#soi guess technically we’re friends?

[gregmarriage]

CATEGORY FIVE DYKE MOMENT™️: i want kissie 🥺

[matildashoney]

London Town

Loving You’s the Antidote Extra

MASTERLIST // MOODBOARD // TAG LIST // TAGS // PLAYLIST

TAG LIST: @ihearthemcallingforyou, @goldenfeelin, @detroitkiwis

talk to me about it!

thank you miss @berrynarrybanana​ for creating the sex bucket list fic challenge! i wanted to write something with the mile high club for harry and ames a while ago and this gave me every opportunity to do so. this is pure filth about harry and amelie getting back to london recently after being stuck in malibu during the quarantine.

warning: this is literally 4.4k of filth. i can’t be sorry for what my brain has done. i take no responsibility.

Harry is guarded, to say the least. There was too much happening for him not to be.

One of the security guards that was driving them to the airport got out with Amelie first, making sure that there weren’t any photographers waiting outside for them (which there shouldn’t be, all things considered) and having her get inside to wait for Harry when he was able to get all their luggage and out of the car. Harry was nervous, his hoodie tugged over his head and his passport and identification all sitting in his hoodie pocket. Amelie was wearing the hoodie they bought at a Spice Girls concert the year before, but it was beginning to fit a big snuggly around her tummy and they knew that anyone that saw them would start pregnancy speculations before they could even begin trying to have a baby themselves. Her hand grabs his as soon as he walks beside her, interlocking their fingers and hiding her face in his chest, the exhaustion beginning to set in and the bruising on her hips from the needles beginning to ache as she stands for much too long without rest.

Harry guides them through security, his heart breaking as Amelie knuckles her eyes and desperately clings to her last bit of energy and pouts as his bag gets checked once more and she isn’t able to sink into his embrace as she wants. Considering the amount of time Harry and Amelie have spent together in quarantine, it would have made more sense that they need space, when in fact, Amelie has never been clingier. Not that Harry pays any mind to it. He knows that it’s with the best intentions, all because she loves him and is happy to be with him. Her hormones are messy with the new birth control she was trying, as well, with all intentions to perhaps make her body ready to be pregnant later in the year. All Amelie wanted was a good snuggle a very hefty amount of the day. Harry was happy to give that to her.

Los Angeles International Airport is surprisingly empty, Harry thought there would have been more celebrities trying to get back to wherever they’re from now that flights are slowly beginning to depart again – not that they really should be. Harry is excited to get back to England, London particularly. Amelie, although her heart is in love with California, misses London, misses home. All of the exhibition pieces that she was working on were left there, and for nearly four months her creativity was dry and there was nothing she could think of. Harry misses his family, his home. He even misses Tigger, especially now that he’s been staying with Anne for nearly six months. Harry misses their routine. Amelie misses the comfort of being home.

Malibu is home in a lot of ways.

Malibu is where they said the three words for the first time. Malibu is where they got engaged. Malibu is where they got married on a whim. All of Amelie’s family is nearby and their best friends and godchildren are only a fifteen-minute drive away. Mostly, it’s being together that makes it feel like home. Home is so subjective. To Harry, after travelling for so many years, unsteady relationships, the media overwhelming him with labels and rumours and the way his mental health suffered, Amelie really became the one thing that made the most sense, that made him feel safe. To Amelie, with all that she went through, the idea that someone could make you feel like home was absolutely mad, and there was a nagging voice that always told her she wouldn’t find it, and then Harry waltzed into her life and simply knocked every single thought she had about her life into another world; Harry made her feel as though there was nothing that she couldn’t do, and maybe he was right about that. Home was with each other, no matter where they are or where they go.

Harry squeezes Amelie’s hand, the engagement ring and wedding band ice on his skin. He smiles though, the feeling that the symbol gives him making his eyes sting with tears. He sniffles, drawing her attention and her eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. He shakes his head, kissing her hairline and nodding to the near-empty terminal that was about to board their flight.

“’ey,” Amelie whispers, brushing her thumb under his eye and moving the mask slightly to kiss his cheek, “you okay?”

“Thought about how we’re married and got all,” Harry mutters, his nose in her hair and laughing to himself. “Don’t know, guess m’heart is softer, now.”

“Always has been, baby,” she smiles, laying her thighs over his legs and cuddling into his chest, her eyes falling shut as he gently rubs her back. “Think they’ll yell at us for laying in the same bed, again?”

“Don’t think so since everyone has to stay away,” he mumbles, taking in the way the ten other passengers for the flight are wearing masks and gloves. “Can’t wait to be home and don’t have to wear this thing.”

“Meaning you’re gon’a be naked in the garden most days and dragging me out with you.”

Harry snickers, meeting Amelie’s knowing stare and shrugging his shoulders, “As long as you’re naked, too.”

“Don’t try your luck, Mr Styles,” Amelie sighs, squeezing his hips as his thumb dips beneath the waistband of her leggings. “Harry.”

“Didn’t wear any knickers.”

“Je ne voulais pas qu'ils me montent au cul pendant douze heures,” she whispers under her breath, trying to avoid the entire terminal hearing that her decision this morning was to go without any knickers on an eleven-hour flight.

Harry smirks, tugging his mask to his chin and pressing his lips to the shell of her ear, “Tu essaies d'entrer dans le club du mile high, chérie?” For a man that slept maybe three hours, Harry is awfully horny at barely four in the afternoon.

Amelie lightly smacks his hand as his fingers inch towards her inner thigh, coming dangerously close to her centre. “Harry, I swear to God.”

“Oh, it could be fun, Ames.”

“Ah, yes, because you,” Amelie’s voice lowers to a whisper that even Harry can barely hear, “fucking me in our seats in first-class sounds like so much fun when we could get caught.”

“’s the thrill of it all, baby.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t use the baby card,” she says warningly, her eyes narrowing at the man she loves with her whole heart, trying to convey her seriousness. Her thighs clench around his hand, a near-death grip to break his movements where his fingertips would brush over her heat.

“Need those fingers, Cherry.”

“Don’t stick your hands in my leggings, then.” Harry smirks at Amelie. “That doesn’t mean you find a loophole and stick your hand over my fanny either, thank you.”

“Mean, technically I’m not over your fanny.” Harry laughs so loudly, the entire terminal turns to face him. “Need you to tell me when the hell you started calling it that, though. Taking to all the slang now that you’re half a Brit, huh.”

“Much less aggressive than calling it my,” Amelie whispers, “cunt. Don’t you think?”

“Quite like calling it that,” he shrugs, weaselling his hand further up her thigh, nearly holding her heat in his palm. “’s mine to call anything, you know.”

“Oh,” she snorts, shaking her head and lightly pushing his shoulder and smirking when he grabs her hand with his other hand, kissing her palm with a smirk. “Is that how marriage works? Don’t think that was on the document we signed.”

“Mean, as far as I’m aware. Got like,” Harry hums, pretending to count on his fingers the number of months since they’d gotten married in March, “three months under m’belt. ‘s kinda like how you say you want my cock in your mouth.”

“Harry, quit it. There are people around.”

“Half of them would need a hearing aid to hear me, honey.”

Amelie shakes her head, “Whipping your best terms of endearment isn’t making me any more inclined to have sex on the plane.”

“Hate to break it to you, angel, but you saying, fanny, doesn’t really give me an inclination to stick my hand in your pants, anyways.”

“Good,” she says, wrapping her hand around his wrist and moving it away, interlocking their fingers and grabbing their bags to walk to the desk to board. “Not to mention, it’s barely four in the afternoon.”

“Oh, time is a social construct, baby. Isn’t that what you say when you’re begging for it in the morning before I have get on a flight out somewhere?” Harry whispers in her ear, smiling at the flight attendant and handing his phone for the boarding passes.

Amelie releases Harry’s hand, tugging her sweatshirt sleeves over her fingers and crossing her arms over her chest. “I hate you.”

Harry smirks, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and kissing her head, his phone stuck in the front of his The Face sweatshirt that Amelie threw onto the bed for him to wear while he was sleeping. “No, you really don’t.”

“Welcome,” one flight attendant says through their mask, oblivious to the sexual tension spurring in between the freshly married couple and the way her hand was holding his simply to ensure that he wouldn’t squeeze her breast with his hand hanging limply over her shoulder.

Harry steps inside the row first, and Amelie knows why he’s hiding in the seat that would be the least likely to be seen by the flight attendants. Her head shakes with a sigh, heaving a breath and settling into the chair, giving a warning glance to him as his lips toy with a mischievous grin.

“Garder les mains pour soi.”

“Can’t keep m’hands to m’self for eleven hours,” Harry stresses, his cheek laying on her shoulder as he stares at her through hooded eyelids, the separator pushed away to allow him to cuddle into her, the way her nails are scratching at his scalp making him want her more.

“Harry, yes, you can,” Amelie says, knowing that Harry is trying to wear her down with the dramatic nature of the conversation. Her thighs are warm thinking about the adrenaline that would course through her veins by having sex where they very well shouldn’t be, but with the environment being heavily closed away from interaction, maybe this was just the right time to do so.

Amelie wouldn’t admit that to Harry, though. No. Because that means he won.

“Haven’t touched you in like, three days.”

“Because we had to get all of our things together, see our godchildren, and see my family. Not because I didn’t want to.”

“Alright, well, now we have eleven hours.”

Amelie sighs, carding her fingers through her hair and gently pulling out the tie in her curls and letting the baby pink fall over her shoulders. Through her peripheral vision, she can see Harry roll his eyes, trying to look away as she tugs on the sleeves on the sweatshirt, gently pulling the material away and leaving his eyes to bask over the loose-fitting shirt from his closet and her chest free from any restrictions.

“For fuck’s sake, Amelie,” Harry groans, sitting up and beginning to pull his mask away from his mouth, all the passengers boarded and the flight attendants beginning to go through the safety measures as he’s heard a million times before. “Did you not wear a bra, either?”

“Like you said, eleven hours,” she shrugs, a smirk playing at her lips as she set the sweatshirt over her thighs, dragging the blanket over her body, locking his hand between her legs.

“Know just how to get what you want, huh?”

“Maybe,” she hums, spreading her thighs the slightly amount to give him the ability to roam further across her skin. “Have had quite a few years of practice.”

Harry smirks, taking Amelie by surprise and sliding his hand beneath the waistband of her leggings, her thighs unable to be held together as his fingers drag slowly and teasingly across her mound. “About, five years, huh, baby?” Amelie gulps. “Don’t go quiet on me, now. Have had the wittiest comebacks for an hour and now you’re quiet?”

“Harry,” she says through a clenched jaw, trying her swallow back a moan as his fingers delicately trace along her core, arousal collecting on his fingertips as his finger draws over her clit lightly, barely touching her skin. “Either you do it or you don’t.”

“Do you want me to?” Harry smirks, lips ghosting across the shell of her ear and making her sink further into her seat, her thumb between her teeth as she nods shamelessly. “Amelie Fay, tell me what you want or I’m going to take my hand back.”

Harry rarely uses Amelie’s whole name. And by rarely, Amelie means that Harry only uses her whole name – first and middle – when they’re arguing and she won’t listen (which is most of the time) or they’re about to do something filthy and she won’t give verbal consent (which is most of the time they’re taking to exhibitionism). But whenever Harry uses it, fuck, it’s another type of sexy. His accent draws out every syllable, especially when he’s trying to use an accent that her mother has or it’s deeply his own.

Amelie sucks in a deep breath, trying to steady her breathing and not melt into the chair with the barely-there movements of his fingertips, his middle finger teasing her warmth by dipping in to collect more arousal over her clit. “Okay, okay.”

“Okay, what.”

“Need you to use your fingers,” she sighs, his fingers beginning to ease into her warmth and brush against the velvet that squeezes him in. “Fuck.”

“Be quiet,” Harry says strictly, his cheek laying on her shoulder and his lips touching the cut of her jaw. “Have barely touched you and you’re already squeezing me, doll. Maybe I should’ve tried a bit harder to get you into bed, hm? Have I been neglecting you? Horrible husband, you have.”

Harry and Amelie never could describe their sex life as neglected – certainly not that – but it definitely was not what it was when they first got married at the beginning of March. Harry and Amelie tiptoed around the subject because there were days when there was too much frustration to even think about getting naked and sharing their thoughts with the other person. That definitely isn’t what want they wanted, what they promised each other. And so, here they were, three months into the isolation and just being able to go home, and there was a desperation lingering between them that neither really knew was there. Getting comfortable was something they didn’t want, and that’s exactly what they did.

His fingers work at a speed that could only be described as desperate and longing. His thumb pressed against her clit with patterns that have her hips longing to writhe beneath him, his middle and third finger curling inside of her with every thrust, taking a second to ghost across the spot that would have her screaming inside their bedroom.

“Baby, please,” Amelie whimpers, tucking her face into his hair and breathing out through parted lips, squeezing her eyes shut as the flight attendant walks through the aisle, completely unsuspecting of what is happening beneath the linen. “Harry.”

“All over me, honey. Gi’ me all of it.”

Amelie tugs on Harry’s curls, earning a smirk and a grateful kiss, swallowing her moans as the orgasm ripples through her body. Her hands shaking as she grasps onto the blanket and her hot breaths hitting his neck. His hand is coated with her orgasm, his mouth watering at the thought of her taste on his tongue.

If Harry couldn’t go down on her, right now, this is the next best option.

“Get out the fruit and water from your bag.”

“Huh?” Amelie whispers, her eyes barely opening to try and read Harry’s expression. “For what?”

“For you to drink,” Harry smiles, kissing her hairline sweetly. “And so, I can stick my fingers in m’mouth and it won’t look like I just fucked you under the blanket.”

“Christ, Harry,” she mutters, rolling her eyes as he chuckles under his breath. “Do you realise you still have your fingers in me?”

“And?”

“Can’t lean over and grab everything with you puncturing my cervix.”

“Don’t flatter me that much, baby,” Harry quips, nodding towards the bag laying at her feet and gently tapping his thumb against her clit once more. “Already have a big head.”

“Hate you,” Amelie swallows, trying to control her breathing as she leans forward and reaches for her bag, Harry’s fingers wiggling inside her warmth. He is just as needy as she is, at the moment, except, Amelie would rather wait until they are home and can’t be caught. “Here.”

“But, baby, I know you don’t.” He chastely kisses her cheek, gently taking his fingers from her warmth and slowly removing his hand from her pants, pouting his lips, “My hand is cold, now.”

“Unfortunate,” she shrugs, taking a long sip from her water as his tongue licks along his palm, his two fingers suckled between his lips and tasting all that he’s missed in nearly four days. He isn’t used to going that long. Maybe, he’s a bit spoiled in that regard. Harry and Amelie are running on the same sex drive at all times. Call it inspirational in some respects. Amelie has found it quite useful in the exhibitions recently. Harry finds that flattering.

“Quit being a brat,” Harry teases, squeezing her knee over the blanket and standing on his feet, nodding towards the bathroom a few feet away. “Have to wash my hands. Got a bit messy.”

Amelie shakes her head, wiggling around in her seat and shrugging her sweatshirt over her torso, settling under the blanket and laying over the chair, waiting for Harry to get back and cuddle into. Harry smiles at the sight, wiping his hands over his sweatpants and manoeuvring around her legs and settling into his seat. His arms open wide, graciously accepting Amelie as she climbs over into his seat and lays in the reclined bed with him, tucking her face into his neck. “Hi.”

“Hi, Cherry.”

“Can’t wait to go home,” she whispers, yawning as his fingertips drag through her hair. “Miss home.”

“Know you do,” he says, kissing her temple and bringing the blanket tighter over her body. “Me too.”

“Need a really good night of sex, too. Or day. I’m not picky.”

Harry snorts, “Have our other nights not been satisfactory to you?”

“Always the best with you. Don’t worry,” Amelie smirks, kissing his jaw and breathing in his cologne. “Different when we’re home, though. Don’t care about anything or anyone. Can just do it wherever, whenever. Don’t have to worry about my parents or sister, or our friends coming and knocking on our door.”

“Love your sister,” Harry says, his voice hanging on the last word, “but she is the biggest cock block in the entire world.”

Amelie laughs so loudly into Harry’s chest that the flight attendant peers over his novel. “God, you’re right.”

“Need to just be alone with m’missus for a while.”

Her voice is quiet, once again, barely above a whisper as she begins to fall asleep nuzzled into his warmth. “Alright.”

His eyebrows furrow together in confusion. “No argument? No rebuttal?”

“Not today.”

Harry laughs breathily, shaking his head and kissing her hair, his hands dragging along her spine as she drifts asleep. He stays awake until nearly eleven, waking her to eat and watching a film on his phone until they’ve fallen back asleep together, only waking to the sound telling them to buckle their seatbelts and settle into landing. Harry can see the relief on Amelie’s face, the smile that sits permanently on her lips as the pilot welcomes them to England and Heathrow Airport.

Amelie nearly forgets their luggage when Harry pulls into the garage, rushing inside to see Tigger and breathe in the scent that is permanently a mark of their London home. He tugs in their bags, setting the mickey mouse printed luggage in the foyer and wrapping his arms around her waist, kissing her neck sweetly and nosing her hair away from her skin.

“Fuck, ’m happy to be home.”

“Know you are,” Harry smiles, gently biting her neck and licking over the red mark lingering on her skin. His hands squeeze her thighs, lifting her onto his hips and wrapping his arms under her ass, his eyes rolling as their cat begins to rub along his legs. “Not the time, Tigger.”

“He missed you.”

“Flattered, but not really the time. Quite missed shagging m’wife, so that’s the priority at the minute.”

“That sounds really sexy coming from your mouth,” Amelie hums, dragging her thumb over his plump lips.

“Hm?” Harry asks, carefully making his way up the stairs and shoving their bedroom door open, careful to make sure that their cat would not be in the way when the door closed behind him. He became way too good at carrying her up the stairs when they moved in two years ago.

“My wife.”

Harry snickers, walking straight into the bathroom and turning on the light with his elbow, setting Amelie on the counter and harshly pressing his lips to hers. “’s what you are, m’wife.”

“Can’t wait to have this on me,” Amelie smirks against his cheeks, her fingertips dragging along his beard as Harry tugs their sweatshirts and shirt off their bodies. “First place you’re going to have sex with me in our house is the shower.”

“Know you better than that to think you’ll let me on the clean sheets after we were just on a plane for twelve hours.”

Amelie giggles, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and tugging him into her, his arms circling her waist and his tongue tasting her lips, her tongue, her. “Know me well.”

“Hope so after five bloody years.”

“Go turn the water on.”

Harry nods eagerly, walking away and turning the water in the shower, the waterfall faucet sprinkling water over him as he tugs on his sweatpants tie. His head rolls back as two hands skirt along his naked torso, dancing dangerously close to where he wants them most, his cock already painfully hard between his thighs.

“Don’t tease me, now.”

“Am I not allowed to have a taste, either? ‘s been four days, remember?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Harry moans, squeezing his eyes shut as Amelie’s hands bring his sweatpants over his ass and thighs, her gently hand tugging teasingly over his shaft. “Get in the bloody shower, woman.”

Amelie laughs, taking Harry’s hand and stepping inside the shower, the steam already beginning to fog over the glass doors. His back hits the tile wall, a gasp leaving his lips as she sinks to the ground, her knees printed with the tile, her tongue dragging over the arousal wetting his tip. He moans, the sound spurring her on, his hand running through her hair as she wraps her fingers around his base and begins sucking on his cock, all of him surrounded by her tongue and her wet lips and her warmth.

His stomach tightens, nearly spilling his entire orgasm down her throat. His whimpers as she pulls away makes her laugh, his eyes barely open before he’s helping her stand and grabbing her thigh to wrap around his waist, his cock sliding deep inside her warmth without warning. Her forehead falls to his collarbone, the sensation overwhelming and deeply missed. Her nails dig into his shoulders, their kisses messy and sloppy as his thrust reaches every inch into her core, his thumb drawing shapes around her clit the way he knows she loves.

“Missed this so much,” Amelie moans, her fingers tugging at his curls and bringing his mouth to hers. “Can’t go that long again.”

“Fucking swear on m’life,” Harry grunts, the way his cock is driving into her making her lift onto her toes. “Gi’ me your leg.”

“Do you want to fall over?”

“Trust me.”

Amelie wraps her legs around Harry’s waist, sighing when her back hits the cold tile that is out of the water’s reach, a gasp leaving her lips as his shaft sits deeper inside her warmth.

Harry is grunting mercilessly into her neck, Amelie’s moans echoing inside the bathroom, and to anyone that doesn’t know them, they might have thought that they’d not seen each other for a month, maybe two, with how intense their orgasms spill onto each other. Her thighs shake around his waist, their orgasms dripping out of her and onto his legs as he holds her, making sure that she wouldn’t fall.

And their shower isn’t devoid of more touching and kissing, in fact, the water goes cold before they’re fully finished washing up and rinsing the shampoo and conditioner from their hair.

Harry watches Amelie change intensely, soaking in the way she’s never changed the way she looks in their time together – except for the new three tattoos – the way she’s never felt the need to. Harry adores every curve and tattoo and mark and dimple, especially when she’s naked and he’s touching her skin.

“Can you look away for maybe two seconds?”

“No,” Harry deadpans, laying his hands behind him on the bed, the towel still loosely covering his waist.

“Are you going to eat lunch with me?” Amelie wonders, tugging one of Harry’s old shirts on and sliding briefs onto her hips – he never wears them anyways.

“Think I need to go for a run, and then I’ll shower and come back and eat.”

“You want to go for a run? After a twelve-hour flight?”

“Need to otherwise you and me will be in that bed for the next twelve hours,” Harry says surely, taking a deep breath and nodding his already semi-hard cock between his thighs.

“For fuck’s sake,” Amelie breathes, shaking her head and walking to him on the bed. Her lips press against his chastely, once, then twice, smiling when he tugs her onto his chest, and they fall against the mattress.

“Love you.”

“Love you more. Go for your run. Think I can take, like, six hours in bed, with breaks, alright? I’m not a machine.”

“Ooh, a compromise.”

“Married men get three compromises a year, this is one.”

“Deal.”

[homerjacksons]

50 Questions Tag

I was tagged by @z-ukos x

1. what is the color of your hairbrush? black

2. name a food you never eat? oysters I guess. I can be picky but oysters are the only food I can think of that I’ll refuse to even try.

3. are you typically too warm or too cold? somehow both always

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? cleaning the washing machine filter lmao

5. what’s you’re favorite candy bar? kit-kat chunky

6. have you ever been to a professional sports game? I’ve been to a few AFL pre-season games but that’s about it lol.

7. what is the last thing you said out loud? “Good idea”

8. what is your favorite ice cream? hokey pokey

9. what was the last thing you had to drink? water

10. do you like your wallet? eh, I am indifferent.

11. what is the last thing you ate? breakfast which was yoghurt with home made oat clusters, blueberries, banana, almonds, shredded coconut, chia seeds and cinnamon

12. did you buy any new clothes last weekend? Nope

13. what’s the last sporting event you watched? I literally dunno. Probably an AFL game with my Dad but tbh I don’t think we watched the whole thing.

14. what is your favorite flavor of popcorn? butter

15. who is the last person you sent a text message to? my housemate, but if we’re including stuff like fb messenger which I use way more than texting, then my friend Rhys.

16. ever go camping? nope and i do not want to

17. do you take vitamins? nah but i used to

18. do you regularly attend a place of worship? nope

19. do you have a tan? lmao no i’m white as hell

20. do you prefer chinese or pizza? pizza

21. do you drink soda through a straw? i don’t really drink soda? but on the off-chance I do, then probably not? depends if it comes with a straw or not I guess

22. what color socks do you usually wear? I do not have a set colour. I have all the colours.

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? lol yes

24. what terrifies you? life, but also death

25. look to your left, what do you see? my bed side table with my phone, water bottle, lamp, rice crisps, nintendo switch, speakers, external hard drives, Maurice and Call Me By Your Name

26. what chore do you hate most? cleaning the bathrooooom. Specifically cleaning the shower. Like, I hate it in general, but it also always without fail makes my CFS flare up so there’s extra hatred.

27. what do you think of when you hear an australian accent? I don’t think much considering I am Australian?

28. what’s your favorite soda? solo or coke zero

29. do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? Usually go in but that’s cos I almost only have fast food when I’m on the road and I usually need to pee while I’m at it and take a break from driving lol

30. what’s your favorite number? 7

31. last person you talked to? my housemate (unless my cat counts)

32. favorite cut of beef? I don’t really like beef a whole lot but I use beef mince when making bolognese or lasagne or something so I guess that? Otherwise if I’m cooking with beef I use a cheap cut like chuck or gravy steaks and slow cook it.

33. last song you listend to? Only Angel by Harry Styles

34. last book you read? Last book I finished was Wayward Son by Rainbow Rowell. I’m currently reading Maurice.

35. favorite day of the week? they’re literally all the same to me at this point but I guess saturday cos I don’t have to work but then by monday I’m grateful for the work week cos my housemate’s at work and I have the house to myself *shrug*

36. can you say the alphabet backwards? not without thinking really hard about it

37. how do you like your coffe? made at a cafe lmao. cappuccino on soy.

38. favorite pair of shoes? my yellow vans

39. time you normally get up? uh...depends but usually around 9

40. what do you prefer sunrise or sunset? sunrise

41. how many blankets on your bed? technically two but one’s just folded up at the foot of my bed for my cat to sleep on (he never does - he always sleeps beside me)

42. describe your kitchen plates? black

43. describe your kitchen at the moment? relatively tidy except for the mass of tupperware containers of bakes goods on the counter cos my housemates birthday was the other day and cos of lockdown everyone either baked her something or ordered her food delivery lmao

44. do you have a favorite alcoholic drink? cider

45. do you play cards? not really? but I’m not against it?

46. what color is your car? very pale blue

47. can you change a tire? nope

48. your favorite state? this is definitely an American question isn’t it? My fav Aussie state would be Victoria except now we’re the shit state cos of covid.

49. favorite job you’ve had? I love my current job but I often really miss my first job which was an admin assistant for a facility management company lol. I don’t miss the reception part cos social anxiety, but I really loved all the paperwork idk. It was soothing.

50. tagging: @klausshargreves, @lionheartedghost, @stars-bean, @humanveil, @joesunflower

[sweetcatmintea]

Fairies again

Day two of @alexprompts‘s advent calendar. I got a little silly with this one XD Prolly to balance out the serious mood of something else I was working on. I hope you enjoy a night in a shack! Feedback keeps me writing is appreciated! 

Prompt: This lovely picture by @dmcoffee Words: 1029

Knock knock. “Trick or treaters! Open up please.”

“This is Australia. We don’t do Halloween.”

Hasty whispers and a disgruntled murmur of disappointment, but the visitors leave with little complaint. Shaking my head, I lean on the tin wall, sliding down to sit with my companion.

“Fairies?” He nods to the door. A formality really.

“Fairies.” Twelfth time today. I regret whatever action resulted in my turn to answer the door falling on today. At least they’re notoriously bad liars.

“Twelve is a magic number isn’t it? Maybe they’ll give up for the day.”

I can’t answer, interrupted by knocking anew. Sighing, I hoist myself onto my feet, peering through the peephole. Of course. About seven not-quite-children cluster around the shack. Limbs long, skinny, segmented, eyes too large, pointed ears. Disappointingly stereotypical fairies.

“Christmas carollers! Please open up and listen!” They chant together, high pitched voices like someone autotuned pikachu.

“It’s September! Christmas is months away.”

More whispers. “Christmas in September! We have a petition to make a new holiday! Would you like to sign?”

“No thank you.”

Another retreat. Please let this be the last one. Dropping back to the floor, I can’t help but laugh to myself. I’ll tell you one thing, if you asked my how I thought society as we knew it would end, I would not have guessed fairy apocalypse. At some point they realised they could run amuck in this realm since out manners and rules diverged enough from theirs we were left vulnerable to their mischief. Also, magic. The magic surprised a lot of people.

“What’s for dinner chef?” I nudge Samuel with an elbow. Pro tip: get stranded in a strange place with a good friend rather than a stranger. Skip the whole awkward ‘oh so what did you do before the fairies ruined your life’ thing. Samuel knows I did nothing. Easy.

He rummages through the food crate, tossing a packet of chips to me. “Aerated corn cylinders lightly powdered with a desiccated dairy sauce.

“Oh no, you don’t mean…” I’m afraid to see what’s in my hands.

“Yep. Cheezels.”

“Nooo.” I let out a low moan. “Maybe I’d be better off with the fairies.” Samuel ignores my groans. Why cheezels? They’re easily the worst kind of chip. Taco shells make better chips. Cracking the bag open, I can’t help but pout at the puff of fake cheese wafting out. Not to be dramatic, but this is really putting a downer on my apocalypse experience. What was with the shack’s previous owner’s obsession with terrible foods? I’ve had nothing to drink for the past week except long life almond milk. Almond! Not even cow milk? I’ll settle for soy, my standards are in tatters as it is. (Please rain soon) But nooo. Gotta have the Worst Foods Woolies no frills has to offer. I crunch sadly on a chip while Samuel rolls his eyes at my performance.

“They’d probably make you go to formal dances or whatever and spend two hours exchanging pleasantries and small talk before you even get to the hall. Is cake really worth that?” He pops a chip in his mouth, making a show of relishing in the flavour just to rub salt in my wounds.

“You make a compelling argument but consider this, it’s not whether cake is worth social suffering. It’s whether freedom is worth cheezel torture. I’m leaning towards nay.”

“Yeah, but you’ve already made it this far. If you give up now you’ll lose your self-set endurance contest.”

“True.” I point a cheezel ringed finger at him. “Maybe I can survive another night here.”

Nothing else to do, we sit and watch the universe move around us out the window. The milky way glitters proud and uncaring over the starry mountains beyond. At least we still have the moon. The winter sky is unbelievably clear out here. Ah the majesty of nature. Beauty at our fingertips, wonder greater than our imaginations. The living, breathing world just out the window. I miss anime.

A fire crackles in the middle of the room, smoke filtering out of the hundred and fifty-seven cracks and holes in the building. It’s doing its job though, keeping us warm as winter drags on. Technically we’re approaching spring, but we all know Australia has HOT or COLD, spring and autumn were made up by Starbucks to sell more seasonal drinks.

It’s not that the fairies are physically barred from coming in, just socially obligated to stay out unless invited in. They Bugs Bunnied themselves there. Fairies say squatters’ rights apparently so when we found this little old shack, all we had to do was close the door and live in it a few days. Then it was our space to the exclusion of all those uninvited.

Simple, I can hear you saying, just don’t invite them in! Yeah, no. You’re fairy bait now. Do you know how hard it is not to accidentally invite someone inside?? Say they come up and offer you a jam doughnut (man I want some good food) you say no thanks right? But then, say you’re feeling peevish and ask them to stop bothering you and they ask why. Bam! You’ve just fallen into a conversation! Now what? Do you think it’s good manners to hold conversations through the window? No. It’s not. You’ll have to invite them in to continue talking or they’ll storm the shack and magic you away for being rude. After they’re inside, then what? What are the details of the social contract engaged with in a shack that you’re squatting in? Don’t know? Me either. You see my dilemma now I hope.

“You’re getting all worked up. You’re slumpy.” Samuel jolts me with a poke to the ribs.

“Slumpy?”

“Yeah, sleep grumpy. Go to bed.”

“I am not.”

“You are. You were doing that thing with your face like you’re aggressively narrating your life’s struggles to an invisible audience.”

“That’s a very specific observation.”

“Are you denying it?”

“… No.”

He raises his brows at me.

“Fiine. I’ll head. Are you fine to keep watch?”

“Yeah. They don’t usually come out as much at night.”

“Coolio. See you tomorrow.”

—–

Tag list

@snobbysnekboi, @inkovert, @kainablue, @i-rove-rock-n-roll, and @goblin-writer

[artificialqueens]

Sweet Music Playing in the Dark: Ch.2- Lip and Cheek (Craquaria)- Dill

A/N: Hi guys! Here’s the second chapter for sweet music. This is my first smut attempt, so I hope it’s okay lol. I’m working on a few things at the moment that will slowly trickle out now that I’m done with school. You can find me on AO3 @drdill. Thanks for reading!

Summary: Soon Max will be moving to New York, and Gio interrogates Kevin to see if they could last.

“Come on, it’s totally Bill.”

Max stuffs another piece of sushi in his mouth, watching Mamma Mia! intensely on the television, knees to his chest on my couch.

“I don’t disagree, I’m just saying this all could’ve been avoided with a paternity test.”

“Don’t try to get technical with this masterpiece.”

“Fair enough,” I giggle. “I wouldn’t be mad if Sam proposed to me, though.”

“Well, obviously. He could get it any day of the week.” I choke on my water.

Earlier in the day, he knocked on my door, my sandals between his fingers and a smirk on his lips. Probably thinking my life is a mess, he asked me about my swollen knee and it turned into an hour of us drinking coffee at my kitchen table. Wanting to repay him for his hospitality the night prior, I suggested sushi and a cheesy film in sweats. From my obnoxiously loud ABBA jam-session in the morning that left “Dancing Queen” in his head for the rest of the day, he chose appropriately.

The final scene ends to the Netflix home screen and I start picking-up empty soy sauce packets.

“Sorry for getting wasabi on your couch,” Max says, standing up to help clean.

“Don’t worry about it. There’s been worse things on it,” I tell him with a wink, immediately ready to punch myself in the face. Why the fuck do I open my mouth? He just laughs and shakes his head.

“I’m not even gonna ask.”

We head back to the couch, sitting opposite, staring anywhere but directly at each other. He’s stretched out towards me while I sit cross-legged and hands in my lap. Seconds pass and we’re waiting for the other to initiate some form of conversation, resorting to him making a fun beat with his hands on the side of the couch and this thigh, and me bobbing my head and shimmying my shoulders. A laugh escapes me.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks me.

“I don’t know,” I say, fully honest. “Most weekends where I do nothing aren’t this fun.”

It feels like a first date- painfully hesitant. For the twenty-seven hours I’ve known him, he’s surely made an impact. Maybe I’m just desperate for the attention he’s giving, and maybe the feeling is mutual, but I’d rather be entangled in blind affection than ignorant to it.

“I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting to make a friend during my quick stay,” he tells me, “but I’m so glad you fell on that fire escape.” He chuckles when I roll my eyes and observe the bandages wrapped around my bruised knee.

“As embarrassing as that was, I guess the garlic bread was worth it,” I smile. He shifts positions and crosses his legs like me, moving close enough for our knees to touch.

“Since we’re sharing thoughts,” he says, “something’s been eating at me.”

“And what is that?” He sighs. “Last night, when you said goodbye, we shared a quick hug and you were gone.”

My lips are between my teeth, unsure which direction this could turn.

“When just hours before, you wanted to kiss me like it was nothing.”

Relief quenches me like a cool glass of water.

“Well,” I reply, leaning a bit closer, “I can tell you that it wasn’t nothing.”

“You don’t say?” His draws circles on my kneecap through my black joggers. I nod in response when he greets my eyes, leering.

Like muscle memory, we find ourselves in the same position as last night. This time, the puzzle pieces fit together, completing what could’ve been my evening departure. His lips are even softer than they look, sweet and tangy like the lemonade he sipped during the movie. I smell his aftershave on my next inhale before deepening our kiss, bunching his shirt in my hands and pushing him onto his back. Propped on my elbows, I drag my tongue over his bottom lip and reconnect to his mouth, full of paradise. He leisurely travels down my spine to my lower back. For the time being, it’s a musical rapture.

Then there’s an abrupt knock at my door.

It was maybe fifteen seconds. Fifteen seconds. I’m fuming, nostrils flared and eyes slowly shutting.

“The universe really doesn’t want this, huh?” he says with a sympathetic grin. I peck his lips before standing and unlocking the door.

Kevin greets me with a huge smile- of all the people to ruin our moment.

“Hi, honey.”

“Someone’s back early,” I say, moderately bothered.

“I really didn’t want to bother you, but I must’ve left my key at my sister’s and Max wasn’t answering his phone. Could I use your spare?”

“Hi, Kevin.” Max pokes his head from the couch.

“Maxie!! Y’all already met!?” He’s elated at the sight of his friend, which quickly turns to sheer panic. “Oh shit. Did I jus-”

“No, it’s fine. We were just hanging out. Being neighborly and all,” I say before Max can speak, unenthusiastic jazz hands to follow. Max’s face drops and nods.

“Yeah, I can let you back in. It’s pretty late anyway,” Max tells Kevin, hopping off the couch and standing next to me.

“Thanks for the sushi, Gio.” He goes for an awkward hug, an even worse ending than last night.

“Anytime.”

Kevin watches us stiffly before giving me a hug.

“You up for brunch tomorrow?” he asks me. I hide my irritation with a cheeky smile.

“Duh! Max will you still be around?” I must’ve caught him off-guard.

“Hm? Oh, yeah! Yeah I can come.” He’s flustered.

“Wonderful. See you guys tomorrow?”

“I’ll knock when we’re ready!” Kevin replies. He leads the way out of my apartment with Max.

“Bye-bye.” I shut the door and reflect. Of all the people to ruin our moment. I love Kevin. Typically he annoys me with bombarding my phone with texts, but this time, nothing- the one time I don’t get minute-by-minute updates on his train ride home. I throw myself on the empty bed, frustrated and lonely.

—-

*knock knock knock*

I grab my wallet and head for the door in white converse, rolled black shorts, and matching black tank top. In the hallway, Kevin’s alone wearing a coral v-neck with khaki shorts and flip flops.

“Where’s Max?” I ask.

“Bathroom. He should be out in a sec.” He looks down at my legs.

“What happened to your knee?”

“Oh, I just fell,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

With those words, Max opens the door in a navy button-up and flip flops, still drying his hands on his shorts. His hair for the past couple of days was fluffy and unkempt, curling on his forehead. Today, it’s tamed with some wax, swooped to the side, and absolutely delightful.

The restaurant is a few blocks from our building. We get a table, a few drinks, and discuss Kevin’s quick return.

“So, why’d you come back so early?” I ask, still annoyed with prior events. Max, sitting next to Kevin, gives me a smug look that he can’t see.

“I overestimated how much time I can handle them,” he cackles. “Also, my momma kept showing me photos of her church friends’ single daughters. The mothafuckin’ nerve!” I laugh and swirl my drink.

My favorite part of these brunch dates is when Kevin’s adorable Caribbean mother calls him while he tells me about his latest hookup (in too much detail), trying to play matchmaker after mass. He always exaggerates his workload to explain how he, the gayest person on this planet, doesn’t have time for a girlfriend.

“I still have no idea how she hasn’t figured it out yet,” I tell him.

“One of these days, I’ll probably get fed up and tell her. We’re getting close.”

“You should’ve just asked how their sons are doing,” Max says. Kevin howls as he takes a satisfying sip of his drink.

Our food comes a bit later and we continue catching up, Kevin and Max telling old stories from college in-between bites as I listen. The more they speak, the more I realize they are the exact same person in different bodies. It’s almost scary; from karaoke nights at a cheap dive bar near campus, to reenacting musicals in their apartment with friends, I’m surprised Kevin’s barely ever mentioned him to me.

Unintentionally, I keep staring at Max. No particular reason, just watching him: the way he eats his fries, talks with his hands, covers his mouth after laughing too hard. I become so fixated that whatever Kevin is babbling about turns inaudible- I just keep looking at the slight stubble poking through his chin that he scratches every so often, the scar on his right elbow when he props it on the table, even how he nods along to every word Kevin says. He’s a completely average guy, but I’m mesmerized by every small detail.

“Would you like some more water?” I’m snapped out of the trance by our waitress holding a metal pitcher in front of me.

“Oh, um, yes please.” She refills my glass and walks off.

“I’ll be back. I’m going to the bathroom.” Max stands up and goes away from the table. I catch myself staring again as he walks away until he turns a corner and is out of sight. Then, I’m greeted with a fresh pair of eyes from Kevin. With the coy glare, I think he’s connected the dots.

“What?”

“I know that look, G,” he replies.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Since when were tiny white guys your type?”

“Since Friday night.” Apparently, I’m ready to spill.

“I was wondering when you guys met. Y’all were pretty close last night.”

“We met completely on accident. I tripped on the fire escape steps and he helped clean the scrape, then asked me to stay for dinner.”

“I thought you ‘just fell.’” He’s using air quotes, taunting me from my previous answer.

“I didn’t lie.”

“Y’all were being more than neighborly last night, weren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I totally cock-blocked you, didn’t I?”

I’m silent and avoiding eye contact, causing him to go wide-eyed.

“Oh my GOD.” He slaps the table with every word, way too excited and causing patrons to stare. “I knew it!”

“Shh!” I’m attempting to contain his emotions, pinning his arms down on the table. When he finally cooperates, I speak softly.

“We almost kissed Friday night, and I redeemed myself yesterday until you just had to ruin it, bitch!”

“Well if I would’ve known my friends were fucking I wouldn’t have knocked!”

“We didn’t think you’d be home until Monday!”

“True,” he cackles. “I can’t believe you two were ready to hook up that quick. Max typically isn’t into hookups.”

“I can’t believe you barely talked about him with me!”

“I didn’t think you’d be interested!”

“Well, I wasn’t until he started acting all hospitable. He’s so nice.”

“You’re telling me! If he wasn’t a top that’s half of my size I would’ve married him by now.” The last sentence almost has my jaw in my lap.

“That man is a top?”

“You are such a whore.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I only speak facts, babe,” he winks. “But you didn’t hear it from me.” A sip of his mimosa and Max appears from the corner again, sitting down and returning to his meal.

“What’d I miss?” he asks. I shake my head.

“Nothing much.”

——

Evening rolls around and I run upstairs to check on my laundry. When I throw the load in the dryer and come back down, Max is standing in the hallway with his bags, placing his ticket in his jacket pocket.

“Leaving so soon?” I ask with a smile.

“Very late, actually. My flight leaves in two hours and I haven’t even called an Uber.”

“Oh, shit. I shouldn’t keep you then.” I reach in for a hug and he wraps his arms around me softly.

“Be safe heading back.”

“I will,” he tells me. “See you in a few weeks.”

With that, he gives me a cheeky grin and walks quickly down the hallway to the elevators where this mess started. I go back inside, a deep sigh following. What am I doing?

My conversation with Kevin this morning has stuck with me all day. I need more answers. Stepping onto the fire escape with a blunt, I tap on his window until the curtains draw back and he opens it.

“You rang?”

“I’ve got some questions.” He laughs and shakes his head.

“Me too. But keep it quick. Grandpa is getting tired.”

We sit down, feet dangling from the platform when I light the joint and taste it’s sourness. I pass it to Kevin.

“Before I start, can you promise to be as honest as possible?”

“Yes, Judge Judy.”

“Okay, good. You said he normally doesn’t do hookups, right?”

“Nope. He hasn’t been with someone since sophomore year.” That’s weird.

“Seriously?”

“Well, kind of. He had an on-and-off thing with this asshole named Jake until graduation that fucked with his psyche a lot. He’d leave Max every couple of months and come running back like nothing happened. I wanted to kill him, then Max for falling for his bullshit.” Kevin’s getting re-heated just by talking about it, taking multiple hits before passing the blunt back to me. “He cares so much, probably too much.” I nod along.

“Anyways,” he says, “How much have you seen each other while I’ve been gone?”

“Probably like ten hours total.”

“In two days?”

“Yeah?”

“Wow. What kind of social butterfly did Max turn into since I left the west coast?”

“He keeps to himself a lot?”

“All of the time. That’s why I was so shocked when you guys were hanging out together, let alone doing whatever that was when I knocked.”

“Calm down, we didn’t get anywhere when you interrupted,” I giggle.

He sighs. “I don’t know what you did to him, but he seems really interested in you. I asked him about the weekend after brunch, and he was floored about goddamn sushi and Mamma Mia!.”

“Did you consider my incredible charm and wit?” I smirk and nudge his shoulder, causing him to sway and laugh.

“I’m sure that’s what it was. Listen, as much fun as this is, I’m falling asleep out here.” “Fine. One last question.” “What is it?” “…can I have his number?” I ask bashfully.

“You mean to tell me that y’all were getting hot and heavy and didn’t even bother to get that on night one?!”

“It wasn’t the first thought in my mind when I climbed on top of him, bitch!” He rolls his eyes with a smile, takes out his phone, and sends me his contact information.

—-

I didn’t text him. The first man to give me attention for more than three hours to hook up, and I’m blowing it to smithereens because I’m too nervous to make the first move.

A few weeks have passed since he left for Seattle again. He’s probably moving in right now as I answer emails and procrastinate by looking at old looks from this year’s Met Gala. A camp aesthetic? My fucking dream. A message appears on my Mac from Kevin.

Do I have to do everything for this relationship to blossom?

I’m confused, until my phone starts buzzing. I reach into my pocket and see that it’s Max. Oops.

“Hello?”

“Gio?”

“Hey, Max.”

“Hi. Uh, Kevin gave me your number.” I chuckle.

“I figured. How’ve you been?” “I’m so sore. Kevin and I have been moving boxes and furniture all day.” “Why didn’t Kevin let me know sooner? I would’ve helped out,” I tell him as if I couldn’t text him for a month.

“Well, that’s actually why I called you. Kevin just left and I still have a lot of unpacking to do. Are you busy?”

Surprisingly, I actually do have plans. Some coworkers invited me out to drinks tonight because I was in the room as they discussed plans, but it’s not the first time I’ve bailed on them. They definitely won’t miss me.

“Not at all! Send me the address and I’ll be there soon.”

“You’re a lifesaver! I’ll text it to you now.”

“Alright, I’ll see you soon.”

He sends me the address and I get dressed to bare the Brooklyn heat. Before leaving, I text Kevin back:

I’m pulling my weight. Don’t worry ;)

—-

“How was the drive?” I’m helping him load plates and glass cups into his cabinets while he stands on a chair.

“Too fucking long,” he says, “It took me five days to get here, but I stayed with my friend Brian when I got to Milwaukee, then Tony in Chicago. Every other place was just some crappy motel and a prayer that I wouldn’t get bed bugs.” I snicker at the last comment.

“At least you get to sleep in your own bed tonight.” “Yeah, finally.”

We finish putting away every bowl, spoon, and rubber spatula he brought and break down the boxes for the trash. His living room is barren besides a bunch of bubble wrap and tape lining the lightwood floor and an empty bookcase with hundreds of novels on the floor next to it. It smells like an old bookstore- the sunset bleeds through and highlights every dust particle floating around the room. Max stands by the small island in the kitchen, hands on his hips. He’s glowing, arms and face golden before the sun falls over a building and everything turns gray. Clearly exhausted, he gives me a smile and a look that begs us to return to the mess tomorrow.

“Welcome to New York.” I mirror his smile and pull him into a hug. He sways us back and forth in absolute fervor, dancing in my arms.

“We need to celebrate. Grab the wine in the fridge.”

As I get the bottle, which is the only thing in his fridge, he greets me with two coffee mugs- the Seattle skyline painted across both.

“The wine glasses must’ve been in a different box,” he says, a giant grin plastered on his face. “My mom made these.”

“Classy,” I smirk.

He follows behind with the bottle opener as I sit against the white wall, legs crossed and scrolling through his laptop’s music library. After uncorking, he pours almost full cups for the both of us, and slides down the wall next to me, moonlight from the window striking his leg as he stretches. To go with some acoustics, I jokingly search-up a Yule log video for mood lighting. He laughs and rolls his eyes watching the crackling embers on his computer screen.

“Dumb ass,” he whispers under his breath before raising his mug toward me. I do the same.

“To crushed dreams and expensive rent!”

“L'chaim!” I reply. We clash our drinks together and sip occasionally. I’m relieved he bought sweet wine this time, watching dusk swallow the sky.

Through fifteen minutes, radio silence. His shirt reflects a light orange from the fake flames, darkness encapsulating the living room. My head rests on the wall, eyes shut and feeling Max bobbing to the music every once in a while, silently pouring more wine into our mugs. No moments on my own fire escape have felt so peaceful, especially when the next song plays:

If you were falling,

Then I would catch you.

You need a light,

I’d find a match.

Max starts quietly humming the chorus, swaying back and forth with his eyes closed. I silently laugh when our arms brush against one another.

‘Cause I love the way you say good morning,

And you take me the way I am.

Eventually, his head softly lands on my shoulder as it did so perfectly weeks before. I hide the smile forming on my lips, slowly inching my fingers. Reaching his hand on the floor, they playfully dance on his knuckles before intertwining, giving a gentle squeeze.

I feel his prickly cheek glide across my skin until his lips connect, placing delicate kisses from my shoulder to collar bone. The sensation causes the hairs on my arm to stand, a deep sigh escaping. He continues sprinkling soft pecks along the area, using a finger to move the strap of my tank top and grazing my slicked, bare chest. My hand detaches from his and relocates to the side of his jaw, thumb tracing as he squeezes my thigh. I lean my head back in satisfaction, hungry for any contact, and he wastes no time moving off the wall and attacking my neck with more aggression. The suction tingles as his tongue soothes the spaces he bruises, his hand traveling up my thigh, nearly at my crotch. I can smell the wine in his breath.

“M-Max…” I’m barely making words. He raises a single finger and lightly drags my lips, silencing me. His control may be rousing, but I’m tired of waiting.

Growing impatient, I reach under his thigh and pull him towards me. His leg swings across and straddles my lap- I immediately feel his growing harness as he grips my cheeks. Thousands of fireworks go off in my head as I finally taste his lips on mine. It’s sour and velvety, our noses smash together upon impact, tongues sloppily discovering rhythm. Our music has been drowned by deep exhales and the fabric of our shorts at the slightest friction. I take his bottom lip between my teeth, eliciting a moan when our mouths reconnect. My arms pull him closer to make sure this isn’t some painful dream, teeth clashing and steadily rolling my hips. I reach under his shirt, outlining every back muscle during the passionate exchange. Without missing a beat, he starts lifting the white fabric, revealing his lightly-toned torso and prominent v-line. He smirks as my eyes grow wide, unsure of what I was expecting, and finds my lips again before tossing it near some boxes. I shut the laptop and wrap my arms around him once more.

After several minutes, we relax and catch our breath, still firmly attached with his arms around my neck and mine on his waist. He pulls me close, fingers lost in my hair with my head at his chest. I kiss his sternum as he controls his breathing.

“Took us long enough,” he smirks. I smile and place another kiss on his salty skin.

Looking up from his embrace, his face is shining, beads of sweat forming at his hairline with his mouth agape, forming a light smile. Standing slowly, he extends his hand, head motioning to the bedroom. I graciously accept as he helps me up and leads to the door- a quick admiration for his shoulder muscles and notice of a weird tattoo I’ll ask about later. We have more important plans.

The door shuts behind us and I can only see silhouettes, nightfall and car headlights pouring through the two windows near his bed. Barely in the room, I ditch my tank top on the floor and grab his waist from behind. His neck cranes back as I bruise the porcelain skin, fingers tracing up and down my arm. I feel his chin on my cheek and I lift my head, tenderly greeted by his lips. My hands drop to his hips, fingertips progressing to his stark erection as I stroke it’s length. Eagerly, he takes my wrist and moves it to his waistband, to which I duck underneath and grab his cock, thumbing the head and spreading the precum before pleasuring him.

“Oh my God,” he severs from my lips, groaning and grasping my neck hairs hard as I revert focus to his shoulder.

“I’ve been dreaming about you,” I whisper, my hand moves up and down excruciatingly slow, teasing something that’s been built-up for a month.

“Th-that makes two of us.” He stutters, breathing deeply as I continue to stroke his shaft.

“Show me,” I simper and bite his earlobe, my free hand rubbing his chest. With those words, his hands reach behind to grab my shorts at the waist and yank them to my thighs. He stops my action by turning around to face me, pulling the minimal clothing off of my body, exposing my erection. Kneeling before me, he places a chaste kiss on my inner thigh, dangerously close, before pushing me toward the bed.

My legs hit the sides of the mattress and cause me to sit close to the edge. Max travels down from my collar bones to my navel, lips and tongue blessing my torso as my fingers comb his hair when he falls back to his knees. He licks from base to head, swirling his tongue before taking me in his mouth. I’m brought to my elbows in luxury, relishing in his skill. His hand works in tandem on my shaft while the other grips my thigh.

Holy shit.

It doesn’t take long before I’m encapsulated- euphoric moans escape, head thrown back when he takes the entire length to the back of his throat and gags. My body starts to twitch, knowing I’m getting close. Sitting up, I place my hand at his cheek, slowing his pace to a halt, chocolate eyes dark with passion, skin waxen and pale blue in the moonlight, almost angelic.

I meet him halfway with my lips, salty and wet, finally pulling his shorts and underwear down. He steps out of this clothes and I scoot farther onto the bed when he climbs over me again and sloppily kisses my mouth. We roll around the pale cotton sheets, savoring the embrace and caressing each other’s bodies. Laying on our sides, his hand travels down my back and hastily grabs my ass, slapping it when he makes contact. My breath hitches- it burns in the best way possible. His stomach is warm against mine, legs intertwined with sensual murmurs filling the air.

“Fuck me,” I mumble against his lips. “Please.” Our kissing stops and he meets my eyes.

“Are you sure?”

I nod, giving him a quick peck, a grin forming on his lips.

He quickly slides off the bed while I move closer to the pillows. Rummaging through a bag close to the bathroom, he pulls out a condom and some lube and walks over to me, body shining from perspiration. A loud snap and the cap pops open, the sticky liquid coating his fingers before he sits in between my legs. I’m already balling the sheets in my hands, licking my lips and anticipating to crumble at his touch. His cold middle finger teases my entrance. It’s tingling, almost painful with build-up. There’s a sharp sting when he enters one finger, pumping slowly with his other hand tracing my abdomen. I sigh in relief at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut. He introduces a second finger, leaning down and peppering my hips with kisses, arm moving faster and faster within me. My chest jolts at his fingers dancing atop my rib cage and reaching my jaw, his thumb outlining my bottom lip. To his surprise, I take it in my mouth and begin to suck lightly

“Fuck,” is all he can breathe as I moan onto his finger. Eventually, he slows his pace before removing his fingers, eliciting a whimper from me and a smirk from him. I hear the crinkling of the condom wrapper as he tears it open and slides it over his cock. Propped on his arms at my sides, he leaves me with a glossy stare before settling back on his knees and grabbing my thighs.

The head grazes over my entrance until he thrusts idly about halfway. My knuckles turn white, clutching the bedding and hissing as I get used to the pressure. In a couple of movements, we groan in unison when he’s fully inside me. It feels like a bolt of electricity shooting through my veins at the sensation. He quickens the pace with each advance, holding my waist tightly.

I can barely see his face, making out small details: a single hair is curled on his forehead, brows furrowed close together, an expression of pure zeal in his eyes and mouth. My legs wrap around his hips and he balances over me, arms by my ears and chests becoming parallel, sweat exchanging when they graze each other.

I’m becoming overstimulated, grunting with every one of his thrusts, face turning red. I start shivering, getting close and panting. Stroking myself quickly, my back arches as beads of white coat his chest and drip onto my stomach. I collapse underneath him. Max’s hands find mine among the chaos and bring them over my head, interlocking fingers as he groans into my shoulder.

In a short moment, his body begins to contort. I feel the warmth inside me when he exhales loudly and finishes, arms wobbling and fighting to keep him up.

——

We lay in our sweat. The only sounds I can hear are our heartbeats and Max’s deep breaths next to me. I’m on my side with my arm draped over his chest while he scratches the back of my neck. He kisses my forehead softly before pushing himself off the bed and walking to the bathroom. The light he turns on blinds me when I roll over. Shielding my eyes, he comes back with a damp washcloth, wiping himself before handing it to me and climbing back into bed, examining the contusions blanketing my throat and chest. I toss the towel on the floor.

“You’re incredible.” Max’s first words to me after everything are as soft as every kiss he leaves on my hand and knuckles. If I weren’t drained, I’d pin him back down and show my appreciation, but instead I turn back to my side and lazily embrace him as we lock lips for the millionth time. I don’t want this night to end, but my head aches for sleep and he breaks to yawn. His head drops to the pillow, arm still around me with the other on his rib cage. My body curls into his, falling fast asleep.

He cares too much, but so do I, and I think we’ll be okay with that.

[theinvisiblemonsters]

that’s-a spicy memeball 2k18

tagged by: kat @theotokosi 

nickname: Julie, the short version of my name. lele to my extended family, because I’m the second Julieanna in my family and they need something else to call me. two-two to my immediate family, because I was born on 2/22. my mom has also started calling me “Ju” lately, but I Am Not Into That Shit

height: 5′2″ ish

time: 9:40 pm

favorite band/artist: Johnny Flynn, my beloved royal Medieval bard who is adequately revering of women and very bad at keeping his Illegal Catholicism a secret. second favorite is Andy Hull, because I love me some self-critical bisexual men complaining into a microphone

art-artists: edward gorey. we’re both asexual pieces of nihilistic, discomforting emo trash born on feb. 22nd, but like. a hundred years apart.

song currently stuck in my head: *to the tune of “Fly” by Sugar Gay Leonard* IIIIIIIII just wanna die

last film i saw: Christmas in the Smokies, because I am trying to watch as many shitty Christmas movies as I can to will myself into the holiday spirit

last thing i googled: what the name of the “I Just Wanna Fly” song is and who sings it. I thought it was R. Kelly. I am a fool.

why i chose my url: honestly, i got the idea from the Palahnuik book, but i didn’t name myself after it (i really don’t even like that book.) i picked it because it’s like a ~metaphor~ for anxiety, flaws, thoughts, etc.

other blogs: 10 years ago someone made me a mod of a Brandon Boyd fan blog @locaxbrandonboyd and even though i haven’t posted onto it for probably 8 years and i am considerably less interested in Mr. Boyd, i’m still technically a mod. i don’t know how to remove myself and, at this point, i don’t know if i want to. who am i if i am not a very shitty locamenteBrandonBoyd mod?

do i get asks: sometimes, but not often. my friends and mutuals usually just message me.

following: 65, most of whom i consider friends who just post their own things and i love and support them! and we’re friends so we usually have the same interests anyway! a couple of people who i just enjoy the content of. a few inactive blogs i forgot to unfollow. handful of content creators and asexual support blogs.

what am i wearing: denim Tom’s flats that i found in the garbage, black high-waisted button fly skinny jeans, old baggy gray shirt that has ‘los angeles vintage co. & dry goods’ written in faded western font. a pumpkin colored army jacket with a pin that says “grody to the max.”

dream job: screenwriter, ideally an auteur a la Cohen Brothers or Sophia Coppola but I am entirely not privileged or white enough. i wanna specialize in female-led nuevo westerns with heavy symbolism and MISE-EN-PLACE. otherwise, i’d settle for contracted work along with script supervising, script editing, anything that means i work with a script and actually make money that buys more than beans and rice and a hotel room.

dream trip: being able to afford traveling is literally so far from my grasp that i’ve never really considered the “ideal” trip, but i guess maybe a really fancy, really long Disney cruise? that would be cool. or a year-long road trip where i can visit every single state and stay in each for a couple of days. america is so fucking big and i wanna pee on the ground in every state.

favorite food: curry, specifically butter or tikka masala sauces but i will literally accept any curry. i also love eggs and flour tortillas scrambled together, with or without soy chorizo. hong kong style chow mein. cheese and pineapple pizza with extra extra sauce and pan crust. just plain old baguettes. tamales. my secret recipe vegetarian dirty rice.

play any instruments: i’ve tried, but my dyscalculia makes it basically impossible. i’m able to play the first half of “what do you do with a drunken sailor” on a mini-accordion over and over and over to annoy my sister, but otherwise, i’m balls.

hair color: i guess like a dark auburn? it’s dark brown but it has red highlights.

languages spoken: i have a working understanding of speaking and listening to english, but i do a lot better with written. i can carry a conversation in ASL, but i wouldn’t call myself fluent. i also know a very small amount of german and french, and an even smaller amount of chata (which is pretty similar to other muskogee languages)

random fact: i honestly cannot stand puppies. i have helped raise over 100 puppies from newborn to full grown dog and i can not STAND them. they are the worst. i much prefer full grown dogs, and even those are on thin fucking ice.

describe myself as aesthetics: bitten down fingernails, dirty bare feet hanging out of the car window, a sleeping kitten tucked into a denim jacket, annie oakley in a full victorian dress aiming her rifle, a little girl playing barefoot in an overgrown field in front of a decaying barn, a sea cave filled with rotting seaweed and broken mussel shells and sea glass, fog at 2 in the morning, bare feet dangling from somewhere up in the trees, a wooded path that’s perpetually dark and covered with rotting leaves and mountain misery, dusty boots and fraying jean hems, a woman’s hands tossing wood into a fire

most iconic song: hiT OR MISS I BET YA NEVER MISS HUH yooooou gOt A bOYFRIEND I BET HE DOESN’T KISS YAAAA

i tag @thortisgodofthundpurr and @ufocafe  

[canaryatlaw]

OKAY so today was a lot of course. I had my alarm set for fucking 3:45 am but OF COURSE kitty decided to jump on me at precisely 3:31 am and I was like really kitty?? really???? that she proceeded to bite things while I tried to lay down for ten more minutes until I just kicked her out of the room, then sorrowfully dragged my ass out of bed when my alarm went off. Didn’t have to do much to get ready of course so I was good to go by 4, went on uber and put the first stop as Jess’ place so we could pick her up then to the airport, and so we did. the airport was fairly chill lol nobody all that awake since it was like 4:45 am. we needed caffeine so we did a fairly ridiculous starbucks order (and by that I mean I goaded Jess into ordering a soy chai with two espresso shots which they then made as a soy chai with three espresso shots and I was so thrilled with myself) then walked down to the gate. We waited like 20 minutes or so till we started boarding. Jess SOMEHOW managed to get upgraded to “comfort plus” which is coach but slightly less shitty, so she got to be like 3 rows ahead of me while I was in coach with the commoners. Apparently they gave her bananas and several snack choices, whereas when they handed me a cranberry almond breakfast bar and I was like “do you have anything that doesn’t have nuts in it?” they were like “no” which made me want to pretend I was allergic to nuts and write to delta complaining about this. but during the actual plane ride I spent most of it reading the complaint I got yesterday about the torts issues I forget if I talked about this or not?? I’ll get to it at some point lol. I got sorta sleepy at the end and was kinda fading in and out of sleep when we landed. Upon landing we found my bag rather easily, then went on a wild goose chase trying to find where you can get to the ubers, then was like oh fuck that’s a really expensive uber but guess we don’t really have any other choice??? so we took our really expensive uber over through manhattan to where our airbnb is in “West New York” New Jersey, because staying in Manhattan is like upwards of $250 per night and that’s not happening. so we’re in a bedroom of an apartment which is fine. we got changed and then took another uber over to where NYCC actually is, which got caught in traffic around like construction getting out of new jersey and took forever. but THEN we got to the con center. it’s huge, of course. Oh, we’re cosplaying Gary and Ava, last minute change from our Riverdale plans because Jess wanted to be able to carry her Beebo around all day and I hear that was a massive hit. So she got a signing with the Titans cast at like 1:15, so we walked around a bit and then I went to get food because I hadn’t eaten since 5 am starbucks because I wasn’t seated on the nice section of the plane, so I went out to the food trucks and waited in a very long line for some second rate mac and cheese from a food truck (I was disappointed) while Jess got to go to her lovely signing. then I ate the food, then I went to the bathroom which also had a long line and tried to make the wig that I hate look semi-decent and idk if it worked, but then Jess was done so I tried to guide her to where I was and just ended up going to find her anyway. Once we were reunited we went through the show floor for a while, then the artist alley, and this was about the point where Facebook informed me they reached a verdict in the Laquan McDonald murder trial for former Chicago police officer Jason Van Dyke. Imma go off on a bit of a thing here, but like, you cannot underestimate how much this case has effected the public to police relations in Chicago. Basically, short story, a white cop shot and killed a black teenager (who happened to be a foster child, which I know because people I worked with knew him) when there are like 7 other cops on the scene and right away goes on the record saying Laquan lunged at him with a knife so he had to shoot him in self-defense, and the other cops on the scene all backed up his story. Case closed, right? It would’ve been if a certain dashboard camera hadn’t surfaced with the entire incident on video with Laquan walking AWAY from Van Dyke and Van Dyke just shooting him in cold blood, and every. single. officer. on the scene lied to protect him. like, if that isn’t a gigantic message to minority communities that they can't trust the police, idk what is. But that was 2014, it took them a full year to release the video and finally bring charges, and up till now that they actually tried him. I’ve been following the trial fairly closely thanks to a podcast called 16 Shots (oh yeah, did I forget to mention that Van Dyke put 16 bullets in this 17 year old foster child?) which had been recapping the court coverage every day. At first hearing the jury had a verdict after about a day and a half of deliberation, I felt kinda worried because it felt to me like it would take more than that to convict a cop of first degree murder. the outcome though was one I was halfway expecting, they convicted him of second degree murder, which is known as a lesser-included offense, meaning it’s something the jury can decide on if they don’t feel like the full charge is warranted but he’s not innocent either. second degree murder in this case is following the imperfect self-defense rule, which is when a person believes that they need to kill the other person in self-defense, but that belief was unreasonable (whereas a reasonable belief would potentially get you acquitted). So I wasn’t terribly shocked when the verdict came back with that. The interesting part for me at least ended up being that they convicted him of 16 counts of aggravated battery (one for each shot) and that has sparked some conversations among law students/lawyers on my page as to whether those sentences would run consecutively or concurrently, because if it’s the former he may very well die in prison, being as the mandatory minimum on the charge is 6 years (which would place him at a total of 96 years, on top of the murder sentence) so we’ll have to see how sentencing plays out. but of course they immediately revoked his bail and he’s sitting in prison tonight, the first of many nights to come, and that is at least some justice to what has been such a divisive incident, even when I personally feel like there were enough aspects of premeditation (such as before he got to the scene hearing what the cops were saying and remarking “I guess we have to shoot him then”) to warrant first degree murder. but anyway, back to con world. we walked through artist alley for a bit and then ended up meeting up with a new friend who is gonna be one of the co-hosts with Jess and I on the upcoming Batwoman podcast, so we just sat and chilled for a while to talk and get to know each other and it went really well! So I’m definitely looking forward to that adventure. After that we wandered the show floor some more until it was 4:30 and I could line up for my funko buying slot. they have a lottery to be able to purchase any of the NYCC exclusive funko pops, and if you get a slot you can purchase them but only one of each type. At first the booth was kinda a mess and there was like a huge people traffic jam but I waded through it and found the actual line. I ended up talking to this kid behind me who was from Scotland who was pretty nice (I say kid because I was like “you’re a baby right?” and he was like “well I’m about to turn 21″ and I was like “yeah that’s what I thought” 😂😂) but we just talked about the pops and the options and some of the shows, so that was nice. he ended up buying like 21 of them I think because he was bringing a bunch home to different friends. I ended up buying four, killer frost for a friend, the Supergirl one that I may or may not resell at some point, Aquaman just because I wanted him, and one of the characters from New Girl for Jess because the main character is named Jess and she has a friend (”friend”) with the characters name so she really wanted that. the line took a bit but once we got up to the counter they were super quick. they then proceeded to give me the biggest bag known to man, made out of those like reusable shopping bag material but like, maybe about 4 feet by 4 feet in height and length? it’s fucking huge lol. but after that I met back up with Jess and we headed out, ended up taking the subway one stop up to times square just because we weren’t sure if the neighborhoods we would have to walk through if we did walk would be safe. Once we got there we needed food so I suggested Juniors because I always end up there and they haven’t let me down once. I of course got my favorite matzo ball soup and a potato pancake, and it was lovely as always. After we finished dinner we walked up to where the theatre was and got in line for the very first preview of King Kong, the broadway musical. We had seen the theatre marquee for it back in July when we saw mean girls (which was right around the corner) and Jess really wanted to see it, and it just so happened to start while we were already gonna be in NY so clearly that was fate. So we lined up, the opened the theatre a little earlier than usual so we got to our seats and waited for a bit. Now of course, as an actor and someone with a degree in Theatre, I automatically analyze just about every element of a show, whether I’m trying to or not. I basically expected it to be a dumpster fire, and there were definitely some cringeworthy moments, but they were fewer than I expected. I of course expected the technical elements to be phenomenal and absolutely groundbreaking as far as broadway goes because this has definitely never been done up till this point and they absolutely nailed every element of the technical side of things. Sadly what was lacking was what would classify as the heart and soul of any broadway musical- the book and the score. It reminded me a lot of Spider-Man: TOTD in that they invested heavily in technical elements but lacked in actual story and musical quality. I will say, the lead woman absolutely carried the show, and she was fucking phenomenal, so I will definitely give her credit for that. Now I haven’t actually seen the old movie from he 30′s that this was based on so I can’t say for sure, but I don’t believe the character of Ann Darrow was originally a POC, so I liked that they went in that direction. but as far as music goes, I can recall like, maybe a few words and a few stanzas of music, but the rest of it was very forgettable. again, though, the technical elements were absolutely phenomenal. So they definitely get credit for that. I couldn't help but thinking man, they’re gonna sweep on those technical effects Tonys they never actually air on tv 😂😂😂. I feel like the appeal is very similar to spider-man as well, and their main patrons are gonna be tourists, which I mean is a fairly good model to work off in NYC, so I predict it’ll run for a few years then quietly disappear, and not many will miss it. so when it was over we got an uber back to our airbnb, showered and got ready for bed and now I’m here and OY am I tired as I’m sure you could assume from the beginning of this post, but consider this me signing off for now. Goodnight loves. Happy weekend.

[notesfromthefielddesk]

Episode 2 - E.E. Evans Pritchard

Episode link - https://open.spotify.com/episode/0LqJQ1q2kv5utkoct7V8Cg?si=485ef5c24837440e

John

I’m looking out over the plains of what was once Nuerland. The heavy clay earth is broken apart by the relentless sun. Deep cracks and the threaded depressions of rivers which rarely fill, even in the rainy season, are the only features on the dead flat, almost alien landscape. Around me cattle rest on the slightly (We hear gentle mooing) elevated sandy spot I found for my desk. From here I can see clear to the horizon where I spot sporadic patches of trees but all other greenery has browned and died back months ago. What these cows are living off is beyond me.

In years past the sodden clay retained water allowing certain plants to survive through the dry months. When the rain came this whole plain would be covered in grass reaching over my head as I sit behind my desk. Near the rivers edge they’d reach up to my shoulders even when standing. The rivers would fill then overflow making the whole plain a marshy swamp. At times like those this sandy mound would be prime real-estate and i’d be sharing space with far more cows.

Nowadays, this is South Sudan. The rainy season has become more sporadic and unpredictable. Often the relief of rains arrival is followed - shortly - by overwhelming flooding. Right now people are still waiting on that rain.

(we hear the wind starting to pick up)

The wind is picking up. A cloud of dust is rising on the plain. The horizon, with it’s sporadic trees and the cracked earth disappear from view behind a wall of air thick with clay. I can see about two cows away. Out of the dust emerges a figure. They’re walking towards me.

This is notes from the field desk.

Theme

oh! you. Look after what you told me in Papua new guinea I don’t think we should be talking. What are you doing here anyway? -

what do you mean am I following you? I am here by chance. My flight back to London from Brisbane got diverted because of technical fault with the plane and we landed in Juba. So there is no way I could have followed you here. If anything you’re probably followed me!

(sigh) Fine, I suppose there is no harm in you sitting here. There’s a tree stump just there you can listen to me record if you want. That is if you’re not busy organising a coup or whatever.

Anyway, when we got grounded in Juba I had a look through my collection. Oh, I should explain, I travel with a trunk of the one hundred most influential ethnographies, that’s what we call the books anthropologists write.

Side note, I never thought the trunk would be a problem, in all these Ethnographies they talk about getting porters to carry all their stuff, but when I asked at the airport for a porter, they just laughed at me?

Anyway, we were grounded a while before they cancelled the flight. So I had a look and it turns out another anthropological founding father did research in South Sudan. E.E.Evans-Pritchard. Or as I call him EEEE Pritchard. Okay well look, I don’t even want you to find my jokes funny so you just sit there rolling your eyes all you want.

Evans-Pritchard was a student of Malinowski at LSE and in the late 1920’s he set out for what was then Anglo-Egyptian Sudan. He wrote a couple of Ethnographies about the Azande which mostly focused on magic, kind of an obsession with early anthropologists. Then he headed south in 1930 to do research on the Nuer, which focused mostly on politics. A good hard subject we can get our teeth into! Anglo-Egyptian Sudan came Sudan in 1956, then split into the mostly Muslim North and mostly Christian South in 2011. Then in 2021 I arrived to do some peer-reviewing. I’m hoping Evan’s Pritchard is a bit less of a controversial figure so my students will get off my back.

(phone rings) ignore that, i’m ignoring, that’s nothing.

(Clearly still flustered) Okay, last time, we talked about the two sides of anthropology, the field and the desk. If Malinowski represents the innovation of field, you know participating in society, going native, spending years in the field. Then Evans-Pritchard is the OG anthropologist who developed the desk. Anthropology trades on being able to create a sense of being there through vivd description, where Malinowski could be a bit stiff and scientific Evans-Pritchard had a bit of flare with his flowing prose.

Is that cow looking at me? That one there with huge horns. I swear to god it’s looking at me.

Anyway, EP, I like calling him EP when I do he feels like a friend. (clear throat) He made drawings, he took tonnes of pictures, he described the plains, some of his diary crept into the ethnography. No racism as far as I could tell but He talks about being frustrated, he shows his work. A move towards modern anthropology. So reading his The Nuer, which is the ethnography he wrote about this region, is really like the experience of being here. Way less of a slog than boring old Malinowski.

(Email Chime)

Ohh an email, do you mind if I just check this? I just got assigned a student whose thesis i’m supervising. Very exciting. Shaping the next generation of anthropologists and all that.

okay, here we go.

“Dear Professor Johnson”

Not a professor but i’m quite pleased with that.

“I discussed briefly with Susan, uh-huh, during the introduction lecture that I’d be interested in researching the club scene, queer identity and youth in London. I’ve been reading tony Adams and Stacy Holman Jones on Auto-ethnography and that’s inspired me to try it myself. If you could point me in the direction of some readings to get myself started with.

All the best,”

I’ll leave their name out of it, bit of privacy. Hmm well i’m not sure about that. I mean really ethnography should be done in a rural place, not the city, should they even be doing research in the UK? This is anthropology not sociology. Plus auto-ethnography? I’ve never heard of it but we’re supposed to be studying the other not ourselves, this isn’t psychology. Hmm well I need to think about a reply, don’t want to stamp on the young fellows aspirations but he needs setting straight.

What is that cow doing. Is it - it’s coming over here isn’t it. Shoo, shoo! it’s licking me. Do something don’t just laugh. No do not nibble my suit! Argh. This suit cost a lot of money cow! Get off me. Shoo. Fine, i’m getting up. it’s your desk now!

Go on get out of here!

You know what happens now because you wouldn’t help me? We’re going to talk about theory. Yes groan away, there isn’t even a sea for you to paddle in this time so I guess you’ll just have to sit down there with the cows and listen.

This book actually is mostly about cows. All three hundred pages of it, I don’t think there is a single sentence that doesn’t mention cows or cattle or I don’t know bovine. I mean I like cows as much as the next englishman but it’s not exactly thrilling. But in fairness to Evans-Pritchard the Nuer didn’t exactly give him a choice. He said that

“whatever subject I would start on, and approaching it from whatever angle, we would soon be speaking of cows and oxen, heifers and steers, rams and sheep, hegoats and she-goats, calves and lambs and kids.”

Basically the Nuer loved cows. He said this fact was the underlying structure of Nuer society. So everything in Nuer society comes back to cows. Love, war, religion, politics, it was all about cows.

Our boy EP is a structural functionalist, - look the terms are important so just get used to it - meaning he thought there are underlying structures to all societies, that cause us to behave in a certain ways. Where Malinowski and functionalism thought post hoc ergo propter hoc - I can see you rolling your eyes, sometimes latin is useful! (deep sigh) Fine, i’ll explain it another way.

Malinowski would say the Nuer like cows because they give them milk - our boy EP would say okay but why love cows instead of say… soy beans which can also give you milk. It’s because the conditions the land in which the Nuer live aren’t good for growing soy beans, but they are good for raising cattle.

What would be a good comparison. Okay, Malinowski would say you like your iPhone because it gives you messages from friends. Those messages make you feel nice, so it fills a need. And EP might say, yes that’s true but it’s also possible that you like the phone because the underlying structure of Western society values objects especially expensive ones. Or else you’d have a nokia 3310. It still fills the same function but EP aims to explain why people choose one thing over another. If you’re a quote fan here is how Evans-Pritchard put it.

“Although the Nuer have a mixed pastoral-horticultural economy their country is more suitable for cattle husbandry than for horticulture, so that the environmental bias coincides with the bias of their interest and does not encourage a change in the balance in favour of horticulture.”

Oh there is a guy over there! (Shouting) Hey! Hey sir! Sir! Who do these cows belong to? Sir? (Biggish pause) (Snort in distance) He’s gone. Well I didn’t have time to chat anyway, i’ve got a tutorial. Just keep that cow away from me while I’m teaching. I doubt you care but here’s a Nuer song that Evans Pritchard translated.

Extract

The wind blows wira wira;

Where does it blow to?

It blows to the river. The shorthorn carries its full udder to the pastures;'

Let her be milked by Nyagaak;

My belly will be filled with milk. Thou pride of Nyawal,

Ever-quarrelling Rolnyang.

This country is overrun by strangers;

They throw our ornaments into the river;

They draw their water from the bank.

Blackhair my sister,

I am bewildered.

Blackhair my sister,

I am bewildered.

We are perplexed;

We gaze at the stars of God.

White ox good is my mother

And we the people of my sister. The people of Nyariau Bui.

As my black-rumped white ox. When I went to court the winsome lassie,

I am not a man whom girls refuse. We court girls by stealth in the night,

I and Kwejok Nyadeang.

We brought the ox across the river,

I and Kirj oak

And the son of my mother's sister Buth Gutjaak.

Friend, great ox of the spreading horns,

Which ever bellows amid the herd. Ox of the son.

Return from tutorial

You let the cows eat my notes!? I thought I said watch the cows! What happened? Was it that same cow again? What do you mean they all look the same, the one with the evil eyes!

Okay, so it seems like I missed some things again. The students pointed out that on page one of the preface, I might have skipped the preface, says “My study of the Nuer was undertaken at the request of, and was mainly financed by, the Government of the Anglo-Egyptian Sudan.” Which means the colonial government most likely paid for him to do the research because they wanted to control the Nuer. He describes them as violent willing to go to war over cattle at the drop of a hat. In text he says;

“At the present time cattle are the main cause of hostility

towards, and suspicion of, the Government, not so much on

account of present taxation as of earlier tax-gathering patrols

which were little more than cattle raids and of the avowedly

plundering expeditions of the Egyptian Government era that

preceded them.”

The students pointed out that given theat the government violently took their property, it was kind of understandable that the Nuer were angry. Again, if he was there trying to collect information so the colonial officers could control them, can we trust his findings?

During the second world war he used his ethnographic relationships to recruit Sudanese troops who he then led in Guerrilla warfare against the Italians. I said that sounds pretty cool right? Which made them angry, academic knowledge shouldn’t be used as a weapon to manipulate people into fighting in a war, which, regardless of the outcome would leave them colonised. They asked why we were spending so much time focussing on old men.

(Phone rings) Ignore that!

Pause takes a breath

I said fine, but we have to cover foundational figures who would they rather cover? What about Boas? He thought races were biological different and with some inferior to others. Ruth Benedict? They say she wrote a book for the US army in the Second World War about how to defeat the Japanese based on their culture without ever setting foot in Japan. Fine, Margret Mead? Exoticised the sex lives of Samoans and thought they were primitive.

I’m taking off this jacket it’s so hot and it’s got cow slobber all over the shoulder.

Well if all of them were racist then let’s just pack the whole thing in! They said I wasn’t understanding. I was thinking about racism as an individual failing caused by ignorance. But they weren’t ignorant, their racism was a product of society. In that way Evans-Pritchard was right. They lived during colonialism and the rise of the nation state. Which meant Nations had to justify their difference from others and their superiority over others.

People had to have a reason to believe in “Being British” rather than French or Sudanese. Or why would you think it was okay to rule them? Or to enforce boarders?  These ideas of superiority and difference permeated the early anthropologists the same way the utility of cow herding led to the Nuer loving cattle. So everyone from that era was bound to be Colonialist.

They also said It doesn’t help that doing fieldwork confirms the differences between people. My head felt like it was going to explode. Still trying to figure it all out and it doesn’t help that that cow is still looking at me. I asked where they were getting all this from? Lentin and Visweswaren they said, apparently it’s on the reading list… I haven’t read the reading list.

(Phone rings once but he immediately hangs it up)

So, they said maybe next we could talk about Talal Asad. Apparently he is an anti-colonial ethnographer or something. I said fine whatever. They seem to know more than me anyway. Maybe we shouldn’t do fieldwork, maybe we should all do auto-ethnography. My students said maybe, but we still need to pay attention because racism hasn’t gone away, it’s still in our society. Which means we still might make arguments for it in our work unless we’re careful.

I guess before I do field work I should look at what the underlying structures of Britain are effecting my thinking. Not just my assumptions like I thought with Malinowski but what it means for a British person to turn up at a former colony. What does that act mean even before I start interacting with people.

I know that sounds like the same conclusion as episode one but my students assure me it’s subtly different. My head hurts, let’s go.

Nah leave the desk I’ll just get another.

Theme

This was notes from the field desk written by me James McGrail.  

This episode references

Evans-Pritchard, E.E., The Nuer, 1940, Clarendon Press, Oxford.

Lentin, A. (2004). Racial states, anti-racist responses. Picking holes in 'Culture' and 'Human Rights'. European Journal of Social Theory 7(4): 427-443.

Pocock, D. (1975). Sir Edward Evans-Pritchard 1902–1973: An appreciation. Africa, 45(3)

Visweswaran, Kamala (1998) Race and the Culture of Anthropology, American Anthropologist 100/1: 70-83.

Theme ends

Susan

Do you think I’m stupid? You think I believe your flight got diverted to South Sudan? South Sudan? Oh and it just so happens that it’s thematically appropriate for your little podcast? Get back to London. Now. We need to have a serious conversation.

https://freesound.org/people/Mystikuum/sounds/401636/

https://freesound.org/people/JarredGibb/sounds/233143/

https://freesound.org/people/selcukartut/sounds/504882/

https://freesound.org/people/felix.blume/sounds/187756/

https://freesound.org/people/darrinsmith/sounds/274434/

https://freesound.org/people/InspectorJ/sounds/405561/

https://freesound.org/people/t-man95/sounds/553265/

[tiredtoothache]

OC Questions Tag!

Rules: Pick a character you’ve created. Fill in the questions/statements as if you were that character. Tag at least 4 people to do this!

I was tagged by @panda-plumbobs! Thanks Amber!

I chose Matthew because I wanted to develop his character a bit more! 

Questions:

1. What’s your name?

“I’m Matthew, Matthew Knowles”

2. Do you know why you were named that?

“Guess my parents just liked the name”

3. Single or taken?

“ Heh, complicated question. Who's asking? Technically I’m single, sorta seeing someone but I have my eye on another chick as well. Listen I told you it was complicated”

4. Stop being a Mary Sue!

“Sorry? A what?”

5. What’s your eye colour?

“Bright green sweetheart, take a look yourself. Be careful though, ladies tend to get lost in them so bring a map” *chuckle*

6. How about hair colour?

“Black, no not any of this ‘really dark brown’ shit, my hair’s black”

7. Have you any family members?

“I have my parents and my sister”

8. Oh, how about pets?

“Three cats, Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal, they’re brats but I love ‘em”

9. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like?

“Something I don’t like? I don’t like a lot of things. Clowns, Soy milk, annoying fiancés... Alright alright you want something deep? Cars. I fucking hate cars.”

10. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

“ Eheh yeah I can think of a few things ;-) Kidding...uh I like reading, I like football and hockey as much as the next guy, hanging with friends, the typical boring answers everyone gives for questions like this.”

11. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before?

“Shit, this took a turn. Uh yeah...I suppose I have.”

12. Ever…killed anyone before?

“What?! Uh well I... no...no! Obviously not!”

13. What kind of animal are you?

*sigh* “Ah uh probably a cat of some sort, I have an affinity for them it seems...never used to”

14. Name your worst weaknesses

“Oh I’m an awful driver. Not too great at commitment either. I’ve been called arrogant before, which I get but that doesn’t mean it’s fair. What? I think highly of myself, is that such a crime? The work cheeky was used a lot to describe me, pretentious too. I’d say guilt though...guilt is a definite weakness of mine.”

15. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“Myself? No uh...I don’t know...ask me this four years ago and I’d have said my ex but-- *clears throat* Next question?”

16. Are you straight, gay or bisexual?

“Straight”

17. Do you go to school?

“Yeah, I go to Simford University. Majoring in History and French,”

18. Ever want to marry and have kids one day?

“Haven’t thought about it.”

19. Do you have fangirls/fanboys?

“Couldn’t tell ya”

20. What are you most afraid of?

“......next question”

21. What do you usually wear?

“Oh good, a topic I actually want to talk about. I’d describe my style as smart casual. I wear a lot of fitted jumpers, cropped dark jeans, formal shirts dressed down.”

22. What’s one food that tempts you?

“Any. I love a good takeout though. Chinese, Indian, Pizza, I just love having food delivered to the house, takes out all the stress of getting ready and going out to eat or having to cook yourself.”

23. Am I annoying you?

“Depends on what you’re asking”

24. Well, it’s not over!

“ Oh goodie”

25. What are you (low class, middle class or high class)?

“Hm...I’d say my family are middle class. My great-grandparents were immigrants but they and their descendants worked their asses off to get to where we are now. We’re pretty well off now, my parents run their own restaurant back in New Jersey and my extended family all have good educations and jobs. Yeah, middle class sounds right”

26. How many friends do you have?

“Too many. Kidding again. I have around ten close friends and many more acquaintances.”

27. What are your thoughts on pie?

“Eh. I like apple pie.”

28. Favourite drink?

“I was a big fan of beer back in the day but now I prefer a whiskey or honestly a glass of red wine with a nice meal.”

29. What’s your favourite place?

“The first time I visited France...someone I used to know brought me to this little patisserie and we bought eclairs and cream cakes and ate them in the picturesque public gardens next to it. It was such a lovely morning, the birds were chirping and the sun was beaming and hot and we sat in the grass, still damp from the morning dew and I-- *clears throat* s-sorry...uh yeah France.”

30. Are you interested in anyone?

“I might be ;-)”

31. That was a stupid question.

“Well yeah I don’t exactly hide it”

32. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

“Ocean...no, lake...no...neither.”

33. What’s your type?

“I go by the rule of the three S’s. Smart, Sexy and Sassy.”

34. Any fetishes?

“Boy wouldn’t you like to know”

35. Camping or indoors?

“Indoors. Nature is nice and everything but I much prefer the indoors”

I tag @surreysimmer, @littlemissnellie, @panda-plumbobs, @smallcowplant and @teslasims :-) Feel free to ignore this if you don’t want to do it!

[pringlesaremydivision]

tagged by my boo @woollenpharaohs​, thank you doll

— what was your last…

1. drink: iced soy caramel macchiato bc it’s saturday and i’m living it up at starbucks 2. phone call: uhhh the husband 3. text message:  that i sent? a cry-laughing emoji 4. song you listened to: 'say my name’ by destiny’s child is one right now 5. time you cried: i was pms-ing something fierce a couple weeks ago and just bawled over nothing

— have you ever…

6. dated someone twice: technically? 7. kissed someone and regretted it: eventually, but it wasn’t a regret at the time 8. been cheated on: nope  9. lost someone special: haahaaaha yeah 10. been depressed: i mean 11. gotten drunk and thrown up: i’m actually pretty good at holding my alcohol? i mean i act a fool but i don’t think i’ve ever puked 

— fave colours

12. pink 13. grey 14. darker pink

— in the last year have you…

15. made new friends: yeah dude 16. fallen out of love: nope 17. laughed until you cried: probably? 18. found out someone was talking about you: uh... i don’t think so? 19. met someone who changed you: nah  20. found out who your friends are: i mean, i know who i am friends with  21. kissed someone on your facebook friends list: i don’t have it 

— general

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know irl: i don’t! have it! 23. do you have any pets: no :( 24. do you want to change your name: nah 25. what did you do for your last birthday: i bought a pretty cool bookshelf at ikea  26. what time did you wake up today: 2pm whoops 27. what were you doing at midnight last night: watching friends? or maybe law and order? 28. what is something you can’t wait for: my new eyeshadows to get here 30. what are you listening to right now:  'black hole sun’ by soundgarden 31. have you ever talked to a person named tom: i mean i’m sure i have? 

32. something that’s getting on your nerves: my inability to finish a story 

33. most visited website: tumblr  34. hair colour: brown and increasingly grey 35. long or short hair: short

36. do you have a crush on someone: whomst don’t i have a crush on

37. what do you like about yourself: i’m a good writer, when i can write. i’m pretty good at makeup. i guess i can cook steak. 38. want any piercings: nah 39. blood type: i don’t know and it’s increasingly freaking me out 40. nicknames: lo, pringles, tiny 41. relationship status: so married 42. sign: aquarius 43. pronouns: she/her 44. fave tv show: friends 45. tattoos: none yet (or possibly ever, idk, i’m a wimp) 46. right or left handed: left 47: ever had surgery: just a couple teeth pulled 48. piercings: just my ears 49. sport: i like the concept of baseball 50. vacation: we’re going to mexico for my best friend’s wedding in october but considering i’m the maid of honor i don’t know how much of a vacation it’s gonna be 51. trainers: shoes? do i have them? yeah.

— more general

52. eating: i do it 53. drinking: i’m doing it 54. i’m about to watch: we’ll probably watch the latest ear biscuits tonight 55. waiting for: the weather to warm up

56. want: pizza 57. get married: am!  58. career: love ‘em... love to have one someday 

— which is better

59. hugs or kisses: uh, both? 60. lips or eyes: eyes 61. shorter or taller: everyone is taller than me so  62. older or younger: this is a dumb question 63. nice arms or stomach: arms i guess? 64. hookup or relationships: relationships but if i were single idk the answer lol 65. troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant

— have you ever

66. kissed a stranger: nope  67. drank hard liquor: yes 68. turned someone down: like, sort of? but it was in high school so it doesn’t really count 69. sex on first date: no 70: broken someone’s heart: i doubt it 71. had your heart broken: i mean i thought so at the time but i got over it? 72. been arrested: no 73. cried when someone died: i saved the crying for later, but yeah 74. fallen for a friend: you can fall for other people?

— do you believe in

75. yourself: hhaaahahhaa 76. miracles: nah 77. love at first sight: nah 78. santa claus: nah 79. angels: nah

— misc

80. eye colour: blue-green 81. best friend’s name: it’s also lauren 82. favourite movie: ever? shit, uh... almost famous i guess? 83. favourite actor: i honestly have no idea

84. favourite cartoon: animaniacs 85. favourite teacher’s name: steenson

this was long as shit, everybody do it if you’re bored!

[allmysense8children]

Vows (Nominita Ficlet)

The other day I was thinking about how cute Amanita and Nomi would be at their wedding, and it occurred to me that they would 100% write their own vows. And that got me thinking about them coming up with their vows, which totally led to this. 

Enjoy!

Title: Vows

Characters: Nomi, Amanita and basically the whole cluster. 

Notes: Post-Wolfgang rescue & BPO threat. Everyone is fine and happy, hence the presence of extreme fluff. 

“You’re writing your own vows?”

Nomi’s gaze shifts from the paper on the desk to find Riley sitting next to her. 

“That’s such a beautiful thing to do,” she adds with one of those wonderfully soft smiles she’s so well known for. 

In spite of the kindness in the comment, Nomi grips her pen with nervous tension, her eyes flying across the table to Amanita as she irrationally fears her fiancée has heard. When her common sense wins out, however, she relaxes her fingers and twirls the pen lightly, just like she’d been doing before, in order to allay suspicion of Riley’s visit. She also nods as subtly as she can in answer to the original question. 

Reading the situation, Riley ducks her head in amusement. “You promised to write it yourself,” she whispers conspiratorially, even though Amanita can’t hear her either, “but you’ve got writer’s block?“ 

Nomi hums lightly in the affirmative, hoping to make it sound like she’s considering something. 

Amanita looks up from writing furiously on her own pad and smiles brightly across the table. Nomi forces herself to respond in kind, despite the butterflies anxiously fluttering in her stomach. She breaks eye contact as quickly as she can to glare accusingly at her half-scribbled (and altogether useless) notes. 

Once Amanita goes back to her own vows, Riley speaks again. “What have you got so far?” she asks, leaning closer. Nomi clears her throat lightly in an attempt to hide the sound of the shifting paper while she adjusts it for Riley to see. 

“What are we doing, ladies?" 

Both cluster women jump at Will’s sudden arrival. 

"Oookay then,” he says in response to their reaction. “Uh… sorry?” 

Nomi darts her head back down, and then cautiously checks to see if Amanita’s noticed any of the commotion (she hasn’t, thankfully, since she’s so busy with her own work - something which Nomi finds to be incredibly endearing, and which unfortunately adds to her own gnawing guilt).  

“Nomi’s having trouble writing her wedding vows for Amanita and she’d like our help.” Riley tugs at Will’s hand to bring him closer to the table, so that he too can see the paper. Her eager smile is infectious and spreads quickly to his own face.

“Cool,” he says, nodding, “but why all the secrecy over us?”

Unable to physically answer his question in the room, Nomi decides to visit with him and Riley at their place. “Because she doesn’t think it’s fair that I have seven different sources of input when she only has one,” she explains.

“She has friends and the internet,” Will counters, always the problem fixer. 

Nomi dismisses the idea with a huff. “Not good enough, unfortunately. It’s our wedding vows, they’re supposed to be really personal - from me to her and her to me, no-one else.”

“That makes sense, I guess,” Riley says. “Amanita’s not just anybody. As much as we’re a part of you, she is, too. Sometimes I think the longer we spend with each other, the easier it is to get wrapped up in our own selves,” she admits. “It’s important to make time and effort for those we love who aren’t sensates. I can understand why this would be important to her.” 

“Exactly,” Nomi says, pointing at Riley. “From day one, Amanita’s been super amazing about the cluster. She loves you guys, but at the end of the day, she didn’t ask to share me with seven other people. If making up my wedding vows by myself is what it takes to keep her happy, then it’s the least I can do.” She runs her hands through her hair. “This should be so easy, guys.”

Will looks at Nomi with keen eyes - despite what she’s said, she’d opened the psychellium link and practically pulled them over to San Francisco for help. “So what’s the problem?” He sips from the mug in his hand. “You’re a pretty creative blogger and you’re great at expressing yourself, especially when it comes to Amanita.” 

Nomi flops herself on the couch in between him and Riley. “I know!” she says, throwing her hands up in frustration. “This is the most inconvenient time ever to have writer’s block.” She smacks her lips together briefly, inadvertently tasting the coffee Will is drinking. “The last thing I want is to hurt her feelings. These are our wedding vows, they should be flowing out of me at a mile a min-” she stops to screw her face up in disapproval. “Black, no sugar?” she asks, looking at Will. “What is wrong with you?”

He shrugs in response. “Wolfgang’s influence, I’m guessing,” he says and takes another sip. 

“Urgh, next time try an iced, skinny-soy, caramel latte. So much better.” 

He scrunches his nose in doubt at the thought of something so sweet. “Sounds a little more complicated than my coffee-making skills will allow.”

“Oh please, likes there’s not a Starbucks on every single corner of the globe." 

Will raises his eyebrows at her snark. He goes to take another sip of his coffee, but decides it’s safer not to and places it on the side table. 

“Sorry,” Nomi says, instantly regretting her comment. Will dismisses it with a quick wave of his hand and a silent ‘nah’. 

She rests her head on Riley’s shoulder and lets out a big sigh. “What do I do, guys? I’m in desperate need of inspiration.”

“How’s Amanita doing it?”

Thinking of her fiancée doesn’t help matters. “With total ease it seems,” she laments. “She’s written, like, six pages already.”

Will’s eyes widen. “That’s a lot of vows.”

“She’s got so many ideas she’s decided to put them all down and then pick the best ones. If I didn’t love her so much, I’d totally be resenting her for this.” 

Riley laces her fingers with Nomi’s in sympathy. “Maybe it’s just the pressure you’re putting yourself under,” she suggests. “Sometimes I find when I’m uninspired I just need to take a step back and not think about it.”

Nomi lifts her head off of her shoulder to meet her gaze. “It’s that simple, huh?”

“You’ve got a cluster member here helping you, don’t you?” Amanita’s voice cuts through Nomi’s visit like a knife and she finds herself suddenly back in her apartment, her fiancée staring at her like she’s been caught red-handed stealing government secrets. 

Nomi ducks her head and tries to look inconspicuous, (which, she’s positive was just makes her look even more suspicious). “Uh, no?” she tries. Considering neither Riley nor Will were actually present at the time Amanita asked, Nomi technically isn’t lying, but it takes her all of one whole second to totally cave and tell her the truth. “Ok yes,” she admits. 

Amanita gasps, appalled. “No fair!" 

Nomi cringes with guilt and goes straight into pleading mode. "I’m sorry, babe. I’m usually so good at this, but I just want it to be perfect for you and-" 

"You cheated, Nomi Marks,” Amanita accuses, cutting in. “You’re a low down dirty cheater.” 

Nomi clutches her hands to her chest and tries her best to apologise. “I know, I know, I’m the worst. I am just so sorry, babe.”

Amanita, however, is not having it, shaking her head in disapproval. “Oh no, that isn’t even close to cutting it.”

“It wasn’t even visiting on purpose,” she tries but at Amanita’s look she corrects her statement. “Ok, it was a little on purpose.”

“I am cut to the quick. These are supposed to be just for us.”

Nomi reaches her arms across the table. “I know. I’m so, so sorry. What do you need me to do?” she asks as she gestures for Amanita to give her her hands. “I’ll do anything.”

Amanita stands up, distancing herself further from Nomi and begins pacing melodramatically in thought. “Anything?” she asks, sounding intrigued.

Nomi suddenly catches on to her fiancée’s game, both highly relieved and amused to find that Amanita isn’t seriously upset at her - at least not so much that she isn’t above teasing. “Anything,” she says suggestively, her imagination starting to race at what kind of punishment Amanita might be devising in that wonderfully creative brain of hers. 

"I should get to cheat, too,” she says. “I want Lito." 

All thoughts of hot sex crash to a sudden halt. “What?”

As if summoned like a genie, Lito immediately appears, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Someone wants me?” he asks, amused. 

Nomi shifts her gaze between Amanita and the newly arrived cluster member. "No way!" 

"Oh yes way. Yes way indeed, madame,” Amanita says with a knowing smile. “If you get Will and Riley, then I get totally Lito and Hernando." 

"Hernando isn’t even a sensate! How is that fair?” Nomi demands before something else occurs to her. “And how did you even know it was Will and Riley?" 

Amanita rolls her eyes. “Please, have you even met those two lovebirds? Riley’s super creative and Will’s an adorably romantic sap, of course you’d go to them first." 

Nomi can’t help feeling a little turned on at how smart her girlfriend is. "God, you’re so perceptive. Have I ever told you how amazing that is?" 

"Flattery will get you nowhere this time, babe.” She reaches for her phone. “And I get Hernando because us cluster allies have to stick together, we’ve got our own club name and everything,” she says as she makes the call. 

Lito spares his cluster sister a glance, offering her a small apologetic shrug before picking up. 

“Hello, Lito?" 

"I’m standing right here,” he says, looking at Amanita, “a little more to your left… yes, there. And of course I will help you, as will Hernando,” he says with a smile. “It would be our honour.” 

Nomi glares at him for being such a traitor. 

“Thank you!” Amanita says with glee and then looks over to Nomi. “Did you hear that?! It would be their honour,” she repeats, and then does a little dance. “I wasn’t excited about getting your cluster involved with this before, but I’ve just realised that I’m going to have an Academy Award nominee helping me write my vows!” Her smile is a mile wide. “How amazing is that?!”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” Lito says in an attempt to sound humble, even though he’s grinning as excitedly as she is at the mention of his nomination. 

Nomi rolls her eyes and tries to hide how cute she’s finding all of this, but faced with the delight of both of them, she relents. “Fine, but if we’re getting the cluster involved, then I call Kala,” she announces, her competitive side making an appearance. "She’s super romantic." 

As if on queue, Kala appears, trailing Wolfgang behind her (of course). "Ooh, yay!” she says, clapping her hands together lightly. “Are we writing wedding vows?" 

Wolfgang’s unable to help himself. “You sure you want her to do that? The last time she was at a wedding, she ruined it.”

Kala spins around and reflexively punches him in the chest. “Wolfgang!” 

He grins at how cute her attempt at a glare is, not even trying to pretend that the impact hurts, and then he pulls her towards him. 

“Need I remind you whose fault it was?” she asks, eyebrow raised, although she doesn’t resist the shortening of distance between them. “Mister Pervert Demon.”

“I’m just saying,” he teases, his hands tracing down her bare arms, “you don’t have a great track record.”

They find themselves very close together and Kala licks her lips. “Are you calling me a jinx?” she challenges, her voice low.

His eyes lift from her mouth. “Never.”

“Uh, I don’t mean to interrupt, guys,” Nomi says, totally meaning to interrupt, “but are either of you going to actually help or…”

Wolfgang smiles and pulls away. "Sorry guys, I’m out. It’s not really my thing.” He steals a kiss from Kala and then disappears as quickly as he’d arrived. 

“What’s going on?” Amanita asks.

“Wolfgang and Kala temporarily forgot that there were other people on the planet besides them, and then he bailed.”

“Oh,” she says, a little disappointed that she wouldn’t be able to snag the elusive Wolfgang Bogdanow onto her team. “Ok, well I shotgun Capheus!” she says, perking up at the idea. “Pass me his cell number." 

Nomi comes up with an inspired idea as to why that would be impractical. "Calling Capheus’ll cost him too much,” she tries, pleased with her ingenuity. “He’s got a terrible cell phone plan. It’d just be easier if he were on my team.”

But Amanita is nothing if not stubborn. “That’s ok,” she says, grinning. “I can just Skype him." 

"He doesn’t have the Internet." 

Like a comedic foil, Capheus suddenly pops up. "No, no, it’s ok,” he reassures, “I’m at Zakia’s apartment. I can use her laptop." 

Nomi wants to smack her head against the table, but she settles for the drooping of her shoulders and a twist of her mouth in disapproval. "He’s signing into Skype now,” she says, begrudgingly sliding her cell across the table. “Use this since you’re using your phone for Lito and Hernando.”

Amanita blows her a kiss. “Thank you.”

“Hello, Amanita? Greetings from Nairobi!" 

"Hi Capheus!" 

"Sun’s great for impact,” Riley suggests as Amanita and her co-writers begin conferencing excitedly - both she and Will having reappeared once the teams had begun to settle. 

“I think she’s sleeping,” Nomi says. “I can’t reach her." 

Kala nods in agreement. "It’s late in the East. I was just speaking to my family an hour ago and it was about ten o’clock at night over there.”

“We’ll ask her when she wakes then,” Riley says. 

“Ok, I need you and your side of the cluster to leave!” Amanita announces, cutting through their discussion. 

“What?" 

"Yup,” she says at Nomi’s protest. “I need you out on the fire escape, lady. Me and my cluster friends have things to talk about in private - I can’t exactly have you knowing what I’m going to say before the wedding, and since you cheated first…" 

Nomi grins and shakes her head lightly at her fiancée’s charmingly adorable antics. "Fine, fine,” she says, getting up from the table. “Come on guys, we’ve got our work cut out for us.” She blows Amanita a kiss and heads out with Will, Riley and Kala in tow.

[detr0it-smash]

85 Things

Rules: answer these 85 statements and tag 20 people

I was tagged by @lil-bittypenguin  

The Last 1. drink - Mtn Dew xAx 2. phone call - My roommate  3. text message - A dude from work that likes to send me dank memes.  4. song you listened to - Stay with me- Chanyeol and Punch 5. time you cried - Literally less than 20 minutes ago, I watched a sad video on facebook :( 6. dated somebody twice - Never :0.   7. kissed somebody and regretted it - OMG SO MANY LOL.  8. have been cheated on - Err, I don’t think it counts because it was in like 7th grade. I mean I guess that’s only to the best of my knowledge but I’m pretty sure it hasn’t happened since. Hopefully xD. 9. lost someone special - I lost my best friends a couple years ago. We’re gucci now, but it’s nothing like what it was :/ 10. been depressed - AHAHAHAHHAHAHHHHHHH.  11. gotten drunk and thrown up- I actually don’t remember :0 I don’t drink that much, but when I do I usually stop before the pukey point.

Favorite Colors… 12. to wear - Black and grey xD Sometime’s dark blue? 13. In general my favorite color is blue. All blue.  14. I also really like pink, it’s my favorite hair color to have. Bless pink. Bless blue.

In The Last Year Have You 15. made new friends - Kinda? They’re just work friends but they’re cool. 16. fallen out of love - Nope, but the only things I’m in love with currently are my cats so xD 17. laughed until you cried - Probably xD  18. found out somebody was talking about you - Nope, not that I remember at least :0.   19. met somebody who changed you - Nah, changing because of myself this year. The brain stops developing at 25, I’m 24. Gotta be the person I wanna be. 20. found out who your friends are - Ahah. I guess, yeah. 21. kissed somebody on your Facebook list - Yeah :|.

General 22. how many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life - Oshit um.. Idk I think probably most of them. Aside from wolf rp friends and like.. Old online friends.  23. do you have any pets- FIVE cats two dogs two rats. Also omg @lil-bittypenguin your turtle sounds so cute TT^TT 24. do you want to change your name - Nah.   25. what did you do for your last birthday - I don’t really do things for my birthdays anymore. I think I might of had my sisters over? 26. what time did you wake up - 1:45 pm  27. what were you doing at midnight - Driving home from work e_e 28. name something you can’t wait for - Moving closer to my mom. @lil-bittypenguin OMG I LIVE IN MICHIGAN!!! WUDDUP!! 29. when was the last time you saw your mom - Last weekend  30. what are you listening to right now - Still ‘Stay with me’, it’s such a pretty song ughhhhhhhhhhhh 31. have you ever talked to somebody named Tom - I work with a Tom :0 32. something that is getting on your nerves - Liffeeee e_____e; 33. most visited website - Tumblah  34. hair color - Magenta :0 35. long or short hair - I want long hair, I keep cutting it xD 36. do you have a crush on somebody - Always. 37. what do you like about yourself - I am getting really good at flow wanding and also learned three new Korean words this week. Baby steps.  38. piercings - Septum and ears  39. blood type - I actually have no fuckin idea XDDD 40. nickname - Kymmie I guess is technically a nickname. Also Pekoe, at least online.  41. relationship status - Singo bingo. (I kept this answer it’s so cute xD) 43. zodiac - Pisces  44. pronouns - she/her 45. favorite tv shows - MADOOKKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA 46. tattoos - Three, I actually just got one finished last Monday.  47. right or left handed - right 48. surgery - Tonsils  49. piercing - e_e 50. sport -  I want to try mma fighting. 51. vacation - I’m not on vacation, no? 52. pair of trainers - Like my favorite? Or what I’m wearing now?? Wait trainers are shoes, right?? I like my mint puma’s the best??? 53. eating - Nothing, I should get food though probably.   54. fav drink - ICED MOCHANUT WITH SOY MILK FROM BIGGBY yum 55. what you’re up to - I’m doing this thing. 56. waiting for - Myself to stop being lazy so I can go do stuff.  57. want - Mochanut e_e 58. get married - Eh it doesn’t matter to me. It’d be dope if I could find someone who’s also Pagan so we could have like a more Pagan-y wedding but it’s not necessary lmao  59. career - On my way to becoming a Court Recorder :0 Gonna make good money and own a farm.  60. hugs or kisses: Hugs, but only from people I consider to be close with. 61. lips or eyes - eyes 62. shorter or taller - Doesn’t matter 63. older or younger - Doesn’t matter   64. nice arms or nice stomach - ? omg doesn’t matter lmao. 65. hook up or relationship - Relationship, but I’m too difficult for those so I just get hook ups lmfaoo. 66. troublemaker or hesitant - Equally balanced I’d say 67. kissed a stranger - I think it was for truth or dare. 68. drank hard liquor - ye 69. lost glasses/contact lenses - Yeah. 70. turned someone down - Yep, I’m temporarily in the closet again so I have to turn a lot of dudes down. 71. sex on first date - nooooOOOooo. 72. broken someone’s heart - Probably.  73. had your heart broken - YEP 74. been arrested - no 75. cried when someone died - yes 76. fallen for a friend - literally all I’ve ever fallen for was friends. <-----

Do You Believe In 77. yourself -  Hah. Sometimes I guess. 78. miracles - Eh, who knows. 79. love at first sight - No, that’s lust.  80. Santa Claus - ~!!!!!!~ 81. kiss on the first date - I’ve never technically been on a date date so who knows.  82. angels - Personally no, but I don’t.. Not believe in them?

Other 83. current best friends names - MarisaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAaaaaaa and @dreamy-fish and I guess my sisters lmao I don’t have friends.  84. eye color - Blue 85. favorite movie - Spirited Away probably  

I don’t have 20 friends on this site I only have like one and I never talk to anybody LOL.

@dreamy-fish SORRY BRO UR ALL I GOT this is gonna be so boring for you there are so many relationship questions 

@lil-bittypenguin Thank you for tagging me TT^TT

[dragonshost]

Happy Birthday, @papalogia! I wrote you some ShiSaku to celebrate, with a hefty side of ItaSaku.

I hope you’re having an amazing birthday.

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Sakura x Shisui

Takes place in the same AU as Study Date.

Sakura and Shisui have gone on a lot of dates for people who aren't actually dating.

Sakura's hands curled against her legs, sweating in her leather, fingerless gloves. The heat in the room was stifling, but she dared not show any weakness in front of the man before her. He was peering at her curiously, processing the request she'd come to him with. The box fan in the corner, gentle hum lost beneath the cicadas cries, was doing little to alleviate Sakura's discomfort, and she wondered how it was that Itachi could look so unperturbed in his solid black outfit.

The fact that she hadn't been denied outright was promising, she felt.

Finally, Itachi addressed her. "You wish for me to... fake date you?"

She swallowed thickly, and nodded. "Yeah. It's kind of an emergency. Mom's been on my case ever since I hit twenty about settling down, and I finally caved and told her I had someone in my life just to get her off my back."

A wry smile touched his lips. "I can relate."

No doubt he could. The pressure was probably even worse on him as clan heir. "Mutually beneficial for both of us, then," Sakura stated. "We both get our mothers off our cases, and neither of us will expect anything of the other."

She could see him waffling. Sakura hadn't survived early childhood with Sasuke for nothing - she could read an Uchiha like no one else. Itachi's weak spot was always his mother and his brother. And he was easy to trust, somehow.

"Mebuki and Mikoto are both formidable women." He considered it further. "I must ask why you came to me, however. Wouldn't Sasuke or Naruto make more sense?"

"My mother would never buy it," Sakura replied, flat. "She wouldn't buy Sai, either, before you ask. My options aren't great - most everyone else already has a significant other. I got so desperate, I even asked Ino to be my fake date."

That seemed to deeply amuse him. "And how did that go?"

"She laughed me out of the flower shop."

A true smile tugged at the corners of Itachi's lips. "Then I will assist you. A few hours of socializing with your family is something I've managed before. When did you need me?"

"This Friday night?" she asked hopefully.

Suddenly, he sighed. "My apologies - I'm afraid I have a prior engagement that evening." The way his face twisted up with distaste, Sakura could venture a guess that it was something clan heir related. His dark eyes swept over her with something resembling pity.

It was her turn to sigh. "No, thank you for even agreeing at all. I'll just have to suck it up and eat crow." She was not looking forward to this in the least. Her mother would hold this over her forever. Maybe even use it as an excuse to set up a marriage meeting. No. That outcome needed to be avoided at all costs. Maybe she could convince Kankuro to make the journey from Suna. Dealing with one crow was preferable to the other variety, and she could swing, 'hey my boyfriend can't stay long or visit ever again because he lives in another country.' She would need a suitable bribe. If he couldn't do it, she was absolutely sunk, though.

Her obvious despair must have incited further compassion from the stoic man, as Itachi then offered, "I might know of someone else willing to entertain your request. He's another member of my clan, and so long as you state it clearly for him, he won't try to read into the situation."

Leaning forward, Sakura nodded vigorously. "Go on. Who is my savior angel?"

A smirk crawled across Itachi's face. "A certain Uchiha going stir crazy right now thanks to a certain medic's house rest recommendations."

She had been wrong. That was not compassion she had stirred in Itachi. It was cruelty.

Sakura groaned. "Not... not Shisui."

"Shisui," he confirmed.

"You're enjoying my suffering, aren't you," Sakura accused with a glare. "But I really am out of options... and his ribs should be healed enough by Friday to go out with supervision..." She sighed heavily. "Fine. I should at least ask him."

Itachi rose to his feet, patting her shoulder as he walked by. "I'll let him know to expect you. A visitor might..." He winced, and that was honestly all Sakura needed to know what she was in for.

"It's only been two days," she muttered. "He can't possibly be that..." She trailed off as well, and Itachi nodded solemnly in understanding.

This was going to be almost as unpleasant as showing up dateless would be.

The malicious glee on Shisui's face when she arrived at his home was almost enough for Sakura to turn on her heel and forget the whole ordeal. She was seriously reconsidering - not for the first time - her something-feeling for the man, and if she shouldn't just cut her losses and go with Plan Kankuro.

"So..." Shisui began, lying on his back in his futon, like she had prescribed (which was somewhat surprising, actually). "My wonderful cousin tells me that you're in need of a favor. Well, you're in luck because I'm in need of one as well."

"I'm not clearing you to leave your house," Sakura informed him bluntly. Medic duties came before personal feelings, and she took her job very seriously.

He grimaced. "Not interested, then. Do you have any idea how out of my mind bored I am thanks to you?"

"It's only been two days, and I'm not the one who broke your ribs," she reminded him. "Blame your wonderful cousin for that. And you can't bully me like you do the other medics so you're just sour."

Shisui rolled his eyes. "Since we can't reach an agreement, please leave my house. Just having another body next to me is stifling in this heat."

Why were all shinobi like this when it came to recuperating? Not all of them were as bad as Kakashi, but damn if they weren't all obstinate about what should be common sense. At least Shisui was obeying her orders, though. She would have had to physically tie down Kakashi or Naruto. (And good luck getting Shikamaru out of bed.)

But this was an emergency, and she really, really needed Shisui's cooperation.

"Wait!" The cry escaped her lips before she could stop herself, and tinged with far more desperation that she would like. "I can't clear you right now, but on Friday you can go out... with supervision."

He hummed in thought. "That's great, but you would have cleared me anyway as a medic. What else have you got?"

Sakura grit her teeth. Obstinate. All Uchihas were obstinate to a fault. "You would get a large homemade meal out of the deal."

His eyebrows shot up.

"With considerable leftovers."

"I'm in!" he agreed. "You had me at homemade meal. Haven't had one of those in forever. So what do you need from me that's so important that you're willing to stoop to bribing an invalid?"

"I need a fake date for dinner with my parents on Friday night."

"And I'm out," Shisui said. "I don't do parents. Parents are terrifying. Especially yours - I've met them. Mebuki, in particular, is extremely terrifying."

"And so is Itachi," Sakura reminded him. "Don't forget - he specifically recommended you to me. He'll dismember you if you winge on something you've technically already agreed to."

A strangled noise emanated from Shisui's throat as the truth of that statement sunk in. "You make a compelling argument."

Sakura could play Uchihas like a fiddle. Very annoying, whiny, high maintenance fiddles half the time, but still a valid comparison.

"So do we have a deal?" she asked.

He sighed, looking very put out, and Sakura resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Fine. I'm in! What do I wear."

"Casual is fine but, you know, nice."

Shisui blankly stared at her for a long moment. "How about you just go to my closet and pick something out for me. Trust me, that'll be better for both our sakes."

After a second of consideration, Sakura agreed.

"And," Shisui added, "since you're getting up - mind bringing me some water? Then we can hash out the details about our sordid, nonexistent love life. Because, again, I've met your parents. They are going to grill me and serve me with soy sauce." He paused, as realization dawned. "Wait, I'm not the homecooked meal, am I?"

This time, Sakura did roll her eyes, and he gave her a grin.

Dinner, thankfully, went off without too many hiccups. Thankfully Kizashi and Mebuki were too busy squabbling over their daughter actually having a boyfriend to do much damage to the man's psyche.

That being said... the pair were exhausted by the end of the evening from the work of keeping the charade up.

"You know, it's lucky we're good friends and your mother's cooking is delicious," Shisui said with a smile as he waved goodbye to Sakura's parents. "I would not wish that awkwardness on anyone." He paused, and then added, "Except maybe Ebisu."

He didn't even know the half of it. Having your parents meet your boyfriend was nerve-wracking enough without it also being fake, and with the man you were not-quite-crushing on. Whoever invented feelings was a sadist. "At least you won't be asked every other day about how the nonexistent relationship is going," Sakura replied, tightening her grip on his arm in mild retaliation for her pain. "Tell me, how long do you think until I can tell them that we've broken up?"

"I'd give it two weeks, at least."

Sakura's face relaxed into a real smile (and so did her grip on his arm) as they rounded the corner and escaped her parents' line of sight. "Thanks for helping me out, Shisui."

He shrugged, unconcerned. "What are friends for, if not to fake date each other in times of need?"

"Yeah, you say that, but I distinctly recall you refusing at first."

The Uchiha shrugged again. "I don't remember that. Must have been the heat stroke talking."

"Uh huh," she said, unconvinced. "Well, if you ever need anything, I owe you one."

He looked a little too excited by that prospect. "Anything? Then, the next time I get injured..."

"You'll obey my orders as a medic-nin and enjoy it," she interjected.

His mouth closed with a snap. "Drat. Okay then... how about next time, you keep me company. Job permitting, anyway. It is seriously boring to just lay in bed all day for a week by myself."

Sakura nodded, warmth spreading across her cheeks. "Sure thing. I can do that."

They walked, arm-in-arm, across Konoha to Shisui's residence. They'd agreed ahead of time that Sakura could stay in the guest room that night. It would help with the illusion, and it was late, besides. There was also the fact that Sakura had meant it when she said Shisui wasn't to be out and about unattended, so dropping her off at her apartment was out. This was better all around for both of them.

As they neared the building, Sakura suddenly broke the comfortable silence.

"What do you think about ganging up on your cousin tomorrow for forcing us to endure this?"

"I am in."

[hellooogaynow]

1-100

omg ok tbh i forgot that i reblogged that ask thing but thank u fren here u go

1. spotify, soundcloud, or pandora? 

spotify

2. is your room messy or clean?

um ok so my room at my mom’s is technically the office and just full of mine and everyone else’s storage so it isn’t really my room i guess and my room at my dad’s is nearly empty and i haven’t been there more than a couple times in a while and i’ve been crashing at friend’s and family’s houses and living out of a suitcase for weeks so i’m just gonna say i don’t really have a room

3. what color are your eyes?

dark brown

4. do you like your name? why?

alright well this is complicated because i hate the name emily and lately i’ve been going by emmitt for a while and it’s just weird because i feel so disconnected from emily and not super connected to emmitt either and i feel like i should just be a nameless person because i hate being referred to as anything tbh

5. what is your relationship status?

happily in a relationship with someone i really care about

6. describe your personality in 3 words or less

a detached mess

7. what color hair do you have?

my natural dark brown color

8. what kind of car do you drive? color?

ah it’s a purple mini van that’s rusting and dying

9. where do you shop?

target lol

10. how would you describe your style?

almost exclusively button ups and baseball shirts

11. favorite social media account?

tumblr probably i use this the most out of all of them

12. what size bed do you have?

queen

13. any siblings?

i have 2 sisters

14. if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

i honestly have no idea how to answer this question i don’t have a dream destination or anything

15. favorite snapchat filter?

omg probably the cute cat one that changes ur voice cuz my friends look so cute when they use it

16. favorite makeup brand(s)?

i don’t know anything about makeup

17. how many times a week do you shower?

every day sometimes multiple times a day

18. favorite tv show?

buffy the vampire slayer and dollhouse kill me

19. shoe size?

idk i’m pretty sure i’m a 6

20. how tall are you?

5’1

21. sandals or sneakers?

sneakers

22. do you go to the gym?

no lol but i do plan to start going once i actually move in to my new place and get settled

23. describe your dream date

i want to spend a day in chicago with emily doing whatever we want just walking and wandering into stores and go to a zoo or a museum or navy pier or honestly just anything at this point i miss her so much i don’t care what we do as long as we’re together

24. how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?

$6

25. what color socks are you wearing?

they’re both different variations of black white and light blue

26. how many pillows do you sleep with?

at least 2

27. do you have a job? what do you do?

yeah i recently got a job in the mental health field and i work primarily with adults with various mental illnesses in a 24/7 supervised living area at the moment it’s mostly individuals dealing with schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, depression, and borderline personality disorder and i help them with symptom management, building the skills they have chosen to work on in their treatment plans, and help them carry activities of daily living so they can become self-sufficient and can transition out and live on their own

28. how many friends do you have?

ah i mean i know i have a lot of friends but as far as really close friends i know i can count on and will most likely always have around i’d say i have about 8

29. whats the worst thing you have ever done?

ah fuck well i went through a really destructive phase in my recent past where i was just in a bad place and i withdrew and lashed out a lot and was super emotionally unstable and i hurt a lot of people and i regret it

30. whats your favorite candle scent?

omg i have no idea i usually just smell all the blue ones and go from there

31. 3 favorite boy names

elliot (this is my favorite name in the world probably)

max

derrick

32. 3 favorite girl names

bennett

caroline

sara

33. favorite actor?

i thought about this for a solid 5 minutes and no one is coming to mind i’m gonna leave this blank

34. favorite actress?

eliza dushku and alyson hannigan kill me every time i watch dollhouse or buffy i’m in love with her

35. who is your celebrity crush?

amber liu

36. favorite movie?

selena

37. do you read a lot? whats your favorite book?

i used to read a lot when i was a kid and the music of dolphins by karen hesse has always stuck with me for some reason idk if it’s my favorite but when i was a kid i checked it out at least once a month on our elementary library visits and even now i always find myself thinking about it

38. money or brains?

well if u don’t have money u can’t survive in this capitalist society so i mean

but if this question is asking what i want in a person i’d want the smart

39. do you have a nickname? what is it?

my family calls me mimi and tbh it’s the only thing i actually feel comfortable with weirdly

40. how many times have you been to the hospital?

i’ve been to the hospital multiple times to visit people but i don’t remember actually needing to be there myself besides when i burned my hands as a child

41. top 10 favorite songs

this is def subject to change depending on my mood at any given moment but for right now:

hold me tight by bts

house of cards by bts

lie by bts

all mine by one ok rock

deeper deeper by one ok rock

we are by one ok rock

decision by one ok rock

clock strikes by one ok rock

como la flor by selena

moon river waltz by shinee

42. do you take any medications daily?

no i had issues with family and insurance so i had to stop seeing my psych and taking meds

43. what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)

dry

44. what is your biggest fear?

my mom having anything else bad happen to her

45. how many kids do you want?

this is most likely not going to be my choice lol i don’t have a number in mind if i do have kids

46. whats your go to hair style?

short and whatever it wants to do when i get out of the shower

47. what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc)

well i don’t really live in a house rn but my mom’s house is huge she just moved in and it’s crazy big i’m so happy for her also the house i’m gonna move into soon is p small but still cute

48. who is your role model?

idk probably my mom she’s been through a lot and is still going strong

49. what was the last compliment you received?

“you’re so sweet, you know that?” from a client

50. what was the last text you sent?

“nini

51. how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?

tbh i have no idea i was probably in elementary school

52. what is your dream car?

something that runs, is either blue or grey, and magically doesn’t cost me anything to drive it

53. opinion on smoking?

it smells terrible and i don’t like to be around people who smoke

54. do you go to college?

yeah i just graduated

55. what is your dream job?

i have no idea i don’t know what i want i haven’t really thought that far ahead but i love my job so far so i’m alright with where i’m at

56. would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs?

i don’t really have a preference as long as i’m with and near people i care about

57. do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels?

i don’t think i’ve ever personally done that

58. do you have freckles?

yeah i have a couple scattered around

59. do you smile for pictures?

i make this weird stupid half smile face and i can’t stop

60. how many pictures do you have on your phone?

761

61. have you ever peed in the woods?

i have not

62. do you still watch cartoons?

i never want to not watch cartoons

63. do you prefer chicken nuggets from wendy’s or mcdonalds?

i don’t like chicken nuggets from anywhere

64. favorite dipping sauce?

wait for what

i like soy sauce for potstickers

65. what do you wear to bed?

usually shorts and a t shirt

66. have you ever won a spelling bee?

no i’m terrible at spelling out loud

67. what are your hobbies?

i like to dance idk not much else tho i guess

68. can you draw?

nooooo

69. do you play an instrument?

i played guitar once but i forgot everything smh

70. what was the last concert you saw?

the bts wings tour

71. tea or coffee?

tea

72. starbucks or dunkin donuts?

dunkin donuts

73. do you want to get married?

yes

74. what is your crush’s first and last initial?

e g

75. are you going to change your last name when you get married?

i’ve thought about this actually and i’m mostly just hesitant about how difficult it would be to change my name on like all the legal paperwork and like bills and work things and it just sounds super complicated but i wish it could be easier because i hate where my last name comes from and if i married my current gf we would literally have the exact same name and we would be able to confuse people even more and i just think it would be funny

76. what color looks best on you?

black i think

77. do you miss anyone right now?

yes oh my god

78. do you sleep with your door open or closed?

closed always closed

79. do you believe in ghosts?

yeah i do

80. what is your biggest pet peeve?

ok i get so mad when i go to a friend’s place who has long hair and i’m walking barefoot through their house or i’m sleeping over or i’m under a blanket or something and it just makes me so mad when i feel dumb long single strands of hair in my toes i hate it so much it makes me so mad idk man but this happened to me last night and i’ve been thinking about it ever since

81. last person you called?

ah well the last phone call that i was on was with the director of all the residential living things at my work

82. favorite ice cream flavor?

idk probably chocolate and vanilla with caramel

83. regular oreos or golden oreos?

regular oreos

84. chocolate or rainbow sprinkles?

no sprinkles pls

85. what shirt are you wearing?

black and grey v neck t shirt

86. what is your phone background?

a picture of my gf i took a while back of her from a distance with the river and sunset in the background

87. are you outgoing or shy?

shy with everyone besides my friends

88. do you like it when people play with your hair?

only like a very specific like 2 people but when it’s anyone else i get really uncomfortable with being touched and you’d think that people wouldn’t just come up to you and start touching your hair and telling you how soft it is but it’s more common than you think and it makes me want to d ie

89. do you like your neighbors?

my nonexistent neighbors r gr8

90. do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?

i always wash it in the morning but sometimes i wash it at night too if i feel gross from the day

91. have you ever been high?

nope never

92. have you ever been drunk?

yes

93. last thing you ate?

a blizzard from dairy queen with pieces of brownies in it

94. favorite lyrics right now

ok i’m gonna be honest and just say i’m not in a place to listen to music rn i’ve been listening to exclusively podcasts and i have not listened to a song and not zoned out completely during it in a very long time and no lyrics are coming to mind

95. summer or winter?

summer

96. day or night?

night

97. dark, milk, or white chocolate?

ah milk or white i guess i’m not a super big fan tho

98. favorite month?

june cuz my birthday also gay

99. what is your zodiac sign

gemini

100. who was the last person you cried in front of?

my dad

[neni-has-ascended]

Why Review Scores Are B*U*L*L*S*H*I*T~<3

[Click here for the YouTube Version]

Hello, my name is Nenilein.

Let me talk about why Review Scores are bullshit.

With the Nintendo Switch out for more than a week now, most of the available library of games for it so far hasn't exactly been able to leave much of an impression. That is, all except for one. 

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild immediately hit the gaming public's expectations out of the park, garnering all-around glowing review scores and a stellar aggregated Metacritic rating of 98%. Obviously, this was the Zelda game we all had been waiting for all these years, the perfection to finally outdo Ocarina of Time's perfection, a Zelda game that would be remembered as universally beloved and uncontested in its greatness for ages to come!

Well, not really. 

Within the first few days of the game's release, already a mob of angry detractors gathered, bombing the game's Metacritic page with ridiculously negative reviews - in their words, to "balance out the obviously paid for by Nintendo perfect reviews” the game had been garnering from professional outlets - even though many of the people dropping these 0/10 reviews admitted to never even having touched the game, let alone played it. (The Know Gaming News reported on this. Many of the fraudulent reviews have thankfully been removed by now.) Then, a few days later, fans of the game went ballistic when the 7 out of 10 review from famous YouTube personality Jim Sterling led to the game dropping from 98% to 97% on Metacritic. The mob proceeded to harass Jim Sterling, accuse him of - again - having been “paid off” for his review, and, finally DDOS'd his website into oblivion for the following hours.

Of course, it should be said that in both of these cases, these more *extreme* reactions to BotW's criticism or lack thereof only apply to a small fraction of its fans and detractors - otherwise the number 0/10 user reviews on Metacritic would be in the 100-thousands and Jim Sterling's entire internet presence would have been utterly obliterated by Zelda fans well-versed in hacking- But the few loud voices that did speak up were passionate enough to make me seriously think about what it actually *is* that they are getting so passionate about.

Are Review scores really so powerful that a single slightly-less-than-stellar score is enough to make or break a game's respect and reputation for good? Obviously they are  in the eyes of the people behind the incidents I just listed, but to me, the idea that a game's worth can be determined on a scale from 1 to 100 is more than just a little bit questionable.

While I'm a very passionate gamer myself, I tend to personally be more interested in qualitative analysis of a game over the long term than playing as many games as I can in the time given to me. In fact, out my siblings, I probably have the lowest count of games I've actually played through (we're a family of gamers). As a result, I don't buy too many new games in any given year, so picking every single game I actually do buy is a very important process for me, since I expect myself to be 'stuck' with that game for a very long time. Because of this, reading and watching reviews, additionally to getting advice from my family and friends, is an important part in my buying decision. However, it's rarely, if ever, the *score* of said reviews that influences my buying decision. The actual contents of the review hold a lot more weight to me. For example, when The World Ends With You was first released, it was a review in the German N-Zone magazine that pointed me that game's way and I ended up buying it. To this day, I remember the exact qualities of the game pointed out in the review which led me to make my buying decision. However, what I *don't* remember is the final score the magazine actually gave to the game and whether or not it was a so-called "good" score to begin with. (I researched the archived version of the review from back then, fully expecting to find a 70-something score. I was pretty surprised to see it scored 88 back then.)

Regardless, TWEWY ended up being one of my favorite games of all time, and, in fact, it was a game I enjoyed playing a lot more than the famous critical darling and 99%-almost-perfect-Metacritic-Score-Holder The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, and if you now come and tell me "That's like comparing Apples and Oranges!", that's exactly my point.

Looking at the YouTube comments and Metacritic reviews of the more extreme fanatics or detractors of Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, you'll find many of them comparing the game favorably or unfavorably to the other two big Open World games released that same week, Horizon Zero Dawn and NieR: Automata (Mostly Horizon). The same is also true when you look at discourse for those two games(Mostly Horizon’s): Regardless of where you look, comparisons of Horizon, NieR and Zelda are almost unavoidable these days (except for the fact that NieR got badly overshadowed), and the success of one is often associated to the failures of the others, giving the deep impression that fans of the one are automatically incompatible with fans of the other, since in their eyes, if one is good, it must mean the other two are objectively worse. 

Of course, that sentiment is utterly false in a reality where my brothers, Chyrillon and Mezian, are spending their days sitting on the same couch, Chyrillon playing NieR and Mezian playing Zelda, both of them getting along just perfectly fine and even exchanging friendly quibs about each other's games.

I took Chyrillon aside to speak to him about my issues with the Scores-Are-Everything mentality that seems to pervade the discourse around Zelda, Horizon and Nier, and he offered me his perspective: Even if Zelda, Horizon and NieR all fall under the broad category of "Open World Games", from an artistic standpoint, these three games target entirely different tastes and needs, with Zelda focusing more on an engrossing adventure, Horizon on a technical high quality experience and NieR on storytelling and atmosphere. All three of these games excel at what they are trying to do, but they do so in vastly different ways, targeting very different player tastes. Regardless of how amazingly well-executed all three of these games are, there will be players who enjoy one or two of these games, but won't be able to enjoy the remaining one or two of them.

(Well, IGN, what if I *like* my water?)

It's a matter of taste, and just like how rating a rib-eye steak a 9.5 in a culinary review and soy pudding a 7.0 won't mean that everyone, including vegetarians and vegans, will enjoy the rib-eye steak more than the pudding, Video Game Scores on their own, aggregated or not, will not give a player reliable information on whether or not a given game will be enjoyable to them. Regardless of what politicians like to argue, the fact remains that video games are a form of artistic expression and  art is not something that can ever be judged absolutely objectively. 

Guessing around a little here, I'd reckon that the "threshold" for how much of a game's score can be determined by truly objective factors, such as playability, technical soundness and working controls stops at somewhere between 50-65%, but even that is quite debatable, and as Jim Sterling himself once demonstrated wonderfully, a review based on such criteria alone would be utterly boring and useless to the consumer. 

And beyond that? It all comes down to personal enjoyment, something that is unique to every human being. No game will ever be able to evoke a sense of happiness, excitement, wonder and true emotion in every single player who touches it, which is a good thing, because it means that different games' styles will always have to be varied and diverse in order to cover the entire potential of the market, but it also severely calls the validity and usefulness of uniform review scores into question.

If that's true, then why is it that most outlets do use a scoring-system with their reviews? Because we live in a society in which short, compact, easily digestible pieces of information are more sought-after than ever. 

A review may be well-written, perfectly worded and have a million good points to make, the fact is that many people won't even bother clicking on it if they can't look at the front cover for 2 seconds or less and immediately think they know what it says. It's the same effect that makes headlines such an important factor in newspaper sales and that made clickbait the scourge of the internet. Researching the psychology behind attention-grabbing headlines a bit, I found two important factors that apply to review scores just as much: 

A) They use numbers, which our brains love, since it seemingly presents an unchangeable truth and eliminates uncertainty.

 B) They are polarizing, again, not leaving much space for doubt or uncertainty. 

Just like computers, our brains (as much as we love to think otherwise) love exact instructions and have an a lot easier time dealing with simple "Yes" or "No" situations than with more complex, context-sensitive replies to any given question. So, as much as scrapping uniform scores for games and instead opting for more complex tables or diagrams would make more sense to allow players to judge for themselves whether or not they'd personally enjoy a game, let's be real. No outlet is going to do that, simply because it just wouldn't grab reader attention nearly as effectively.

(I mean, would you take the time to evaluate all of THIS?)

However, as long as uniform scoring systems continue to be in use, it means that games that target very different audiences and have no business being compared to each other, will continue being compared to each other, resulting in Flamewars, name-calling and incidents such as the ones I talked about in the beginning of this video. All of this happens simply because uniform scoring systems and Review Aggregator such as Metacritic or Rotten Tomatoes encourage people to directly compare numbers and make them feel a need for their "darlings" to "win out" against someone else's darling, in the same way a sports fan wants their sports team to win over another sports team, even though Video Game Reviews shouldn't be and are not supposed to be a competition. Of course, people would still unfairly compare games to each other even if review scores didn't exist, but I feel like the existence of scores supplies these, in my opinion, useless arguments with ammunition and a fake sense of legitimacy they wouldn't otherwise have.

My close friend Triple refers to this kind behavior as an "obsession with meaningless numbers" and I can't say I disagree. In his opinion, the reason many players of more popular games cling to review scores as they do is because to them, it is a way to justify, reinforce and perpetuate the sense of hype they feel over a product, which they, understandably, get a kick out of. Now, feeling hyped and happy about a game is, of course, not a bad thing itself, but once it is paired with a sense of competition it can get quite dangerous, and that's exactly what happens when overly hyped fans of a product compare its review scores to that of another product. It becomes less about which game you personally liked better when you played it, and more about "winning" against a "rival team" in a competition created by numbers that were never meant to compete. The act of comparing game review scores in and of itself becomes a "game".

This also adds the issue that reviewers themselves, expecting scores to be compared this way, often account for such potential reactions in their final score just as much as for the game's actual quality, which I think has led to the average review scores for AAA games tilting unhealthily towards the 80% range in recent years, meaning that "50%" is now seen as a "bad" score, rather than an average one. This is part of the reason the backlash against Jim Sterling's review was so severe: He still uses a classic - and in my opinion much more reasonable - scoring system, in which 70% actually means a good game far above average, yet, Metacritic counted his review as a "middling" one, simply because that's how 70% scores are read these days. In that way, it can be said that the backlash against Jim Sterling wasn't actually a result of him disliking Zelda any more than the other reviewers who gave it a somewhat higher score, but of him refusing to conform with the "adjusted" , skewed and limited scale of modern game reviews, which, come to think of it, is a very "Jim Sterling" way to tackle things.

So, in light of all this, would it be better to get rid of scoring systems in video game reviews all-together? A defense to them came from my other brother, Mezian, in whose opinion looking at review aggregators to judge the average opinion of reviewers on a game can be helpful to very roughly gauge a game's overall quality before you buy, as long as you don't take the aggregated scores too seriously. This may be true, but to me the fact remains that people *do* take these scores too seriously, and it leads to the existence of conversations that have no business existing. Whether or not aggregated scores' usefulness actually outweighs their inflammatory qualities is, of course, also up to one's personal viewpoint, but to me, I can't say I've ever felt as if Review Scores had improved my life as a gamer in any way, while the actual *content* of reviews definitely has. That's why nowadays I really do prefer looking at reviewers who don't use a uniform scoring system, or at least use one that's so out-there that it can't possibly be compared to anyone else's.

Do I think that we'll get rid of Video Game Scores anytime soon? No, not by a long shot, the system is simply too convenient to be abandoned like that. However, I do believe that it is time the community took an a bit laxer approach to them and focused more on the actual contents of a review, rather than the final score given in it. I know, that's probably not what will happen, but at very least I hope this video can make at least a few people consider what Review Scores mean to them as a gamer and if they're really worth ascribing as much importance to as many people seem to do. If we, as a community, stopped reducing a game's worth down to numbers as much as we do and instead judged it in the context of people's individual experiences with it, I feel like discourse about game quality would overall become a more pleasant and less competitive. I don't really think we actually *need* scores to judge the general conscence about a game. I mean, nobody remembers the Review Scores for Sonic 06, but we still all agree that that wasn't that great of a game, right?

Personally, I don't believe in such a thing as a "perfect 10/10" game. What I do believe in are games that I loved when I first played them and will love playing forever, even if I grow old and my tastes change slightly. But of course, that 'Hall of Fame' is mine alone and doesn't look like that of anybody else's. Nobody will ever have the same combination of favorite games as I do, and I believe that that's a very good thing.

[smoothshift]

Review/AMA: One year and 19250 miles in the Focus RS via /r/cars

Review/AMA: One year and 19250 miles in the Focus RS

The car: a 2017 Focus RS in Nitrous Blue, RS2 trim, forged wheels and Pilot Super Sport tires https://i.imgur.com/Kk4agzw.jpg

The RS has been the subject of considerable disagreement over the past couple years, from being hailed as the second coming of the hot hatch to being dismissed as a harsh riding ugly also-ran in the segment. I bought mine on July 15, 2017 and have spent a year daily driving the hell out of it. I thought I'd offer my own perspective as an owner putting a lot of miles on it, while also being quite conscious of the platform's problems and limitations. The internet doesn't need another "this is how the RS drives" so instead I'd like to set this up as more of an AMA and a long-term ownership experience thread.

Frequently Asked Questions:

How much did it cost? Too much, probably. MSRP minus 1k, and then I bought all the backend warranties and products at a moderate price. Current pricing is 4k off or even more aggressive, which changes the economics a bit.

Does the ride suck? The owner base falls all over the map here, but in short I fall in the "yes, it rides poorly" category. Very early in the ownership, I decided it unlivable stock and my wife was actually getting seasick, so we swapped in Mountune springs ($250 parts/$350 install). These springs are stiffer and about 1/2" lower, but actually control the body and overdamped shocks much better. We then went (literally the next morning) on a 1400 mile roadtrip from Baltimore, MD to Andrews, NC for last year's total eclipse with no real complaints. I plan to try the DSC Sport Active Controller in the near future as it's reportedly able to massively improve the damping both for street and track driving.

Was the head gasket thing for real? Yeah, but as far as I'm concerned Ford investigated the problem, figured out a full solution, and took care of me just fine. My car passed initial testing and the recall was butter smooth. Others have admittedly not been so lucky. I have no concerns at all.

How is the fuel economy? About 21 mpg in true mixed driving without being overly aggressive, as high as 27 mpg for pure highway coasting.

Is it fast in a straight line? Depends on what you consider fast. It's about as capable overall as a stage 2 STI, but with a focus on mid-range rather than top end. It can feel somewhat restrained due to the lack of a distinct turbo rush. I'm going to have it tuned in the next 2-3 months to see if it wakes up more. Power dies at 6k and that can't be tuned out as it seems to be a turbo flow limitation, so you're typically short-shifting and riding on the copious torque.

Is it fast around turns? Holy hell yes, and in all weather to boot. The torque vectored AWD also makes it a very different car to drive, because a lot of the driving technique is about positioning the car to simply lay into the throttle on corner exit and let the car take care of it. In a Mustang, I try to find 100% of traction and balance the car there. In the RS, I take the car to 105% or more and let the computer redistribute the power and tighten the turn on the way out. As an RS Adrenaline Academy instructor put it, "the RS lets you get away with murder".

Is the racing school good? Recap: as part of the purchase, Ford allows you to attend their one day track program (RS Adrenaline Academy) in Tooele, UT in their prepped RSes. As someone who's always wanted to be on a track and never really had the chance, it was an incredible experience. I understand the car (and driving) so much better now, and in my eyes this is an incredible $1600 freebie Ford throws in that people should really factor into pricing. I also purchased a second day in prepped Mustang GTs.

Isn't the racing school just baked into the price? We asked about this, and the answer is that it's entirely funded by the Ford marketing budget. They know how many people will go, and it's promotional. So the car isn't "overpriced" by X dollars to cover it. Supposedly. You can argue about moving money from one hand to the other, but my experience with large orgs is when they say this sort of thing, they mean it.

Is it practical? For me, it's extremely practical and for one major reason: my dog fits in it. By the numbers, the car has a smaller interior than the Subaru or Honda competition. But my dog can sit/stand upright in the hatch area, and the dog crate fits neatly with the 60 split seat down. It's a little too tall to fit entirely in the trunk, owing to a high load floor to accommodate the AWD stuff. While the Honda technically holds "more stuff" overall, the sloped hatch is a problem in this specific respect for me. Subaru is a non-starter.

Has it had any problems? Other than the HG recall, no. Well, okay, a mouse ate a vacuum hose and made a nest under the engine cover. That was dumb and the dealership tells me they're seeing this more ever since the move to soy based composites. Thanks, environment.

Is the interior bad? Ok look, I came from a 2013 GR Subaru WRX and compared to that car this thing feels like I've been teleported fifteen years into the future. I'm also apparently the freak that thinks the Golf R is just not that special inside and the wide use of piano black is kind of offensive. The Civic Type R is awfully red inside - it's actually probably my favorite overall but is it dumb to say I'd rather have a volume knob than soft touch cup holders?

What about the seating? I'm extremely comfortable in this thing and the Recaros fit me wonderfully. I kinda get where people are coming from on the "high seating position" thing but as a towering man at 5'4", it's rare for me to object to a higher seat. What's weirder is that the seat slopes backwards as it lowers down, which seems like it would really suck for a tall person.

And the back seats? No family, so no one spends a lot of time back there. Again since we're short people, the leg room is fine in back. I think it might pogo a bit worse back there, but my wife seems to think that because the front seats hug you so well, you don't realize how much the bench seat passengers are being thrown around in turns. But generally, friends have accepted rides from me so I guess it's okay.

Is it worth it? Hoo boy. I'm happy I bought it and content with my choice. It is a great choice if you want an AWD hot hatchback. If you can compromise on any of those three, there are very possibly better ways to spend your money. I was unwilling to give up any of those, so my only options were Golf R and Focus RS.

Floor is open for questions, in case I've forgotten to cover anything that people might be curious about. I'm generally plugged into the forums and community for these cars, so I can discuss the platform overall pretty well.