#on the bright side dinner was fucking tasty :D

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 3, day 28, fuck it, got a little bit of work done, playing Forspoken now XD

[layla256]

Key to Her Heart Chapter 1/52: Halloween

So, some context first. My friends and I decided to do a 52 fanfic challenge this year, one prompt each week. The only rule is that you must adhere to the prompt, one post a week, and they all must be in the same universe. So, for example, if you have been writing marvel fanfic all year, but you think a prompt would be GREAT for Supernatural, you have to somehow fit the Supernatural universe into the MCU. 

Now, because I hate myself, I decided I was going to write an entire series consecutively with only a basic outline of my AU and no knowledge about the future prompts.

KILL ME.

But, either way, I think this’ll be a fun adventure into writing for me. So behold the first in my Spuffy AU Key to Her Heart. I’ll probably post this on AO3 and EF as well.

The prompt this time was:  Our hero (or heroine) loses his memory.   Who will help him find his way back?

And doesn’t that just scream “Halloween episode”?

WARNING: At one point at the end of this chapter, Spike makes the assumption that Buffy was raped in the episode Reptile Boy. While no detail is given and Buffy reveals that there wasn’t any rape, it’s still an issue mentioned and I don’t want to blind side anyone with it.

Spike wasn’t a traditionalist. He never pretended to be one either. No matter how much Dru had wanted him to be, that just wasn’t something he cared about. All that chanting and ritual? It just wasn’t him. However, if there was one rule he was willing to take seriously, it was the one about Halloween. You don’t start shit on Halloween. It’s everyone’s fucking vacation day. Sure, if a tasty snack wanders by he isn’t going to say, “No thanks, I’m dieting today!” But he also understood that, at a certain point, causing problems on Halloween was just being a dick.

Spike can respect an asshole (he is often one), but being a dick is an entirely different story.

So, you can imagine the conflict he felt when Dru told him that someone was, as his mother would have said, “making shenanigans” that were going to deliver the Slayer into his lap. On the one hand, he had his principles dammit! He had said he would respect the Halloween rule when he first learned of it. However, on the other hand, he was an ancient, evil vampire and he did whatever he wanted! Not to mention the fact that the slayer was a royal bitch who had it coming.

Eventually, Spike made a compromise with himself. He’d go out and enjoy whatever chaos occurred because of this newcomer. If he saw the slayer? Great. Dinner and his Dark Princess back at her best again. If he saw the person responsible? A beating and lecture that would make his father weep with jealousy.

He hadn’t been planning on what he would do if he ran into her however.

She looked beautiful, although he knew from experience at this point that she always did. Her normally well-kept hair was completely falling out of whatever adorable braid she’d managed to coax it into that night. The crown of what looked like Daffodils was almost falling completely off her head. Her make up was relatively un-smudged, but that probably had more to do with the fact that she wasn’t wearing much, just a light dusting of gold across her eyelids and a similar color on her lips.

However, the thing that caught his attention wasn’t just the confused look on her face, but the dress she was wearing. Unlike the tight black number that had been haunting his dreams since that God-awful frat party the week before, this dress matched Buffy far better. The creamy silk of the one-shoulder dress looked gorgeous folded and wrapped around her body, accentuating every curve while hiding the important parts from his gaze. The golden rope around her waist synched it all in, drawing his attention to her hips and that luscious ass that—

And he was going to stop that train of thought right now.

She looked at him with no recognition and a hint of fear, making him want to cast himself on the nearest cross. Worried that she was upset with him for the party, he shrunk his shoulders, held his hands up, and tried to seem as non-threatening as possible.

“Pet I—I would never hurt you. You know that, right? Please tell me you know I would never hurt you.”

While the confusion didn’t leave her hazel green eyes, the fear definitely did. “D-Do you know me?” She asked hesitantly, looking around them with wide eyes. “Do you know who I am?”

Spike’s brow furrowed. “Of course I do, luv. You’re—”

He was cut off as one of her friends came running towards them looking a bit odd while followed by the other one, who wasn’t moving normally. Too stiff.

“Buffy!” Red called, waving her arms wildly at the girl in front of him. “Buffy, thank goodness you’re ok!”

 Spike was stuck on baby-sitting duty, and he wasn’t sure how upset he wanted to be about it. Red, who was a very hot ghost for some reason, had run off to find Buffy’s pseudo Watcher, leaving him to look after the Whelp and Buffy, both of whom had turned into their costumes, leaving confused shells behind.

“So I dressed as a goddess and now I am one?” Buffy asked again, still trying to grasp everything after the short run-through Willow had given Spike. “That does sound rather . . . disconcerting.”

What’s disconcerting is you using that kind of language Spike thought, but he kept it to himself. He knew there was a bright mind under all that blonde, and he wasn’t going to be one of the many people discouraging her about it.

“So, fill us in,” Whelp ordered, showing more initiative that Spike had ever seen in the teen. “What is the situation like?”

Spike sighed heavily, not wanting to really get into it. “Look, I wasn’t here for the mess that was last year, alright? So you lot are getting the cliff-notes version and nothing more. Got it?”

The goddess and soldier before him nodded, though Whelp looked like he wanted to argue the point more.

“Now, I don’t know about you Whelp, but I know that little miss amnesia over there moved here about a year and a half ago after her parents split. She met you and Red and you little Happy Meals have been friends ever since.” He noticed Buffy scrunch her nose at the term “Happy Meals” and couldn’t help but smile knowing there was still some of her in that costume after all. She always did get on his case about it.

“Why would my parents split apart? Surely if they loved one another enough to marry—”

“Cliff notes version luv,” Spike reminded her gently. In all honesty, he didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth. That when Hank and Joyce Summers had been confronted with the very real issue of the supernatural Joyce had dealt with it through mild panic, heavy drinking for two days, and silence while Hank had simply attempted to ship Buffy off to the funny farm. Thankfully, the idea of her daughter being sent somewhere like that for something Joyce knew was real had snapped her back to herself pretty quickly. However, Buffy had blamed herself for the divorce ever since, and Spike, evil though he may be, didn’t have it in him to hurt her like that.

“So you lot wound up getting involved in most of the nasty business here on the Hellmouth since good ol’ Watcher thought you might be a Potential.”

Once again, Buffy’s brow furrowed in the most adorable way. “Potential what?”

Spike shook his head. “Potential Slayer, luv, like that Faith bi-bint Willow mentioned she was getting. One girl in every soddin‘ generation to cause vamps like me all kinds of headaches. They thought you were one for a bit, but turns out you’ve just got major magic going on.”

Whelp shot up. “‘Vamps like me’? You’re a vampire? Then why are you helping us?” Spike saw him reach for his weapon, but waved him off.

“Easy there Rambo. My issue’s with the Slayer and her lot. I got no quarrel with you all.” He looked at Buffy with a single smirk. “Told you that the first night we met actually. You and Red threatened to light my highly flammable ass on fire if I tried to take a bite out of you. Been nothing but banter ever since.”

Buffy smiled, “So we’re compatriots then?” she asked cautiously. “Through humor and fear?”

Spike barked out a laugh. “‘Compatriots’, sure. I gave you my word that, long as you and your lot stayed out of my business, you’d be safe as houses. Yer Mum’s got permanent protection too, in case you’re worried.” No need to mention how pointless he thought it was, seeing as how the woman bashed him over the head with an ax right after thinking he was attacking Buffy.

Buffy nodded her head gratefully, more of her hair spilling out of her braid. “Thank you very much Spike. That puts my mind at an ease.”

Bloody hell, Red needed to hurry up with whatever plan it was she had for fixing this mess.

After that, things eventually quieted down a bit. Soldier Whelp went into the kitchen hunting for “provisions”, leaving Spike with a curious Buffy.

“Spike,” she said cautiously, tilting her head as she looked at him. “Spike, why were you concerned that I was afraid of you when we met? If we are friends and you have upheld your end of our bargain, then surely I would have no reason to fear you.”

Spike sighed heavily for what felt like the thousandth time that night, running his fingers over his gelled hair in frustration. He’d honestly been hoping she wouldn’t ask about that.

He could lie to her, tell her some made-up story to keep in the goddess’s good graces for a while longer, but he immediately shook the thought off. He might not mind it, but Buffy would be offended. She’d see it as a manipulation. While she won’t come out and reprimand him for it, he’ll still be subject to those disappointed eyes. Like last time.

“You, well, pet, that is—” he cut himself off with an angry growl. Rip the bandage off. “You’re upset with me. I went and killed some blighters who absolutely deserved it, but you didn’t appreciate it. Haven’t spoken to me in a week for it.”

Buffy’s head tilted once again for a moment, considering. He hated when she did that. For one thing, she looked bloody adorable. For another, he could never tell what she was about to say. “What was their crime?” She asked finally.

Spike blinked at her twice. “What?”

“Their crime.” She repeated simply. “You ascertained that they deserved their fate, but what crime did they commit to deserve such a thing?”

Spike couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t explain the pain on Buffy’s face when she’d told him of the drugs they’d put in her drink, they way they’d dragged her about as they saw fit.

She hadn’t come out and said it, but he knew that you only drugged a girl for one reason and one alone. That in and of itself would have earned them a solid beating session with him (he’d never much liked rape, even after being turned), but the fact that they’d done it to Buffy, kind, innocent Buffy who went so far out of her way for her friends and family, even an undead monster like himself, was unforgivable. There was only one appropriate punishment, and he certainly didn’t regret being the one to give it out.

Thankfully, he was saved from explaining as the crown completely fell off of her head, and Buffy, blinking as if to clear a fog, looked at him with recognition for the first time. “Spike?” she asked her nose once again being too freaking cute for words as it scrunched. “Ugh, what happened? I feel all magic-y.”

“Thank Eric Cantona, she lives to butcher the mother tongue once more!” Spike grinned and swept her into a hug, swinging her around once before dropping her onto the ground.

“Spike, what’s got you all ramped up? You’ve been all with the brooding worse than Angel lately.” Despite her words, a bright smile took over her face. “Ever since Willow, Cordy, and I almost got sacrificed to that snake demon thingy last week—”

Spike gripped her shoulders tightly, eyes tinted yellow. “Wait, what? What sacrifice?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Remember? The frat party? I was all with the crying and the depresso girl and you went on a completely unnecessary warpath through the whole freaking frat?”

Spike felt the distinct need to lay down. A sacrifice. The boys hadn’t raped her. Just a failed sacrifice. That he hadn’t even known about.

Yes. A kip was definitely a requirement right now.

So that’s the first chapter! In this AU Buffy is the key as opposed to Dawn, and Faith is the Slayer. This is actually a thought I had back in high school when I first watched the series and couldn’t get my hands on anything past the first third of the fifth season and none of the Angel series, so recognize that a lot of my characterization won’t stray from my feelings about characters past around the Dracula episode. While I’ll be referencing and maybe even writing about things in later seasons (maybe even the comics, I’m not sure yet), my main influence are going to be those first few years. For example, I am perfectly aware of the fact that Faith gets a redemption and becomes a great Slayer and a good friend to Buffy. However, I had seven years to sit and stew on how much I hated her before I could get my hands on the later seasons, so . . . yeah.

[buckygirl-fanfiction]

You Can Be Dinner (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader POV

Work Count: 1.4K

Summary / Warnings: SMUT! Blow jobs and Bucky fucking you on the dinner table.

A/N: This is what happens when ya’ll like and reblog and leave me nice comments :D I get all happy and decide to write part two.

I was sitting opposite Bucky glaring holes into him as I picked at my bowl of extra mushy pasta. Meanwhile across from me on the other side of the table he scarfs down his food seeming content and unbothered by the consistency. So he ruins my pasta, gets me worked up, and I don’t even get fucked. There he sits occasionally looking up at me and smiling smugly like he’s won some sort of battle of wills.

He was still only wearing a towel wrapped around his waist and while scowling at him I arrive at a bright idea. I uncrossed my legs and at first slowly tapped my foot against his. He looked up at the contact and I pretended to be interested in my bowl of mush, acting like my actions had just been an accident when in reality I was in the process of initiating a very cleverly crafted plan. After a minute or two I slowly begin to slide my leg up against his, rubbing my soft calf against his contrastingly muscular one. Before he has a chance to ask me what i’m doing I say, “Hmm you’re warm.”

He rolls his eyes and says, “eat your food.”

“I’m not hungry.” I reply.

My leg is still against his and I move it slowly up and up until I can feel the muscles of his thighs with my toes. But before I can get any further he reaches under the table and grabs hold of my ankle, which is now resting on his lap.

“Eat,” he says looking across the table at my bowl. I honestly didn’t feel like mushy pasta but I wouldn’t have minded eating it. It’s just that my mind was entirely occupied somewhere else and I could care less about my hunger right now. Well for my hunger for food…

“Feed me Daddy,” I say smiling devilishly at him and he knows well enough to know that i’m not talking about food.

But, he just doesn’t seem like he wants to play along. He reaches over and picks up my fork and lifts it to my mouth and I almost want to laugh at the lengths he’ll go to, to fuck with me.

“That’s not what I want,” I say pouting. I slip a index finger into my mouth and pull it out slowly all while holding his darkening gaze. His hand is still around my ankle and he squeezes it before letting me go.

“What do you want?” He says teasingly. I’m not usually verbal, Bucky is the dirty talker, and he knows that and he’s trying to get me to clam up. But, I can surprise him too.

“Oh,” I say smiling innocently, “what I want is thick, and big, and warm, and hard…” For a second I see his eyes widen at my directness.

“You know patience is a virtue.” He says before pursing his lips. “Sometimes instant gratification isn’t as rewarding as the slow build.”

I get up and walk over to his side of the table and slowly sink down to my knees. Oh so that’s the game he’s playing. Well then two can play at this. He shifts his body so he is facing me and looks down. I can see it in his eyes, the second he decides to give in, It’s like a sigh and then a spark of fire lights up. His metal hand is under my chin tilting my head up and I lick my lips. Just seeing his will power slip spurs me on, exhilarates me, brings me right back to the edge. I put my hands on his knees and slowly move them up his thighs, under his towel, until I reach what I want. I wrap one hand around his thick shaft and with the other I pull his towel open. His eyes are still fixed on my actions, he’s watching me, and the idea of that is so hot.

I lean over and gently lick the tip of his cock. He lets out a harsh breath and continues to look down at me through hooded eyelids. I do it again. Just small kitten licks, just enough to drive him insane. I smile each time his eyes meet mine and flutter my eyelashes as if I had idea what I was doing to him.

Finally he looks down at me and mouths, “suck,” and I feel myself grow increasingly wetter just at his directness and his authoritativeness. He’s never this direct and on the rare occasions he is. it’s hot. It’s panty soaking hot.

I open my mouth and take him in. My lips close around him sheeting him from my teeth. I wrap my tongue around his cock and take him in as deep as I can before pulling back up, then I do it again… and again… until I start to feel him loose whatever miniscule amount of control he has left. He impatiently juts his hips up into my mouth and soon his warm human hand is tangled in my hair cradling the back of my head gently pushing me down making me take more of his cock into my mouth and I lost in the rhythm he’s created. I look up at him and he’s still watching me and I almost lose it. I realize watching me must turn him on just as much as it does when he does for me. Just when his thrusts into my mouth begin to become more erratic and he throws his head back I pull free from his hold and pop his length out of my mouth.

His eyes are wide and his breath is coming out in short huffs. He looks down at me, his mouth hangs open, and he has no words. Good. I push myself back on my feet and take my seat on his lap. My legs hang over his side and I put my arms around him. “You were very tasty,” I say licking my lips. He looks at me questioningly before moving his fingers to undo the top buttons of my cardigan. Before he can I grab his hands and stop him. “Patience is a virtue remember.” I say pushing his hands aside. I lean over and grab his glass of water and take a sip. “Finish your food.” I smiling and put his glass down. I was going to make him pay for earlier and now the power was in my hands.

Just as I get up and am about to go take a seat back on my side of the table I feel his hand on the small of my back. He stands up with me and he’s considerably taller and stronger and he pushes me down on the table.

“Hey!” I say angrily. No! He can’t just decide he wants to fuck me now. That’s not fair. He has to suffer just like I did. I feel him roughly pull up my pencil skirt and yank at my cardigan, “No! What happened to delayed gratification! This isn’t fair,” I say trying to push myself off the table.

All i’m met with is his warm human hand at the back of my neck pushing me down and holding me in place, my cheek against the cool wood of our dining room table. And if i’m being completely honest with myself I like it. I don’t care I lost. I don’t care that I didn’t get to give him a taste of his own medicine and make him sit all frustrated and horny waiting for me. I don’t care. I was so wet and wound up I needed this.

“You will take whatever gratification I give you,” he says before pulling my panties aside. And if his words weren’t enough to set me off his cock pushes into me an instant later and after a couple strokes I come. Pathetic, I know, my stamina was horrible when It came to Bucky’s dirty mouth. However, Bucky was still going strong and his powerful thrusts were driving me insane. “That’s it baby take it,” he says through gritted teeth. Meanwhile i’m just a moaning mess of incomprehensible curses. I hear a few more praises fall from his lips along with some even filthier observations and I come undone again. His trusts are getting erratic as well and I know he’s close. He comes pulling my ass flush against his pelvis. I can feel him pulse inside me and then warmth. He pulls out of me after a second and falls back into his chair pulling me along with him. I’m situated back on his lap and he begins to chuckle, “still hungry?” He asks.

“Yeah,” I say laughing, “Maybe some actual dinner this time.”

[charlesjening]

The Six Kinds of Regret You’ll Experience Now That Busy Season Is Over

For weeks on end now your entire existence has revolved around busy season and all the misery that brings. Your significant other hasn’t heard from you in days and even your dog is suspicious of you when you finally arrive home late in the evening, suspecting you might be a burglar. Your best friend is the Postmates guy who probably knows more about you and your habits than your own mother. Suffice to say, you’ve rearranged your life around this trying time of year.

And now it’s over. So where do you go from here? After a well-deserved nap, of course. It’s normal to need a bit of time to decompress, kind of like when hostages are rescued and slowly introduced back into society.

I’m a Terrible Pet Owner Regret

via GIPHY

Hey, remember that furry little critter that shares your home with you? Yeah, that’s yours. You pledged to care of it for a lifetime, but shit happens (quite literally, actually, when we’re talking about pets), and thanks to busy season, you might be a few months behind on grooming. Don’t beat yourself up too bad, just be sure to take that good boi to the park this weekend to catch up on some quality ball-throwing time.

I’m an Entire Season Behind Regret

via GIPHY

The underrated gift of modern times is binge-watching TV on demand. I’m old enough to remember when we had to sit in front of the VCR and manually press play in the hopes I could catch “Headbangers Ball” on time, assuming grandma wasn’t tying up our only TV by falling asleep on the couch to CNN yet again. You kids don’t know how good you have it, seriously. Still, if you’ve been neck-deep in busy season, chances are you may have missed entire seasons of your favorite show. Lucky for you it’s right there at the press of a button. Settle in and indulge, you earned it.

The Spores Have Set In Regret

via GIPHY

Why the hell don’t you have a maid? Did playing The Sims not teach you anything? Even just a monthly deep clean is so worth it, especially when you spend a mere seven hours a day at your home, the majority of which are dedicated to sleeping. If you’re not the maid-having type, chances are busy season did a number on your home. Do yourself a favor and just hire someone to take care of that disgusting mess.

The Stranger in My Bed Regret

via GIPHY

Your wife/husband/significant other/fuckbuddy is a gosh darn saint for putting up with you all these weeks. If you’re extra lucky, they walked your dog and took out your trash while you were aimlessly wandering from a den of spreadsheets, home to bed, and then back to your hellish work nest again. Maybe it’s a good thing you’ve hardly seen them through busy season; your relationship will be like new again! Or not. Maybe it’ll be creepy when you find this stranger spooning you in the middle of the night. Whatever. Take them out for dinner and get re-acquainted. Or better, have them take you out.

The Text Queue Regret

via GIPHY

Just like your dog and your SO, your friends have probably been missing you while you’ve been held captive by busy season. You may have dozens of text messages that you thought you responded to or meant to get to but never did. Time to hit up all those third-rate pals and let them know you’re still alive. Don’t bother with the “sorry, I was busy” explainer, you’re cutting into all important GoT binging time by explaining yourself to people you can barely be arsed to speak to a few times a year.

The Vitamin D Deficiency Regret

via GIPHY

Look, we know you’re eager to get outside during daylight. You’re looking pastier than a slab of pastry dough in a Tasty cooking video if you’re on the low melanin spectrum. Look on the bright side (no pun), the lack of sunlight means your skin isn’t aging as fast as those losers who actually get outside from January to April. Still, you need some Vit D. Get your ass outside and soak that shit up.

Look, now that busy season has ended. you probably regret a lot of things, from neglecting your relationship to not cleaning your toilet in far too long. At the end of the day, who cares? Unless a colony of roaches has moved into your house while you’ve been grinding away in the name of client service, fuck it, it is what it is.

Congratulations, you survived another year!

via GIPHY

The post The Six Kinds of Regret You’ll Experience Now That Busy Season Is Over appeared first on Going Concern.

republished from Going Concern

[ashleydpalmerusa]

The Six Kinds of Regret You’ll Experience Now That Busy Season Is Over

For weeks on end now your entire existence has revolved around busy season and all the misery that brings. Your significant other hasn’t heard from you in days and even your dog is suspicious of you when you finally arrive home late in the evening, suspecting you might be a burglar. Your best friend is the Postmates guy who probably knows more about you and your habits than your own mother. Suffice to say, you’ve rearranged your life around this trying time of year.

And now it’s over. So where do you go from here? After a well-deserved nap, of course. It’s normal to need a bit of time to decompress, kind of like when hostages are rescued and slowly introduced back into society.

I’m a Terrible Pet Owner Regret

via GIPHY

Hey, remember that furry little critter that shares your home with you? Yeah, that’s yours. You pledged to care of it for a lifetime, but shit happens (quite literally, actually, when we’re talking about pets), and thanks to busy season, you might be a few months behind on grooming. Don’t beat yourself up too bad, just be sure to take that good boi to the park this weekend to catch up on some quality ball-throwing time.

I’m an Entire Season Behind Regret

via GIPHY

The underrated gift of modern times is binge-watching TV on demand. I’m old enough to remember when we had to sit in front of the VCR and manually press play in the hopes I could catch “Headbangers Ball” on time, assuming grandma wasn’t tying up our only TV by falling asleep on the couch to CNN yet again. You kids don’t know how good you have it, seriously. Still, if you’ve been neck-deep in busy season, chances are you may have missed entire seasons of your favorite show. Lucky for you it’s right there at the press of a button. Settle in and indulge, you earned it.

The Spores Have Set In Regret

via GIPHY

Why the hell don’t you have a maid? Did playing The Sims not teach you anything? Even just a monthly deep clean is so worth it, especially when you spend a mere seven hours a day at your home, the majority of which are dedicated to sleeping. If you’re not the maid-having type, chances are busy season did a number on your home. Do yourself a favor and just hire someone to take care of that disgusting mess.

The Stranger in My Bed Regret

via GIPHY

Your wife/husband/significant other/fuckbuddy is a gosh darn saint for putting up with you all these weeks. If you’re extra lucky, they walked your dog and took out your trash while you were aimlessly wandering from a den of spreadsheets, home to bed, and then back to your hellish work nest again. Maybe it’s a good thing you’ve hardly seen them through busy season; your relationship will be like new again! Or not. Maybe it’ll be creepy when you find this stranger spooning you in the middle of the night. Whatever. Take them out for dinner and get re-acquainted. Or better, have them take you out.

The Text Queue Regret

via GIPHY

Just like your dog and your SO, your friends have probably been missing you while you’ve been held captive by busy season. You may have dozens of text messages that you thought you responded to or meant to get to but never did. Time to hit up all those third-rate pals and let them know you’re still alive. Don’t bother with the “sorry, I was busy” explainer, you’re cutting into all important GoT binging time by explaining yourself to people you can barely be arsed to speak to a few times a year.

The Vitamin D Deficiency Regret

via GIPHY

Look, we know you’re eager to get outside during daylight. You’re looking pastier than a slab of pastry dough in a Tasty cooking video if you’re on the low melanin spectrum. Look on the bright side (no pun), the lack of sunlight means your skin isn’t aging as fast as those losers who actually get outside from January to April. Still, you need some Vit D. Get your ass outside and soak that shit up.

Look, now that busy season has ended. you probably regret a lot of things, from neglecting your relationship to not cleaning your toilet in far too long. At the end of the day, who cares? Unless a colony of roaches has moved into your house while you’ve been grinding away in the name of client service, fuck it, it is what it is.

Congratulations, you survived another year!

via GIPHY

The post The Six Kinds of Regret You’ll Experience Now That Busy Season Is Over appeared first on Going Concern.

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[lisarprahl]

The Six Kinds of Regret You’ll Experience Now That Busy Season Is Over

For weeks on end now your entire existence has revolved around busy season and all the misery that brings. Your significant other hasn’t heard from you in days and even your dog is suspicious of you when you finally arrive home late in the evening, suspecting you might be a burglar. Your best friend is the Postmates guy who probably knows more about you and your habits than your own mother. Suffice to say, you’ve rearranged your life around this trying time of year.

And now it’s over. So where do you go from here? After a well-deserved nap, of course. It’s normal to need a bit of time to decompress, kind of like when hostages are rescued and slowly introduced back into society.

I’m a Terrible Pet Owner Regret

via GIPHY

Hey, remember that furry little critter that shares your home with you? Yeah, that’s yours. You pledged to care of it for a lifetime, but shit happens (quite literally, actually, when we’re talking about pets), and thanks to busy season, you might be a few months behind on grooming. Don’t beat yourself up too bad, just be sure to take that good boi to the park this weekend to catch up on some quality ball-throwing time.

I’m an Entire Season Behind Regret

via GIPHY

The underrated gift of modern times is binge-watching TV on demand. I’m old enough to remember when we had to sit in front of the VCR and manually press play in the hopes I could catch “Headbangers Ball” on time, assuming grandma wasn’t tying up our only TV by falling asleep on the couch to CNN yet again. You kids don’t know how good you have it, seriously. Still, if you’ve been neck-deep in busy season, chances are you may have missed entire seasons of your favorite show. Lucky for you it’s right there at the press of a button. Settle in and indulge, you earned it.

The Spores Have Set In Regret

via GIPHY

Why the hell don’t you have a maid? Did playing The Sims not teach you anything? Even just a monthly deep clean is so worth it, especially when you spend a mere seven hours a day at your home, the majority of which are dedicated to sleeping. If you’re not the maid-having type, chances are busy season did a number on your home. Do yourself a favor and just hire someone to take care of that disgusting mess.

The Stranger in My Bed Regret

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Your wife/husband/significant other/fuckbuddy is a gosh darn saint for putting up with you all these weeks. If you’re extra lucky, they walked your dog and took out your trash while you were aimlessly wandering from a den of spreadsheets, home to bed, and then back to your hellish work nest again. Maybe it’s a good thing you’ve hardly seen them through busy season; your relationship will be like new again! Or not. Maybe it’ll be creepy when you find this stranger spooning you in the middle of the night. Whatever. Take them out for dinner and get re-acquainted. Or better, have them take you out.

The Text Queue Regret

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Just like your dog and your SO, your friends have probably been missing you while you’ve been held captive by busy season. You may have dozens of text messages that you thought you responded to or meant to get to but never did. Time to hit up all those third-rate pals and let them know you’re still alive. Don’t bother with the “sorry, I was busy” explainer, you’re cutting into all important GoT binging time by explaining yourself to people you can barely be arsed to speak to a few times a year.

The Vitamin D Deficiency Regret

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Look, we know you’re eager to get outside during daylight. You’re looking pastier than a slab of pastry dough in a Tasty cooking video if you’re on the low melanin spectrum. Look on the bright side (no pun), the lack of sunlight means your skin isn’t aging as fast as those losers who actually get outside from January to April. Still, you need some Vit D. Get your ass outside and soak that shit up.

Look, now that busy season has ended. you probably regret a lot of things, from neglecting your relationship to not cleaning your toilet in far too long. At the end of the day, who cares? Unless a colony of roaches has moved into your house while you’ve been grinding away in the name of client service, fuck it, it is what it is.

Congratulations, you survived another year!

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The post The Six Kinds of Regret You’ll Experience Now That Busy Season Is Over appeared first on Going Concern.

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