and he just liked the doughnuts. I like how, when En goes out to sell his artwork, he brings a questionable mathematical diagram and a painting of sweets

So that's how things are going with the four of them, although I will say that by the time I start playing the Kinatsuen household, the inside of Ibushi’s house is looking much nicer and he's actually run out of space to put stuff. So don't worry about him, he's fine.

New with Seasons, a calendar that (among other things) tells me when everyone has a free day. Too bad I didn't have it when Enatsu were still struggling to go on a date.

Here's something troubling, though. The house is decorated that way (I think) because all the neighbors' houses get decorations relevant to the next holiday, and for a little while Kinatsuen were neighbors, not the active household. But they don't actually have the item that lets you add, remove, or change out decorations. So are they just going to be stuck with Halloween decorations forever...?

(No. Kinshirou will get them their box of decorations and insist on putting up seasonally appropriate decor.)

Also they need to get the gardening plants sorted out, now that most of them only grow in some seasons.

Look, I'm just really excited about the new glass roofs, okay. (Although why aren't there any white panes??? It looks so bad right now lol) I don't know why anyone would want to have a greenhouse on top of their bedroom but whatever, the game has HVAC now too. I just hope I don't forget the plants are there.

And now they finally have space (and money) for an observatory :D

I don't know what they're going to have beside the house where the plants were. Maybe that's where they'll make snowmen or whatever.

While Atsushi works and Kinshirou meditates, En explains the meaning of his newest painting to Hou-chan.

En: No, like, it’s abstract, right? So the fact that there’s no Loch Ness monster is the commentary on the Loch Ness monster. It could be anywhere, it could be nowhere. All you can see is the water.

For a while now, Atsushi has wanted to host a dinner party and cook for people. The arrival of their new neighbor (half a year ago since it’s now autumn but whatever okay) is a good opportunity.

As he gets started on a rack of lamb and En gets started on his dessert...

...Kinshirou introduces himself to Avery, even though they met earlier at Ibushi's welcome wagon, and possibly earlier than that at Kinatsuen’s own welcome wagon. Maybe Kinshirou doesn’t recognize him because he’s gotten old? I’ve done this too, forgetting you’ve already met someone. It’s super embarrassing.

It's a shame you have to invite 2+ guests to dinner parties tbh because I wanted it to just be the four of them. Ibushi looks pleased be here, at least.

They bought a stereo for ambiance during the party (i.e. it's part of one of the goals) but Hou-chan is terrified of it. :C

Looks like everyone’s pleased with the food.

And here’s a screenshot with just the important people, where their faces aren’t covered. What a nice dinner party. :D Good job, Atsushi!

screenshots that make you go hmmm

I would love to tell you what happened to En but I have, genuinely, no idea. I didn’t see it happen, there was no notif or informative moodlet afterwards... a mystery.

En and Atsushi are both asleep by the time the party's over because they're terrible hosts, so Kinshirou is the only one who gets to enjoy the confident moodlet they all got for their good party. It wasn't gold, but it was silver and that was all Atsushi needed for his cooking aspiration. So! Mission accomplished.

The next day is Halloween! I had to make it myself because it didn't come with the game. The holiday traditions are trick-or-treating, wearing costumes, telling stories, "spooky spirit", and decorating.

This is how I discovered that Sims can love or ignore traditions according to their personality traits. The more I play Seasons, the better it gets. En hates decorating and will not do it, but he likes wearing costumes... take that however you want. Meanwhile Kinshirou loves decorating (although the house was already decorated), he and Atsushi both love telling stories, and he ignores trick-or-treating because he's a snob <3

As soon as he wakes up, En gets in costume. It’s not a real premade outfit without a clippy hat!!

Kinshirou: What is that vulgar costume? I can't even look at it. En: Really? I thought you'd like it. It's from this porno where a guy—

Atsushi: En-chan, please, I'm not awake enough to play referee right now.

After breakfast En and Atsushi harass Kinshirou about costumes, until:

Atsushi: Kin-chan, your costume looks so good! En: Wow, yeah, it seriously does. Is that the supervillain costume? It’s a good look. Kinshirou: Ugh. These plebeian traditions...

Sims don’t work on Halloween, so Enatsu spend it telling each other spooky stories in costume.

Kinshirou, however, changes out of his costume as soon as possible and happily waters the plants.

Hou-chan is enjoying Halloween too!! As she deserves.

That evening, Atsushi handles the trick-or-treaters. He chooses to give treats to everyone so next year their house is going to be swarmed with kids, I suppose. The first time he does it, I have a minor freakout because it seems like it costs §75 to give a treat, but it turns out En has just spent §75 to start a medium-sized painting...

...which ends up being another impressionist masterpiece, and also, extremely cute.

Atsushi runs out back to burn this leaf pile behind their property that’s gotten gross, and that’s how I learn that adding spooky spirit to a holiday means lots of ghosts come out that night... so um.

Being the polite young man he is, he introduces himself. He’s terrified, poor thing.

Atsushi: Ah, yes, um, hello. Nice to meet you. I'm Atsushi. Ghost: I am Paolo. Atsushi: Paolo! Nice to meet you, Paolo. So um... what... brings you to these parts... eheheh...

This is honestly En’s new favorite place to sleep.

The next morning, they're all happy because of their awesome Halloween. Kinshirou decides to spend this wonderful morning up in the greenhouse researching Atsushi's plants, which are quickly becoming his plants.

The greenhouse which now has a white CC roof, thank god.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CONGRATS, EN

He didn't even need the good easel from the promotion reward lol. That was the only reason he was even working, if you’ve forgotten. To get that easel so he could finish his aspiration. But he's so close to getting it that it seems like a shame to have him quit now. One more promotion then you can quit, En!!

Oh, lord, what should his next aspiration be though. There's no ultimate procrastination advocate aspiration... I think he just wants to enjoy his success for a little while. No need to start on something else right away, right? He can just chill out for a bit.

Honestly, though, I was just trying to get him to make another playful doughnut painting like Ibushi bought, but instead he made a masterpiece-quality playful painting that's in all other respects exactly the same as the playful painting we already had.

Can you tell the difference? No? I'll tell you the difference: The difference is, the painting on the top is a masterpiece that is worth §2,000 more and emits much more playful vibes than the identical painting on the bottom.

Meanwhile, Kin-chan has learned how to comfort himself with plants when he's lonely, even though there’s a cat right next to him.

And Atsushi is happily drinking tea that he believes to be “healthy green” tea. For once, En is the only Sim who has it together.

On the other hand, Kinshirou really is far and away the biggest earner in the household. Jeez. That's §4,621 right there. For comparison, that masterpiece of En's was his most expensive ever at about §2,300, and I almost never sell his masterpieces anyway because I feel bad about it. Atsushi brings in a little more than §500 a day.

En painted a second masterpiece in a row. He's so talented. :D That's a strange choice of subject for a flirty painting, though, since they're all dudes.

In the spirit of letting En have a chill time now that his aspiration is done, I downloaded a custom aspiration for him that's just about fulfilling whims. His life goal right now is to do whatever he feels like at any given moment. Very En, I think. Also I never pay attention to whims, so maybe this will get me to start.

Ibushi invites En over to hang out and En brings Kinshirou with him. A fun, relaxing afternoon at a friend’s.

...is what they think but then they arrive to find Ibushi literally freezing to death outside his home. It’s so cold out wtf why isn’t he wearing his cold weather clothes??

Everyone else is in their cold weather outfits! Why are you just standing around in short sleeves, Ibushi!!! God.

Despite the fact that he is near death, En has to practically drag him indoors and turn on the heat for him.

Ibushi: So cold :c En: Hey, here's an idea. Ibushi: Mm? En: Why don't you change into some warm clothes? You know, since it's freezing cold out?

Ibushi: Oh. You mean like this? En: ...yeah. Nice sweater.

Ibushi: *sensing sarcasm* Thank you. It's a shame I can't say the same about yours.

It’s at this moment, watching Ibushi, that I learned that uncomfortable Sims' lips tremble like they're about to start crying. He looks so sad and pathetic that I feel kind of bad, but like... honestly why didn't he just put on a sweater.

Here’s Woody Arima, the puppy Ibushi adopted. An aggressive little bby who barks all the time, but he's very loyal! And Ibushi was charmed by how he tries to be all fierce when he's so tiny. He’s a bit dirty now but don’t worry about that, it’ll be taken care of.

Apparently, Kinshirou is the type of guy who comes over to your house and then spends the whole time on your computer, chatting with other people.

En: Hahaha, that's hilari... huh? Kinshirou, where are you going? Kinshirou: I'm bathing your puppy, Ibushi. He's filthy. Ibushi: Oh, you don't need to— En: No, let him do it. Cleaning things makes him happy.

Presented without comment.

And then...

En: You're a good guy, you know? A good friend. Ibushi: You are too, I suppose. Despite the state of your winter clothes. En: Yeah, okay, whatever. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, I don't think I have a better friend than you. Ibushi: Yes, I... feel the same way, En. En: ...You know what we have to do now? Ibushi: I believe so.

So now En and Ibushi are BFFs.

(I know this is a bit odd but my logic goes like this: Only one Kinatsuen couple can be BFFs since you can't have more than one, Kinshirou has to be married to his BFF for his aspiration so he has to be half of the BFF couple, and Kinatsu is a much more likely BFF duo than Enkin. So I'm glad En has someone to be best friends with now. Even if the lighting in these screenshots still makes me sigh sadly.)

Upstairs, Kinshirou is having a fun time doing his favorite activity: cleaning.

Clean doggo. The true Woody!

En chats with his new BFF a little more before he and Kinshirou have to head home to see Atsushi. In the background, all Ibushi’s plants are growing happily. I told you his house got less depressing.

When they get back, En plays in a leaf pile behind the house. What else are leaf piles for if not to play in, right??? We’ll get an answer to that later on in the post actually. In the background, Atsushi trots around being responsible and burning old piles that have started to rot.

Is this what fulfilling whims does for Sims? I should be doing it all the time. He’s so happy.

Atsushi: *singing under his breath* Cool guys don’t look at explosions... they blow things up and then walk away...

Lmao he won't go up to the door anymore. He just stands awkwardly at the top of the front steps for a while and then leaves.

A rare cutaway walls screenshot to show Kinshirou and En not even sharing a bed but sleeping in each other’s beds. (Also, yes, they leave the bathroom light on at night.)

Zundar begins to show his true colors. Although who detected these trace signatures of radiation, exactly?

Uh-oh. Is this his response to Kinshirou's biography of him? An autobiography written under a pseudonym?? Two different narratives competing for the public's attention???

While En and Atsushi are at work, Kinshirou and Hou-chan bond and become companions. :D He’s not concerned about your autobiography, Zundar.

A true modern relationship: Complaining about work to your gay boyfriend while he cranes his neck to look at you from his adjacent computer desk.

Atsushi curls his lip in contempt. He must have had a real bad day. Maybe he just needs to wear his glasses to work?

I am not gonna lie, he looks really, really attractive here.

Atsushi: You know what, Kin-chan? I'm sick of coming home every day with a headache. I'm wearing my glasses to work and if my boss doesn't like it, I'll talk to HR.

I can't believe it took me this long to google "how to edit someones work outfit in sims 4". God.

In fact, changing out of his work clothes altogether and meditating seems like a good plan right now.

He did it! That’s the easel! Congrats, En, now you can quit your job! That is a huge pay raise, though, it almost seems like a shame...

But look at that sulky face. He just wants to be done.

He and Atsushi both came home really wanting a vacation. Is it getting to be that time again...? I've been kind of wanting to send someone to Selvadorada. If Atsushi starts constantly getting the moodlet, maybe I'll think about it.

But before En quits his job, he has a plan.

En: Hello? Hi, it's Yufuin. Sorry about this, a last-minute thing came up and I'm going to need to take all my paid time off starting tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow. Thanks.

The new easel for which he toiled so long. His first two paintings on it are masterpieces :D

Other Sims just have whims about playing in leaves and stuff during autumn, but Kinshirou daydreams about doing chores. Who am I to deny him?

Oh, no... Hou-chan is scared of their nice cozy fireplace too...

Atsushi: Hey, hey, it's all right, Hou-chan. It won't hurt you.

En: Hey, welcome back. You worked hard out there, huh?

En: How about claiming your reward? ;) Kinshirou: What? En: ;))) Kinshirou: ...Ah.

Kinshirou: Very well.

Kinshirou: This is absurd. You come up with the most ridiculous ideas. En: You say that like you don't like it, but you’re smiling at me.

En: Now come on. Kinshirou: So abruptly—!

En: Yeah.

This is my new favorite WooHoo location. It’s a shame it’s only available during fall.

Kinshirou: Ah, you have a leaf on you. En: Oh, thanks. Kinshirou: Of course, you might not be so disheveled if you hadn’t rolled us around so much... En: Oh, really? Should I do it less next time then? Kinshirou: ... En: That’s what I thought.

Atsushi is having a nice time in front of the fire watching a cooking show, oblivious to the debauchery taking place on his own front lawn.

Kinshirou: ...and now the leaves are scattered around the yard again. Perhaps I should have predicted that. I suppose I should get them back in order. En: You really don't have to, you know. No one's going to care if you wait until morning. Kinshirou: I will care. En: Well, I'm going to sleep. Come find me when you're done. Kinshirou: ...I'll spend the night with Atchan.

How are those wedding plans coming along? Since Kinshirou probably won’t let him sleep all day, what is En even going to do with all his new free time? When will they move out, and what will happen to their neighborly relationship with Ibushi when they do? Are they actually going to go to Selvadorada? I can’t guarantee that most of those questions will be answered soon but I can promise that the next part will include, among other things, such delights(?) as Pretty Boy Day and En doing yoga.

#boueibu #kinatsuen #kinshirou kusatsu #atsushi kinugawa #en yufuin #my post #sims 4 kinatsuen #ibushi arima #thats the spoilery tag #but who else would i go to the trouble of making and playing #so not much of a spoiler honestly #part 7 will be a little shorter than this #then ill be caught up for the first time ... possibly ever #assuming i dont play more before i post part 7 rip

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savefarris124-blog · 6 years ago

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Love Me Tinder

Words To Live By: “I just wish I could start a relationship 12 years in. When you really don’t have to try anymore and you can just sit around and goof on TV shows and then go to bed without anybody trying any funny business”--Liz Lemon (Tina Fey), 30 Rock.

Reader, I have an embarrassing confession to make: I am over the age of 30 and still single. You might think this isn’t terribly shocking as far as secrets go. Once upon a time I may have agreed with you. That was before older people started constantly asking me, “When are you getting married?”

I grew up watching a healthy dose of NBC’s Must-See TV, featuring such gems as Suddenly Susan and Just Shoot Me. These two shows featured 30-something women trying to balance a crazy career while possibly looking for love. The premise may seem clichéd now but in 1998 it was…also clichéd. Still these shows were great for background noise, and they infused me with the subversive notion that somehow a 30-year-old woman could walk into a room and nobody would be offended by her lack of husband.

I will confess that questions about my marital status bother me. Naturally I should be bothered on feminist principle and all that jazz, and I am. I am also bothered because I honestly do wish to fall hopelessly, sickeningly in love and share a life of adventures with somebody who sees me as I am. We would know each other’s strengths and weaknesses, push each other to become the best versions of ourselves, and laugh at jokes only we can understand.

Most people go about finding love by dating, but my dating history is spotty at best. I could go into details both depressing and/or absurd but here is the rundown of my greatest hits:

I needed to break out of this cycle. I had tried online dating a little in the past, but this time I decided to dive deep. After all, if the internet could bring a custom-made Scarlet Witch headpiece right to my door why not a boyfriend? I set out on an epic quest to become a Tinderella. And guess what? I’m engaged!

Just kidding; I burnt out after six weeks of extreme dating. During this period I went out with four guys, which for me is the equivalent of trying to run the Boston marathon when your warm-up routine has been a coma. Still I learned some valuable lessons. Learn from my mistakes, readers, and godspeed.

DO: Choose a Good Profile Picture

One of the reasons I dragged my feet on joining Tinder is that I hate every photo of me ever taken. I therefore avoid cameras at all cost. “What am I doing?” I ask myself as I dodge behind the nearest potted plant. “How will I remember that I have a fun, enviable life?” I then leap out in front of the camera, contort my body into an unnatural posture never used in real life, and smile. My reward is yet another awkward photo of myself that I will destroy immediately. Wash, rinse, repeat for the next ten years.

Because the only way to get better at something is practice, I spent my summer learning the art of complete narcissism. Going to a play? Let me take a selfie. Someone’s having a party? Selfie time. Spending a relaxing day inside to avoid the heat? Selfie marathon! I took enough selfies to burn through my phone’s memory. One of my best friends got married in October and I used the opportunity of professional hair and make-up to snap roughly 800 pictures of myself and maybe two of the bride for good measure. This strategy worked though, because I now have a whole six of photos of myself I can show with pride neutrality.

This photo obsession may seem like overkill, but online dating profiles have no context. The bio section is short, and half the time people don’t fill it out. Therefore if a guy doesn’t smile in his photos I assume he doesn’t have a sense of humor. If he takes a shirtless pic in a place where he shouldn’t be shirtless I assume he is a douchebag. If he refuses to post any photos with his face I assume he will murder me, and nobody has time to deal with that.

DO: Fill Out the Bio

Just take 5 minutes. Give me something. This is a system set up for convenience; I don’t want to dig. Also saying, “Just ask” doesn’t count. You are not mysterious, or rebellious, or beyond labels. You are lazy. I, too, am lazy, so I understand the impulse, but one of us has to put in the effort so it may as well be you.

DO: Play It Safe

Tell your friends whenever you are going out with someone new. Not only is it useful in case they need to file a police report, but also fun. The highlight of meeting so many new people was brainstorming safety code phrases with my gal pals. One friend insisted on the word “Pikachu.” I can’t remember if that meant I was safe or in trouble; it doesn’t matter. From “banana hammock” to “crazytown” to “vanilla gorilla” anything works for this purpose. Granted if a guy sees you get or send a text during the date, odds are he knows the score but a code word gives you at least some sort of deniability. That way in case he grabs the phone out of your hand like a psycho you can claim it’s just an inside joke, and oh my God, what the Hell has dating come to in the 21st century?

DON’T: Set Your Expectations High

“The love of my life may be just a swipe away,” I told myself when I signed up for Tinder. This is technically true, but you know who else is just a swipe away? Every other guy in this city. The beauty of Tinder is that you can see just how much is out there. The downside is that most of it is hot garbage.

I don’t want to just rag on Tinder, though I could. They have a filter for age, a filter for distance, but they don’t let me set a filter for douchebags (again, those guys who think I’m impressed by their refusal to let shirts dampen the glory of their doughy physiques). However at least Tinder respects my filters.

On the advice of a friend I also tried Coffee Meets Bagel, the site where she met her current boyfriend. While CMB seemed a bit more promising at first with its “select picks” it is rapidly disappointing me. I am 32 right now, and a very different person from when I was in my 20s. I told CMB I only wanted to date guys over the age of 30, but 75% of my picks are 29 or under. One time they selected a 28-year-old man for me that was clearly in his 50s. Between his gray goatee and his paunch he looked like Santa Claus with a mid-life crisis. Is that a fluke? Doubtful. Today the same thing happened, except this guy’s alternate pictures are all of Jesus. I think I’ll pass.

DON’T: Ignore Yellow Flags

Sure we all can recognize red flags when we see them, but what about yellow flags? I ended up falling hard for a guy who was funny and introspective. He loved to sing and act goofy, and being around him made brought out the light-hearted dreamer in me. He also ended up being a massive jerkwad.

He would schedule every date to be at or around his place. This part I was sort of okay with because I don’t want near-strangers knowing where I live, but it did mean I did all the driving. He tried to reschedule our first date so he could hang out with his friends that night, and did reschedule our second date. On said second date he had his phone out during dinner so he could play a Ghostbusters game. In my head half of me would say, “Whatever, we don’t know each other that well, plus you know he has ADHD. Nothing like being a high-maintenance bitch to drive men away.” The other half would say, “You came all this way, battled for downtown parking, worked your ass off to look cute for this date, let it be rescheduled, and he can’t even set his phone down for one minute? WTF?”

Yet somehow this guy emerged as the leader of the pack despite the fact that if I made a list of “Guys Who Displayed Basic Consideration For My Time” he would rank 3 out of 4. What can I say, the heart wants what it wants, and also I have terrible self-esteem and judgment. It came as a shock to absolutely no one that after our third and final date he sent me this text message:

Hmm, yes, “exhausting.” This was technically true, because I was exhausted. On the evening of our last date I bolted out of work at 5:00, drove home, took a shower, shaved my legs despite being on my period and knowing there would be no shenanigans that night, picked out an outfit, got dressed, decided that my outfit was too sexy for a night free of said shenanigans (I’m not cruel), put on a different outfit, looked around for my steampunk earrings because he mentioned he loved steampunk, did my make-up, and drove downtown to hang at his place at 7:00.

He got out of work late, fit in a workout, took a shower, and ordered pizza. Poor baby. Poor me. I had thought of calling him on this BS multiple times but refrained because I didn’t want to scare him off. Now here we were a month later, him running away anyway and me peeved I had invested so much effort into a guy when I had seen from the start he wouldn’t do the same.

So here I am now, licking my wounds from this latest foray into dating. I won’t give up completely, but I have learned that I’m the kind of person that needs to take things slow. If that means I only date one person at a time, then I’m going to make damn sure that person is worth it. Will I go back to online dating? Maybe, although now when I check out Tinder or CMB instead of seeing possibilities all I see is a vast wasteland of strangers staring back at me. I’ll try again in the new year, but for now I’m back to my previous dating strategy of hoping to get hit on the head and ending up with a special kind of amnesia where I get transported into my favorite TV universes to romance the hot male leads. Sure Peter Stone has issues but at least he won’t constantly reschedule our steady date night on Thursdays at 9:00.

#blog #words to live by #dating #tinder

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unproduciblesmackdown · 7 years ago

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tfw hating life enough for a reeadmooore

‪yesterday afternoon i’d blocked out 3 pgs in my sketchbook & by that night i was thinking like well i’m so close to finished the sketchbook finally (ive been using it about a yr and a half by now) that i could just stop drawing when i hit the end there‬

but i’d mentioned the impending end of my sketchbook space a friend is already in the process of sending over some they havent ever used so that will at least mean if i stop drawing it’ll just have to be because i want to lol

like in this case it’s special b/c of course i’ve had periods where i’m like smh what if i just don’t draw anymore, but that’s tended to be about being frustrated w some element or other of it all. this time it was mostly just that every day of my life i have a tiny bit less motivation or energy or etc. yesterday i was thinking all day about offing myself, which i’d done the day before, and done today too

like, it’s nothing new, i’ve been hating being alive and wanting to kms and only moving in the direction of less disappointment to more disappointment and having to care less about things i previously cared about because for one reason or another things get to a point where it only adds frustration to my life anymore

but despite depression and wanting to die and life being miserble all being Not New, that doesn’t mean that it doesnt matter anymore, because after day after day after day after day after day of it for years and years, you’re in a worse place than you were a while back, even if you do feel the same. even a single day of wishing you were dead the whole time is shitty enough. feeling overall like even if you’re in a good mood now, you know your life is trash and you’re going to go back to feeling bad soon, is also shitty enough

like the thing that drawing had going for me is that, like reading and writing sometimes and even some other shit, it’s something i like to do. i do it for myself, really. but it helps that its the way i trick ppl into being here in the first place to see anything i’m talking about. i have really crap appeal. i mean i’m bad at being appealing thru shit i draw, but it’s still way more of something anybody wants vs like five yrs worth of my text posts. like...i have over 10x more followers than i did on a blog where i rarely drew anything ever

but anyways despite me drawing b/c i enjoy it, i enjoy enjoying things less. always in the middle of that “loss of interest in pleasure” life lol.......it doesn’t really matter how long i do or don’t keep drawing, b/c i mean, it doesn’t much matter to me whether i’m having fun or not. i can be enjoying drawing and still wanting to die, because that’s whats happening lol.....nothing that’s a personal factor of my life is all that important to me, because my personal existence is not that important to the person living it

also it sure hasnt helped that my sense of things like whether my life can get better or i’ll have the opportunity to pursue my nonexistent dreams or live an ideal version of my life that also doesn’t exist are all at all-time lows and only just getting lower day by week by month by year. the only way i can even look at cheering myself up is from a day-to-day perspective. and i can have a slightly more fun day than usual and then be extra down on the very next day b/c of how being a bit less numb means you’re crap-feeling emotions are now game too. and i’m very aware of how, if you’re not in a position that insulates you enough, if things get worse for you, that makes “things getting worse for you” more likely, and it’s an exponential drop that gets harder and harder to climb out of, and even if you move back up a notch out of good luck, you’re still just as likely to be knocked back down to where you were. the odds of me suddenly not only not fucking hating being alive but also having a life that doesnt fucking make me hate being alive? that’s a funny joke

‪also it’s frustrating that whether i feel good or miserable on any given day only really exists if i say something about it in a post like this lol... like i might feel awful one day but if i dont have it in me to spend ages writing about it, which is difficult also b/c putting feelings into words where ppl will only fully Get It if they’ve felt that way too, anyways if i dont write about how shitty i feel and post it then maybe later on when i’m feeling a little better or feeling a different kind of shitty, i also won’t be interested in being like “oh btw i felt awful the other day.” and if i don’t mention it, as far as everyone in the world knows, it was never a thing that happened, so it might as well not have. i mean, as a person i might as well not be happening, especially since i don’t want me to be happening lol‬

and like i was saying to someone the other day, its a lot harder via text to talk about shit b/c like, if you’re with a friend in person, you can talk abt boring or silly things and its easy and makes a good conversation. whereas talking via twitter means it would be clunky and time consuming to layout exactly had empty and depressing my existence is, and silly shit isn’t even worth the energy when you’re having a convo w lengthy gaps in it, so you can only really talk about the broadest, most interesting shit. which i don’t have much of, oh well

i do like talking and talking to people actually, it’s just rough when it’s all a few ppl online, even though i alsp extremely appreciate those people and enjoy the talking. it’s like, chatting to ppl online is like a piece of chocolate cake. it’s delicious and you love it, but it would be amazing if it was the extra bonus on top of getting solid meals every day, instead of it being the only thing you have to eat and you get it maybe once or twice a week and it’s still wonderful and is all the more valuable for it, but it isnt the same as getting enough to eat always, or Knowing you’ll keep getting enough to eat

anyways my social life is always its own special kind of depressing, even when i AM in the same place as friends. you’d have a hard time finding a situation where the concept of What I Have To Say seems interesting or even relevant to other ppl. and im not sure i’ve ever been in groups where i feel totally comfortable with everyone there and don’t feel out of place. so talking about the idea of knowing you always have access to someone to talk to or be with in person or having friends who you know you can hang out with and they actually like you and you still expect to have them a few yrs down the road—all that’s always been a “well, in theory i mean” or “at least, i imagine it would be like that” issue for me

tbh i generally feel the most comfortable enjoying myself when i do something alone; maybe it’s because i have more experience of ppl im around treating me really shittily than treating me well

ohhhhhh wellllllllllllllll what else do i have to talk about. hmmm the fact that feeling like i wanna die only seems to be regarded as an issue of “well are you gonna or not,” aka if you havent its a Victory and a happy situation instead of it being a matter of EVERY DAY I’M A CONSCIOUS ORGANISM I WISH I WAS DEAD AND MY EXISTENCE HAS BEEN HEADED IN THAT DIRECTION FOR AT LEAST THE LAST HALF OF IT

like how heartwarming that i’ve been actively suicidal for how many years? 6? 8? but i havent yet!! i always want to but just never get around to it and so this time for sure lol no more fooling around!! oh dammit and there goes another birthday still alive. like this is some elusive new years resolution or novel i mean to write.

funny i mention it because there’s practically nothing anymore that i want to do. even if i THOUGHT my life would ever become okay, i want fuckall out of it. i only exist, baby............and it’s like i said earlier, whenever i try to come up with a sad amount of potential motivations NOT to die, i have to realize that none of the shit is actually for me, or directly about me, or centered on me. like, this shit lost its charm ages ago.

well anyways. i suppose thats all i can think to say now. and it doesn’t make a difference whether i talk about my shitass existence and how crap i feel or not. it just gives the chance for a bit of it to exist in the world via a few other ppl being aware of it for a few minutes maybe, because who DOESNT want to thoroughly read a shit essay by some random weirdo about how everything sucks. the end

#i was innovative and typed this in twitter dark mode so my phone could have a break from me embedding the keyboard in the screen #anyways i wanna dye 😂😂😂

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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1014

What snack food could you not live without? I feel like “can’t live without” is pushing it too far, but Pringles is my favorite and I imagine I’d be pretty miserable if they hypothetically suddenly disappear or stop production. Can never get enough of those.

What/where is your favorite restaurant? And what do they specialize in? Yabu. It’s Japanese, but they mainly specialize in katsu so they don’t have sushi or ramen or sukiyaki or other types of Japanese food. I haven’t had my usual since February or March, so I can’t waaaait until I can finally order for myself.

How do you waste time when you are procrastinating? Looking for anything I can watch on YouTube. Once I’ve found a video it usually is able to send me into a black hole of other videos, so it’s been quite the effective way to avoid tasks or things I’m worrying about.

Do you follow any celebrities on social media? Who? I don’t, honestly. I never understood it about myself lol; I’m fascinated by a number of celebrities but the idea of being constantly updated about their personal lives just never seemed appealing to me. I guess I just like them for what they do and the celebrity that comes with it. The only one I follow on Twitter is Hayley Williams.

Who do you admire for what they have accomplished? Probably Arlan. Dude had like 10 orgs while in college, was in the college student council, and he got accepted to Columbia’s graduate program for journalism for the next school year. Idek how he even finds the time to sleep.

Would you like if you never had to work again? Lately I’ve been learning about myself that work gives me a sense of purpose, so even if I was offered all the money in the world, I’d take it but I would still want to work (assuming I’m in a job I like and care about). I never want to go back to how shitty I felt in September when I was neither studying nor working.

Are you a big sports fan? What team and sports? I like watching basketball and volleyball games, but only the ones played in our local university league – that said, I obviously root for my school lol. I like pro wrestling too, but they don’t work in teams.

Do you believe in following your dreams? Yes, but the way there is vastly different for everyone in that some people may have the connections and resources early on, while some will have to work and claw a little harder. The playing field isn’t always level, unfortunately.

Do you like to play board games? They’re fine, but I typically prefer to watch from the sidelines mostly because I’m terrible at following instructions and retaining them in my head as I play.

What were your favorites games as a kid? Does it have to be board games? I played outside way more often and my favorites were patintero, 10-20, and a game we called ‘ice ice water,’ which is really just freeze tag. I also liked pick-up sticks.

Would you like to be a “stay at home” mom or dad? I dunno if I would enjoy that, honestly. Like I said, I like the idea of working as it makes me feel productive...but who knows? I’m only 22, literally a fresh graduate, I don’t have kids, and it’s a long way before I can possibly become a mom. But my priorities could always change; I could wind up being a mom who is content with being a housewife. I really have no clue, and I’ll never know until I get there.

How are your “direction skills” when you are driving? Yeah, they’re nonexistent. I need Waze all the time if I’m the one driving, even if it’s going to a place I routinely travel to.

Do you need to be in charge or are you happy to let someone else take charge? It depends on how confident or familiar I am with the task at hand. I can handle being either a leader or a follower; but I do think that, for all tasks I’m involved in, I do like to help call the shots and decide on things on some level, no matter how little it is. I never just follow, if that makes sense.

Would you rather “talk it out” or “let it go” and hope it’s forgotten about? Talk it out. Communication is really important to me.

What celebrity have others told you that you look like? Anna Akana and Lucy Hale.

Do you like to dance? What kind do you enjoy the most? Only either when I’m alone or have had a lot to drink. I don’t actually know any types of dance.

Do you feel anxious right now? Eh, not really. I’m a little sad, but getting out of bed to sit at my desk has slightly fixed that for the meantime.

Do you like to eat breakfast for dinner? What are your faves? Sometimes my dad will make breakfast food for dinner, yeah. I’m never enthusiastic about it lol, but I don’t complain.

Do you feel like you will ever have enough money to make you happy? Sure, I think so. I know I definitely don’t want to end up being extremely selfish about money.

What is more appealing to you: a pub crawl or a wine tasting? Pub crawl, for sure. I hate wine anyway.

What classes or courses would you take to learn more about? International relations, biology, and anthropology.

Would you ever get a tattoo? What kind would you get? Idk if I would ever get one, but one of my ideas is to have Paramore’s lyrics “For all the joy that is to come / Just let the pain remind you hearts can heal” on my wrist, kinda like as a reminder that there are brighter days ahead. That’s not the correct sequence of lyrics, but combining those lines together was what spoke to me the most.

How much time do you spend working out a week? (you can fib a little) I don’t work out.

Do you dress up for Halloween? What was your best costume? Only if my friends have something planned. I’ve mentioned this several times lately but my personal favorite costume was going as my old best friend, Sofie. It was so low-effort but everyone understood who I was and had a kick out of it.

How often do you like to shop online? I never really did it regularly before since I had been on a tight allowance throughout college, but now that I’m earning on my own I could see myself ordering stuff online 1-2 times a month.

Have you ever spent time “online dating?” No. I had Tinder before, but just to people-watch. Still not interested in it now.

Do you ever hang out with your parents? How about your siblings? No. We don’t do one-on-one bonding; we’re all emotionally unequipped for that lol. I hate that I missed out on family things like that; and my future kid/s is/are definitely getting a lot of solo dates with me.

What is the number one way that you like to spend your time? Probably going on YouTube. There’s always something to watch over there.

Is it easy or hard for you to be lazy all day? Easy for the most part, but if I know I have work to do I also like getting my ass up to wrap that up as quickly as I can.

How similar are you to your zodiac sign characteristics? Based on what’s been shoved down my throat from social media, Tauruses love their food, hold grudges, are fiercely loyal, resistant to change, and annoyingly stubborn. Those things are all me.

What are you addicted to? I don’t have any addictions.

What is the last song that you saved to your playlist? Haven’t been using my playlists lately.

If you could listen to only one artist, who would that be? Paramore.

Who would you like to be president right now? We have a dictator of a president at the moment and the list of potential candidates for 2022 isn’t looking too great either, so...who the fuck knows. I’m hoping someone capable – and someone preferably younger – steps up to take the challenge before 2022. I look forward to the day we take to the streets to celebrate the same way America did today.

Were you popular in school? I mean in high school I was kinda on the radar, but I still liked staying at the sides and let my more popular friends take the spotlight. Besides, I was already linked with Gabie and I didn’t want teachers and staff to be on our asses.

What is your favorite place that you have ever visited? Locally, Sagada. Outside of the country, probably Shanghai.

What places do you want to travel to before you get too old? Ideally I’d want to travel to as many countries as I can, to be honest. Doesn’t matter where. But if I can only afford to do so a handful of times, I’d spend that money on Morocco, India, Thailand, Egypt, South Korea, Iceland, Peru, and Spain (and then maybe go on a European road trip from there).

What is the perfect work schedule that you would love? I’m happy with my current 9-6 shift.

What was the best party that you have ever been to? Rita’s sister’s org’s Halloween party from last year.

Did school come easy for you or was it hard? High school was easy, but I purposely didn’t put much effort into it. I didn’t see the point, considering a) teachers have their established favorite students early on and I knew I wasn’t one of them and no matter how well I did I knew I wasn’t going to get recognized, and b) workplaces could not care less about your high school record. College was also easy, and I found balancing my academics, org life, and social life to be fun and fulfilling.

What language do you enjoy listening to? English or Filipino.

Would you take the time to learn a new language? Sure. I’ve done that with Spanish and Korean before.

If you had a personal assistant, what would you have them do? Make them do the phone calls whenever I would have to at work.

Who is the funniest person that you know? I have several people in mind, honestly - Andi, Kate, Jum, Aya, JM, Hans.

Who is the worst pain in the ass that you know? My mom. Sometimes Cooper.

Whose life do you look to as a “model” of what you would like yours to ultimately look like? Anna, one of the moms from the Korean reality show I watch. Her amazing attitude towards life, her parenting skills, cooking skills, aesthetic, and overall life is all I want.

How much money do you save from your paycheck? I have no idea how to budget yet. AAAHHHHHHHHH

Which is a stronger emotion, fear or joy? I think both can be felt strongly.

What types of people do you follow on social media? Athletes, Influencers? Mostly irl people. The only famous people I follow are AJ Mendez (though she’ll always be AJ Lee to me) and Hayley, like I said. OH WAIT I also follow the entire GMM crew! Idk why I missed that.

Would you ever like to work remotely and travel? That’d be nice, sure.

When were you the poorest that you have ever been? Quarantine.

#survey #surveys

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godzillamendoza · 7 years ago

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Leaving Behind 2017 - Relationships are haaaarrrrdddd

So much to some people’s surprise I’m sure, I’ve been with a couple girls this past year. Like real ones, not those ones that holographically project themselves over prostitutes that you can install in your ceiling. (does anyone get that joke? No one saw that movie but me, right?) Ah jeez.

Gotta learn to quit automatically deflecting with humor when something stressful comes up. Gahh! This is a healing/learning experience.

Okay, so context is important. I know all of this is stuff from before 2017, but it leads into how this year went so its important to cover: in 2015 I had my first girlfriend, whom I shall not refer to by name. She and I dated on and off for about 5 months and it was the first real relationship I had been in. We started dating after I told her no 2 times. The third time she asked me to be her boyfriend, her friend was there and they sort of pressured me into it so I just went with it. Then I had my first kiss with a crowd of her friends standing around me, watching to make sure I followed through on the day after. The majority of our conversations were through text or skype, even though we went to the same school. She was just too busy to ever hang out with me outside of school. She was often jealous of me talking to other girls, she mocked me constantly and called all my hobbies “nerd shit” and rolled her eyes at me when I said I didn’t want to smoke weed with her. Then she told me she’d be hanging out with a guy named Patrick at her house after she met him over snapchat. I was obviously a little worried about it and she told me I was being controlling and needed to back off, so I did. Then a week later I tracked down Patrick and confronted him, asking why she was suddenly so cold and distant. He bragged to me about how good of a time they had together and how she complained about me constantly. He said the sentence “she’ll be mine by the end of the week.” Being cheated on by your first girlfriend in addition to some emotional abuse and being kept at a distance constantly... well all of it is like a perfect storm of PROBLEMS that you’ll have to deal with later. We broke up after I told her that I knew what they did, though it was like 2 weeks later because I was naive and forgiving at first. She’s dated around 5-7 people since that venture ended 2 years ago, so clearly she learned a lot from it. She also offered to go out with my again while she was dating another guy, which caused me to... well let’s just say I wrote a very long, very mean spirited message that I don’t regret.

Naturally, after all that, my self esteem was subterranean. I had a lot of image problems due to her comments on my appearance. I had severe trust issues with... well pretty much everyone. I had problems liking myself and I just needed outlets to focus on while I was lost. So I started making more videos on comic book stuff. While I was dating this girl I made a short video essay/editorial thing on my thoughts for casting Spider-Man in the Marvel cinematic universe. She was quick to dismiss it, but I felt like it was the first thing on YT that I was truly proud of and I wanted to make more. After we broke up I did that video about Spider-Man videogames you might have seen once or twice. It currently has over 400 THOUSAND views. I owe it to this girl I suppose, she made me so miserable that I accidentally became a z-list internet celebrity to take my mind off being miserable. It didn’t exactly fix my emotional issues, but it was a coping method that was better than becoming a meth addict or something.

--so on to 2017. This was the year where I started dating again. Obviously I would still have a lot of baggage after that first girl and everything that happened with her. I met a rather mousy girl in high school who I’ll refer to as... uh... how about Sandra? That’s extremely far off from her real name. Sandra. Well anyway, I met Sandra in high school and we kinda became friends. I wasn’t all that attracted to her physically. I’m still not. She’s not ugly, nor is it a shallowness thing, she’s just not really my type. I’m not the guy to just “take whatever I can get.” So it was a difficult decision when she told me how utterly heartbroken she was when she had no date to prom. I figured it would give me a good excuse to go to the prom and I would be making someone else happy, so I took her. And from that point forward she became rather infatuated with me and I made the hideous mistake of “just going with it” so I didn’t hurt her feelings. I tried my damnedest to find things to like about her as a girlfriend, but we were really a pretty bad fit. Plus, we had this sort of non-commital and strange relationship where we didn’t consider ourselves a couple, but still ended up holding hands or hanging out outside of school a lot. Sandra had never dated anyone before and I was a trainwreck because of the girl from 2015, so it was this stilted and halfhearted attempt at romance.

She wrote me a letter once, confessing her feelings about me and the way she thought of me at night. She was too nervous to give it to me in person, and had a mutual friend deliver the note. It was full of grammatical and spelling errors, and her handwriting lacked something to be desired. I was both honored... and slightly put off by it. She was 18 years old, with her own car and a paying job, but her methods of going after this relationship reminded me of the silly things I did in 5th grade. I guess that’s when I realized that I couldn’t keep leading her on and that it wasn’t really meant to be. I was looking for something a little more serious and age appropriate, but she still couldn’t handle something like that and I didn’t really feel for her how she felt for me. So I... just couldn’t figure out what to tell her. I ended up using graduation as a means to distance myself. We were moving off to different colleges with different goals and ambitions. I felt guilt for a long time for just brushing her off without saying anything beyond “I’m not really at a good place for a relationship right now, mentally.” Which was the truth, but I felt like I could have said more. We’ll put a pin in the story of Sandra for the time being, because it has a more clear resolution later.

Shortly before graduation, I received a piece of fan art on twitter that was truly special. It was probably one of the most accurate and detailed pictures of me anyone had ever drawn. Whoever did it clearly spent a lot of time staring at my old mug to make it happen and I was really impressed with it. I showed it to my classmates to not-so-humbly brag about my following online (come on, I had to be excited about something SOMETIMES, its not like I did it more than that one time). Then to my surprise I saw that there was a particularly pretty girl in the profile picture of the person that sent me this piece of fan art. I think my female audience is kind of small, so I was really happy to see one of them sending fan art and kind words. Plus I thought she was cute.

I sent her a DM on twitter saying that I thought it was really cool and probably one of my favorite pieces of fan art ever, she responded and we just kind of started talking from there. The more I learned about her, the more I liked her. We had a SCARY amount of things in common. Like, favorite comics, movies, books. We shared a similar sense of humor, we had the same extremely jaded reaction to fictional violence and laughed while looking at covers of “Crossed” together. We even took the same type of antidepressant medication. I fell for her really quickly, probably in the first 15 minutes of what would be a 9 hour conversation. Of course our mutual insomnia kept us from caring about sleep and we just kept talking and sharing stories and pictures of cosplay. I felt like I had never felt before. For the sake of protecting her identity, let’s say her name is uh... Lila. Sure, some of you internet detectives might be able to find out her real name, but I ask you... please don’t harass her or ask her about any of this. Respect her privacy, respect her decisions, and respect her in general.

So, Lila and I made an amazing match it seemed. She made me feel... like I had been found after being lost again. Part of me resigned to this notion that I’d never meet a girl who I had things in common with. Maybe I’d live my life with my interests and dreams being silly to the women I spent my time with, or worse, boring. Lila treated me like the things that I did and talked about were interesting. She thought I was cool. It helped undo a lot of self loathing just talking to her for that first 3 days. I was walking with a spring in my step at school for the final few days, I was singing in my choir class instead of just lip syncing, I was acting like I didn’t care what anyone thought of me, because at least she thought I was interesting, and that was all I needed. In a way, just meeting her was what I needed to get over a lot of pain, and I’ll always be thankful for her giving that to me. We didn’t have to be in a relationship, I just needed the validation of knowing girls like her existed. She stayed up until 4 Am with me on school nights, talking with me through text or skype helping me stay awake to finish studying for my geography test. We spent hours just talking about our lives and what we thought of the world. We shared our experiences battling depression. Eventually she told me that I made her happy when nothing else could and I said the same. In almost a week it felt like we knew each other for a life-time. So at 3 AM one night I asked her to be my girlfriend and she said yes. The problem with that was... she lived in a different country.

I never really considered that part until after it was too late. Long distance relationships have always seemed like a huge gamble to me, but I was willing to risk it for Lila. And for about a month, it was working REALLY well. We would watch movies together on skype, share ideas for cosplays, and just chat until the sun came up every night. She even helped me bake apology cupcakes for my mom at 5 AM after I carved a spider logo into the kitchen table on accident. I was feeling freaked out because I felt genuinely happy for the first time in two years and I was just waiting for some anvil to fall on me and everything to be ruined. But the distance and our age became a problem. We were both at the very end of high school, just about to go to college and unsure of where life would go. She mentioned that she was thinking about traveling abroad to go to college. I had a conversation about it with my mom and BOY did she take it far immediately. “Ask her to go to your college! She could move in with us! We have the room now! You could drive her to school every day and eventually get your own place and get married and have kids and blah blah blah blah...”

My mother was just excited. She’s also been going through relationship problems too in the last year, and was just living vicariously through me. My mom wanted something to be stable and long lasting and fun, but she didn’t realize that it was too early to ask Lila for these things... and I... like a complete idiot... asked Lila if she wanted to go to college with me and live in America with me. I pretty much asked her to move in with me after knowing her for 6 weeks. She still had a lot to learn about me, and vice versa. We were worlds apart and it would have been a huge step if she only lived down the street, let alone in a different country. I shouldn’t have asked, and I ESPECIALLY, shouldn’t have asked more than once. I still feel like an idiot for it to this day and it was nearly 6 months ago. Then things started getting worse, mostly due to my previous relationships bleeding into my actions.

The girl I dated in 2015 cheated on me because I was so hesitant to be physically intimate with her. That creates a lot of doubt and shame, so I started asking Lila how she felt about that sort of thing if we were to meet in person one day. She became uncomfortable with the subject and I very awkwardly tried to steer the conversation away from it. Then a message meant for someone else accidentally got sent to her without context that SEVERELY damaged the situation. When being asked about the price of something by a friend, I sent back a number, which went to Lila and without context “... about 8.50″ looks VERY... weird? Maybe even kinda threatening if you misconstrue it the right way? I looked like the biggest creep/moron! So I tanked that 4 AM conversation pretty hard, and then listened to some very, very poor advice from a friend who said “just try to be casual with her about that stuff.” Because of my internal fears of her being bored with me if things didn’t get hot and heavy now and then, I started awkwardly making more casual references and jokes regarding sex over the following two days. It made her uncomfortable, and she kept quiet about it, so I kept doing it until I just couldn’t anymore. I had to tell her that I didn’t like it either and that I was doing it because I was worried she’d end up getting tired of a relationship where it wasn’t a factor. I held her to the same standards as the girl from 2015, and it was unfair. She wouldn’t cheat on me if I didn’t bring up intimacy constantly, and I was stupid for thinking she might. I won’t make excuses, but I will say why I did that. And I know I learned from it and won’t do that ever again. That made things a little more tense and over time, we started having other issues as well.

Lila made an off handed reference to some passage of her diary she wrote about me in the last few days we talked. The thing she said concerned me, as it didn’t sound positive at all. I pressed her on it because I was worried it was just several pages of her listing off the things she hated about me. Eventually she broke and read it off, and it was just several pages of her listing off the things she hated about me. She disliked my dress sense and hated my clothes, she thought the way I ate food was stupid looking(???) she felt weird about dating me for my RACE, because apparently she didn’t talk to many white guys except me. She spent hours of her personal time writing about superficial things about me that she didn’t like, and thus my self image problem had returned and I didn’t wear button up shirts for 4 months. I asked her if there was anything she DID like about me, and after a long time of struggling to find something to say, she said she liked my sense of humor and that I was nice to her. Which are... kinda general reasons to like someone? Like, non-specific and sort of forced. Then over the next few weeks she started insulting me a lot more. She developed a habit of casually calling me a... derogatory term for homosexual... (not sure what twitter’s policy is on cussing and slurs, currently so I don’t want to say it) and saying hurtful things randomly. I figured it was time to accept that the honeymoon phase was over and that she didn’t like me nearly as much as she initially thought. She didn’t like me nearly as much as I liked her. Then the final straw happened.

Being in a relationship with someone so far away can be stressful, because your ability to speak to them is entirely dependent on the use of the internet and all its various outlets. If she were to just decide one day she didn’t like using Facebook messenger anymore and delete it, I wouldn’t be able to speak with Lila through it unless I used something else. So when she casually deleted messenger one day, I just... couldn’t hear from her anymore. She never told me she was going to do it, so all of my messages to her on the first day went to no one. I decided to give her some space and assumed she just didn’t feel like talking. By day 5 I was a nervous wreck and assumed she died and had no idea where she was or what happened to her. I was losing sleep over it, my friend was checking police reports in her area, I messaged her on twitter asking if she was okay. I got no response and felt so scared. Eventually, my friend Damian messaged her on twitter myself and she responded in a few short hours, just saying she forgot to tell me about it and resumed talking to me on twitter like nothing happened. All that worry and anxiety turned to anger really quickly, because she was either trying to break up with me in an indirect way by ignoring me, or she was just being inconsiderate and actually forgot to tell me our main means of communication was going away for no specific reason. I didn’t resent her, but I was upset.

This caused me to think long and hard about the relationship and how it was doing after those short few months. We both made mistakes. I got way ahead of myself and was asking about very serious steps way too early, I let my distrust of people guide my decision to act like someone I wasn’t to keep her interest because of past experiences, and she undermined a lot of my self confidence and said some very toxic things. I wasn’t quite ready for a long distance relationship and I was still hung up on bad things from my past. She hadn’t dated anyone before and wasn’t really ready to commit, nor did she have much interest in it. We agreed that going back to being friends was better, before we started to hate each other. And of course, we talked less and less in the following weeks until not at all. We haven’t spoken in a few months now, and looking back I’m not proud of my actions or hers. I think in another life, another time, after we both did a lot of growing up, we might have made a really great team. As I said before, I’m still very thankful to have met her. I think just meeting her gave me a lot of hope and confidence that even she couldn’t really ever take away. I know now that I have a chance at meeting someone who doesn’t look at me like an alien. I know now that I can’t be distrustful and hold everyone to the same standard as people. I know now that if I were to try dating again, there are a lot of bad choices that I’d avoid (definitely wouldn’t be so damn clingy, ew). And I know now that the girl from 2015 isn’t the only girl on Earth who will be interested in me, I just have to look for another one. As for “Sandra,” I texted her midway through this last semester telling her that I felt guilty about the way things quietly drifted off, and we met up a few weeks before thanksgiving break. That night we tried one more time, going to a restaurant with no open seats and a 2 hour waiting time. She said she wasn’t hungry and we went back to her place where she had no food so I remained starving for that night. Her parents weren’t home, and we... spent the rest of the night looking at vacation photos on her phone. It was clear that the magic just wasn’t there, and I told her before I left that I appreciated her giving me the opportunity to tell her that it just wasn’t meant to be. She had no interest in the things I liked, and while I could see that she tried to like those things too, her heart wasn’t in it. So we ended things amicably like we should have months before. I was proud with how I handled it, and I felt as if though I was finally an adult when it came to my relationships.

I don’t need another person to like me in order to validate my existence. I don’t need to have everyone in the world think I’m awesome. I don’t need to rely on someone constantly to maintain my self confidence and my image. I don’t need to date someone to avoid feeling lonely, because you can be just as lonely in a relationship as you are out of one. I don’t need to say and do things untrue to myself to keep someone interested in me, because if they lost interest when I act like myself, they aren’t worth my time. I don’t need to date someone to feel complete. I don’t need to date someone just because I don’t want to hurt their feelings by turning them down. If you’re feeling alone lately and having a hard time getting into a relationship, just remember you don’t need any of that. There’s always someone out there for you, and your interests don’t make you completely alone, even if it feels like there’s no one else in the world that shares them. Being into “nerd shit” doesn’t guarantee that you can’t find someone to love and care about, and even if someone loves the same stuff as you, it might not work out anyway and that’s perfectly fine. Just remember that the only person you need to believe in you is you and no one else can fix you but you. Try to find someone after you have all that stuff sorted out or you’ll just end up getting hurt again.

In all reality, I don’t need a girlfriend at all, but I’d still like one because the company is nice. There’s a girl out there for me, and I’m going to avoid the mistakes I’ve made in the past, and I’m going to leave behind the baggage and tragedies that lie behind me. Who knows, maybe going into 2018, I’ll get to meet her. Let’s hope so.

#relationships #story

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