#this is all I can manages cause I'm in the middle of brand new thing that I keep hyperfixating on

[daily-ethoslab]

[833] scribble cause I got super distracted today

[shysuccubusstuff]

dragon! Sylus hc:

Content: SFW + NSFW stuff; slight stalker behaviour + lovesick! sylus + size difference + established relationship + hemipenis (double dick, basically) + unrealistic sex + breeding kink + aftercare; non proof-reader.

Note: ofc I had to write something about this hunk-- I mean, I've been saving some wishes for him (got around... 46??) so yeah, I'm really close to pity so I hope to be lucky and get him cause he's so FUCKING hot with his tail and horns... Hope everyone is doing fine!! I already did the pulls, sadly I didn't get both, so now I'm stuck with one of them and one card for Sylus which is not the pair (I got Immobilized I think it's called). I haven't seen the actual story cause I still have the hope of getting it, so bear with me if I mess up/invent stuff cause, yk. I tried to do some research about how a dragon "thing" would work but damn, I ended up on a deep rabbit hole... let me know if you liked it ♡♡

Dragon! Sylus who finds you trying to steal his treasure. You look so tiny in contrast with him that it makes him want to eat you up ♡. Despite that, he restrians himself, not wanting to break his brand new toy so fast.

Dragon! Sylus who turns into his human form in fear of crushing you with one of his claws. Even despite he is several times smaller, you still look so tiny close to him... God, he really is trying his hardest you know?

Dragon! Sylus who acts all rough at first, threatening you with his mean words and his nasty demeanor when in reality he is dying to touch you. So he does, getting close to you so he can "threaten" you with his size, his tail slowly wrapping around your waist as he whispered his empty threats.

Dragon! Sylus who almost chuckles after seeing you retreat, one of your pockets filled with golden coins you had managed to "steal" (he let you take them, of course). Little did you know that this would basically give him a great excuse to follow you around, always feeling his pair of eyes piercing your back, always unable to find him among the crowd. Other times, he simply hid on the dark alleys, his red eyes glistening just from the idea of being found out by you.

Dragon! Sylus who is ecstatic when you finally regain your courage to return to him (his treasure). He has to try as hard as possible to avoid smiling like an idiot when he sees you amost trembling in front of him, yet you try to keep that brave facade.

Dragon! Sylus who keeps his act together, acting all high and mighty, acting as if he doesn't care when he sees your eyes sparkling, not because of him, but because of the great amount of fortunes he had gotten from all those years. Does it even make sense to feel jealous because of some stupid treasures?...

Dragon! Sylus who is able to slowly warm you up. It begins as a merely transactional relationship, always letting you get your way with him. You wanted his golden coins? Sure, take them. Needed some jewellery? Take what you want. Need a fast trip somewhere? You know he will let you ride him (funny word). Then, he gets more touchy, he starts by brushing your fingertips when the two of you walk through the gorgeous field of flowers, then catching you on his arms as you almost trip, finally allowing you to get on top of him as your hands touched his bare chest.

Dragon! Sylus who slowly gets accustomed to the human ways, slowly learning how to hide his horn and tails, then taking you to small dates around town, buying you anything your fingers touch with the excuse of "having too much gold pilling around was no fun".

Dragon! Sylus who learns about the human custom of gifting a ring to their loved one. He thinks about simply choosing one from his pile, but he finally decides to create a custom one. He spends several days working on it, thinking about the best design for it and what jewel would he want encrusted, finally choosing a red spinel.

Dragon! Sylus who confesses in the middle of the blooming field, getting on one knee and proposing to you, his heartbeat pumping rapidly, making him afraid of the possibility of you hearing it.

Dragon! Sylus who ends up shedding a few tears after you accept him. The tears rapidly dry because of his high temperature, but you kiss them, making him feel even more flustered.

Dragon! Sylus who almost drops the small snack you two had bought when you suddenly told him that you wanted him to do it, that you had been waiting for him to say anything. He tries to play it cool, acting as if he doesn't truly understand you, not like his grip turning the snack into bits.

Dragon! Sylus who sometimes snuck on your room, carefully sitting on your bed, laying on top of your chest and enjoying your sweet scent. The slit on his lower half opening and allowing his erection to rise. He tried to steady his breathing, afraid of being caught by you. He started to use his hand, slowly going up and down, as one of his hands caressed your hair. He knew it was wrong, of course he did, but his rut was far too close and this was the only way of keeping just enough sanity for him not to jump at you at the slightest touch.

Dragon! Sylus who tries his best not to hurt you, letting you ride you, his hands gripping your hips to avoid you taking more than you could handle. "Be careful, sweetie. There's no rush, we have all the time in the world." He keeps reassuring you as you try to get used to his whole lenght, his other cock rubbing against your tummy as you hug his back, your nails digging on his back as he slowly made his way into you.

"You're doing so well, sweetie. Remember to breath, yeah? I'm almost completely inside." He whispers into your ear, one of his hands petting your hair while the other keeps you in place.

Finally, you let out a heavy sigh, finally being able to rest while his tip rubs against your cervix. He keeps you there for a few seconds, letting you adjust to him until you start to move your hips, his hands now supporting your thighs. Despite the rhythm starts quite slow, Sylus soon takes charge of it, starting to speed up as he got closer. At the same time, he keeps leaving soft kisses all over your face, intercalating between soft pecks and his tongue exploring your mouth, sucking on your tongue or bitting your lower lip as an attempt of avoiding you getting cock-drunk.

"You said you were ready, where did all your spirit go, sweetie?" He pushed you away, forcing you to look him in the eyes as his hips kept slamming against you. "I do have to say that this look fits you quite well, here on my lap all dazed because of me. Sure you have to go back home? I could treat you so well here... Get you all knocked up and pretty, treat you like a queen every single day, just think about it." He forced you to keep the eye contact by keeping your chin up with one of his hands, the other pressing against your lower stomach so you could feel his tip constantly hitting against your G-spot.

Even as you tried to stop him from running his mouth, you were still far too dazed, fat tears running down your cheeks as he kept overstimulating you orgams after orgasm without giving you a single break. His grip on your hips tightening as his member started to twitch inside you. "Get ready sweetie, I'm close. Want me to fill you up? Get you pregnant with my seed so you can finally stay with me forever."

You nodded, your brain far too overwhelmed to make a coherent sentence, only beinf able to nod as you blabbered a few words: "Get me pregnant, please! Love you, love you so much! Just fill me up--- My brain is turning into mush!" He smiled wickedly, eyes glistening with desire as he got to mark you completely with his seed, his tongue exploring your mouth as he kept trying to keep himself as controlled as possible.

By the time you were back up, Sylus was resting under you, your face completely rested against his bare chest. "You did so good, sweetie. Let me take you to a lake I know, the water is quite warm at this time of the year, we can bathe together. Let me take care of you, I will clean you up." He kissed your forehead, taking you bridal style and starting to fly with you on his arms, one of them covering your face to avoid the air annoying you.

[vifilms]

we could go there | a. anderson

tags: eighteen+, sexual innuendoes, mentions of sex, jealousy, ow*n, beware i'm an ow*n hater 'nd i display that hatred here, two gays in love, fem!reader, fluff city, get a snack bc this is the longest fic i've ever posted.

a/n. hi guys. it's ray, again. as i begin to roll out content slowly, i want to make it clear, i fully support palestine. anyone who consumes my content, i strongly encourage to do the same. i have no patience for ignorance. below are links to take a look at. educate yourself, donate where you can, and reblog if you can't. hopefully you guys like this one, it's been a labor of love and a bit different than what i normally post. anyways, with love as always ♡

wc. 9k

DO NOT BUY TLOU, FUCK NEIL DRUCKMANN + EDUCATE YOURSELF + DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE + DONATE TO PALESTINE.

divider creds — @cafekitsune

Owen could not have been this fucking stupid. Practically trying to piss all over Abby as if she were something to own, some damn property to own, as if she wasn’t an actual person with feelings who could make her own decisions. The man only thought with his dick and the ugly green head growing endlessly. He only thought of what he wanted – never what she needs.

Meaning the only thought bouncing in your mind? Punching his crooked jaw.

To put it simply, Owen was not managing the breakup well by any means. It had been three months and still Owen continued to grab onto Abby like a leech. For this exact reason, you told Abby you wanted to keep whatever was happening between you away from prying eyes. Everything with Abby was still new, and you did not want to rush it. Ruin it even. Really, you wanted to stay in this small, secure bubble with her for the longest you could.

So, you kept it this way.

It was nice when it was just the two of you. Abby always likes to cook for you after a long week. Friday nights ending with her, a bottle of red on the dining room table, her cuddled up to your side. It surprised you how willing she was to be available for you each week, only missing one Friday due to a nasty cold. There were no prying eyes, no preconceived judgement – absolutely no expectations. Just you and those gorgeous blue eyes you couldn’t help but fall deeper for. With a soft familiar shine, every word she spoke dripped like pure honey all over your heart, making it brand new again.

You didn’t know what sweet was until her.

Never been more sure of it until now.

As if there was never an ache to be had, a heart broken – she seemed to seamlessly mend every broken piece of you.

You were so soft on her, and the Friday night dates only helped the cause. There wasn’t a damn thing you could do to help yourself from falling for her. Even when your knee jerk reaction is to run in the opposite direction, your feet stay glued to the ground. Kind words and services of affection gripped your heart with an iron fist and somehow, she managed not to break it.

You loved it. You were terrified. You want to run into her arms and never let go.

But of course, the man was the complication. The retched, jealous ex-boyfriend who could not imagine her being with a woman when he was right there. Owen always seemed to try and worm his way whenever he was around the two of you. Abby knew, just as well as you did, he wouldn’t be able to stomach you two together. So, she tried to keep it concealed for his sake and she wants to protect you. Owen is her loose end to tie; the last thing she wants is you in the middle of it.

Especially when things were going so well with you. Abby really had not expected to move on so fast, or at least find someone as amazing as you so soon, but you were right under her nose the whole time. She felt like an idiot for never recognizing it, but she thought better late than never, right? It’s overwhelming guilt consuming her, telling her it’s wrong to feel this happy so soon, but there’s no choice but to shove it down.

If she wants to be happy, pretend like the stress of Owen’s instigations aren’t getting to her, she needs to shove.

So, Abby shoves.

The stoic-blonde tries her best to hide what you two had from the rest of the group. Not until she dealt with her baby of an ex-boyfriend and his unresolved feelings. She just wanted to give him enough space to move on, but now it would be impossible.

She knew it and you did too. To Owen, it had been the most obvious. You were almost certain he was starting to put the two pieces together.

God was he being even more insufferable than ever.

It was nauseating you the way he was acting. He needed to be talking to Abby, sitting by Abby, touching Abby. Abby. Abby. Abby. The ignorant man’s mind focused on one thing, and it was his ex-girlfriend. Deep in his bones he believed there was still truly a shot and part of you thought there was. She did not like girls, or you, as much as she thought she did. She kept him around, never refusing what he wanted, and the two of you were not official.

You told yourself so many times, lies of assurance turned into fact in your mind, masking what the truth actually is.

Truly, there’s little to do.

Abby did not really owe you a damn thing.

Sure, she was available for you and those nights were everything to you. Most of them spent together ending with her fucking you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear before you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

You’re just a need for her to fill. A quick fuck, that’s all you are.

Persistent as ever, thoughts of doubt seemed to nag and linger throughout your head.

You’re not good enough for her.

She’ll run back to him.

Abby just wants your body, not you.

Everything had an expiration date and possibly, you need to start facing the harsh reality, she could not possibly be ready for all of this. Although, the possibility of her still hung up over Owen filled you up entirely with disdain.

What else were you supposed to think? Abby refused to cut ties; she wants to keep the two of you a secret. Even if she had been stuck to your side like glue all night, it did not stop the anxious feeling rumbling in the pit of your stomach.

You craved for more, but it could be possible you were just the building block until she found the next person to move onto. It’s not like Owen and her were some short-term fling. They had been together for years and clearly, he thought it would be for the long haul. He knew her in ways you couldn’t. The pair had been friends since they were kids. He gave her the support she needed when she lost her dad.

You could even understand how difficult it would be to give up someone like that, even if it was Owen. You would never blame her for not being able to let go of it. Never would you be able to forgive yourself if you held her to this crazy expectation, just like Owen did. So, you tried to hide for both of your sakes. It’s been easier in your relationship with Abby in the beginning. When it was new and fun, it went unnoticed.

But it clearly written all over the two of you tonight.

You were too drunk and even if Owen’s eyes were on the two of you, all you saw was her. Everyone was busy roasting marshmallows, still cool enough in beginning of spring, fire crackling as you watched it glow Abby’s features.

Her freckled cheeks and ivory skin sporting an orange hue and you were a little too obsessed with it.

She’s so beautiful. All you can think about is pressing your lips against hers, claiming her in front of everyone. It’s all you want.

But your own insecurity gets the best of you and somehow, it’s possible to dig down deep, suppressing the urge.

So, you try to place your focus elsewhere.

Even if being here with Abby, side by side, was a bad idea. She shoved her pussy in your face for consolation. You come with her, a party Owen would be at, and you finally get to eat her pussy out which you took full advantage of prior to arriving.

-

Ellie thought it would be important for the gang to get together before spring break rolled in and you had agreed along with Abby. Thankfully, Owen had shown up late and the only spot available to him was on singular chair across from where you were snuggled up with Abby on a two-seat bench.

Your hand on her thigh as you told her something dumb, silly even, but the smile on her burned so bright – you couldn’t help it. Any day of the week, it’s all you want. To see her happy, beaming. It just so happened to be your luck she did it often with you. She might’ve been cautious with Owen around, especially when it came to her proximity with you.

You’d eaten her out on your bed, before you rode in the passenger side of her jeep. Fuck, did you love how happy she looked, how relaxed she’d seemed. Abby didn’t tell you, but Owen had never even offered to do that before. The fact you had been begging for it unprompted had her heart pumping. Delicate hands running over her thick thighs as she let you spread them out wide before you made yourself comfortable between them.

She was replaying it over in her mind as she smiled wide at you. Abby could listen to you talk about whatever, forever. You made her feel good, didn’t ask her anything in return, but she would absolutely return the favor. Maybe by the end of the night, even.

It’s moments like these, making you believe this could be something special. Even convincing you Abby would want this with you, to be your girlfriend. For her to be yours seemed like a fever dream, but the more time you spent with her, you couldn’t deny it’s all you wanted. You were just terrified she couldn’t possibly want to be like this with you.

The uncertainty was a bitch and you felt like you were choking on it.

“Where’d you go, sweet girl?” Abby’s thumb smoothed over your chin. She wants to pull you in closer, claim you in front of everyone, but she doesn’t want to deal with the heat from Owen. Abby is fully capable of handling him, yet she can’t find it within herself to subject you to it.

It’s the last thing you deserve, not when you’ve been anything but perfect to her.

She tries to pretend the fear isn’t there as her throat bobs, attempting to swallow it down.

“Just thinking about…someone.” You drew out with a smirk on your face.

“Someone, hmm? Is a certain blonde the someone? Is she in the room with us?” Abby looks around in faux cluelessness. You have no choice but to laugh as she roasts two marshmallows for the two of you in one of her large hands.

“She might be, but she’s being silly right now. I’m not so sure anymore.” You teased, a smirk pulling at your lips. Abby likes how it feels to have your hand on her thigh, thumb rubbing back and forth. She’s thankful for the fuzzy, thick blanket placed over you both, concealing unwanted eyes from the affection.

The chilly, midnight air bites into your skin, it’s dropping more quickly than you anticipated but you’ll live.

Abby still feels the rapid beating of her heart, it’s deep in her soul. She wonders if you can feel it too. She takes a moment to look at you, really let her gaze fall on you and she knows how badly she’s fallen. It feels obvious, in the way her blue eyes are glossed over in love, the way she offered to roast your marshmallow for you, the way she insisted on sitting next to you whenever you were making your way over to the other bench with Jesse. She takes note of the black hoodie you’re wearing, the one you stole from her closet, her cheeks are crimson, but she’ll blame it on the cold if anyone asks.

Yeah, it’s the cold making her heart skip a beat.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?” Abby asks again, taking note of your body shivering before her.

“I-I’m fine, Abs. Promise?” But you weren’t. Your body was shivering, and you couldn’t speak without your teeth chattering.

“Oh yeah. You’re fine, right?” Abby taunts.

“Abby…please. Not right now.”

“What?”

“You know exactly what.”

“Maybe you should spell it out for me.”

“Now, you’re just being mean, Abs.” You begged, pleaded with her to let this go. You didn’t need another reason for him to judge either of you. The two of you already had been more affectionate than you wanted to be in front of Owen.

“Oh, I’m the mean one?” She tilted her head cockily, her tongue poking the inside of her cheek. Dangerously leaning into you as her eyes took a quick glance at your lips. Forbidden fruit she could only have in the safety of your apartment or hers. Made her full warm, her mind wondering about how you made her feel. All the things you’d done to her, how you always picked up when she called, how you seemed to know what to say and at the right times.

It’s not fair.

“Tonight, you are.” You replied, trying to see if there was another conversation to escape into, but everyone was engaged in conversation, except for Owen. He was looking right at you, furrowed eyebrows and jaw clenching as he took Abby’s undivided attention directed towards you.

“He’s looking right at us, Abby. You guard dog looks like he wants to choke me out.” You turned towards her muscular frame, only to find she has leaned in even more. God, she was trying to torture you. Infinitely so.

“Well, he’ll have to get in line.” Abby teased, dropping a wink that made you feel hot in the bitter cold.

“Baby, you’re killing me.” You lightly pushed her, laying your head against her shoulder.

“Calling me baby in public? Are you trying to torture me…baby?” Abby whispered in your ear as she maneuvered her free hand underneath the blanket and interlocking with yours. She kept it against her thigh, but it was her turn to rub her thumb against your skin.

“No can even hear us.”

“Would you care even if they could?” You paused for a moment as you contemplated.

Would you truly? Owen’s reaction wouldn’t be the best, but it would take the relief off your shoulders. Honestly, you would have been nervous if Abby was truly serious about this.

About you, but she’s not.

“You’re holding my hand, Abby.” You sighed, content with her warm fingers heating up your freezing ones.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking doing more than just holding your hand.” Abby rested her head against yours, “But I’ll settle for this, at least for right now.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re pretty much all I think about these days, especially after you ate me out this afternoon.” You feel the heat even in the freezing cold, taking the sharp remark right off your tongue.

She was smirking wildly at her accomplishment, until she noticed the glare being sent her way.

Abby stares at Owen and she can tell how angry he looks, but she knows better than anyone he’s all bark and no bite. He won’t say anything to her right now, not until she’s alone. He doesn’t want you around when he says what he needs to.

Abby knows what he wishes to tell her. It’s been on the tip of Owen’s tongue after the breakup, but it’s a little too late. She doesn’t care to hear how sorry he is. It’s holding no weight. He only wants to fix things once he’s turned her into an afterthought. It makes her feel sick, unwanted even.

She feels none of those things when she’s with you. All the doubt, self-hatred, and regret piles in the back of her throat when she thinks about Owen. His presence no longer provides her with comfort and safety. All she sees is the blood on his hands and it fuels her with rage. She shouldn’t feel this way. Abby doesn’t want to, so she drowns herself in you.

Abby can’t feed into his delusion anymore; she knows she can’t. Not if she wants to keep you around and keep you happy.

Owen knows his limits. Abby will never talk to him if he interrupts her while she’s preoccupied with you, she’ll be out for his neck if he tries anything, the look she was giving told him that.

“Would you just stop being stubborn and take my jacket?” Abby speaks quietly. She removes the marshmallows from the pit of the fire, and you grab the graham crackers and the chocolate with your free hand.

Purposefully, you ignored her comment.

“You know, this would be easier if you let go of my hand.”

“Not going to happen, gorgeous.” Abby chuckled as she watched you struggling to remove the graham cracker from the plastic encasing. She takes in the way your eyebrow furrows in concentration, trying to get this god-awful plastic away from the treasure. Plump lips pouting, practically begging for assistance.

“Abbbyyyyyy.” You grunt, clearly frustrated with the damn crackers.

“Do you want my help, baby?” She asks innocently, but there’s nothing innocent about her voice. It makes you want to fuck her right in front of everyone. Especially with Owen watching. Yeah, fuck him. Why did you have to suffer for his shortcomings? Clearly, he wasn’t good enough for her, but you would be. You’d treat her like she fucking deserves. In your bones, deep in your very being, you would never make her feel like Owen did.

She’s perfect in your eyes. So precious and joyful, she made you feel good, and you hoped you did the same for her. Carefully, she set the marshmallows she’d be holding on the skewers and placed them carefully in your lap.

“Give it here, baby.” Abby’s delicious, big palm inviting you to place the bag in her hand and you did. It shouldn’t have been as sinful as it is, but she barred her teeth on the seam, creating a tear, placing the crackers on her lap. Immediately, Abby rested her head against yours once again. It made your heart skip a beat; how close she wants to be with you tonight.

Secretly, it’d been kind of an unspoken agreement when she was with Owen. Abby didn’t like public affection, never really had been into it. Made her feel nauseous at the thought. So, Owen stopped trying and because of it you’d make a point to never push more than she was ready for. But making her come on your tongue three times before you left the coziness of your apartment brought it out of her. Somehow, you had managed to subdue her into a needy, whining little girl who needed your touch, or she just might just die right then and there.

It's what you told yourself. You weren’t quite sure what else to believe.

Abby knew the truth; she’d been hiding tucking it away for safe keeping. She could let you know when she was ready, but right now, mindlessly she let herself lean into your body. With an open heart, Abby allows herself to feel the warmth and comfort only you could provide. The soft feeling in her heart she’d never felt with anyone else.

Silently, you brought your eyes to connect with Dina’s before she dropped a not-so-subtle wink.

Dina was the one who convinced you to even go for it in the first place with Abby. You really didn’t want to pick on the dead carcass of her fall out with Owen, but it was clear to everyone just how much Abby cared for you. Dina was sure the braided blonde didn’t even know it herself at the time, but anyone with eyes could see.

All of it had been so easy, being with her was the most natural thing in the world. This right here; she’s the blueprint for what it’s supposed to be like. It helps she’s sweet on you, more than anyone has ever been. You wish you could look at her right now. The beanie was so goddamn cute on her. She looked too good with her bomber jacket, the one she offered to you insistently. Repeatedly because she knew how damn cold you are. But you’d prefer her cuddled up into your side — her body heat felt better than any coat could.

“Do you have the chocolate?” Abby asks sweetly and you hand it to her, and she breaks up a handful of bars as she places on top of the the graham crackers she pulled out of the bag. “Can you?” She lets the end of her sentence drag off, but you know exactly what she needs.

You lift your head from her shoulder, and she pouts at the disconnect.

“Why’d you move?” She brings her hand closer to her inner thigh and it’s when you feel the bulge concealed beneath her trousers. You don’t say anything — you don’t want to spoil the fun she clearly has planned. Although, it makes you feel heated. The intention behind it sent shivers down your spine, goosebumps spreading all over your skin.

“You’re being stubborn, Abs.” You huffed trying to pull your hand away, but her grip tightens.

Got it. Better not poke the bear.

“Just place it right there. I’ll remove it from the skew.” You listen to her, picking up the first one and placing it delicately on top of the chocolate, and you slowly pull it away as Abby looks you dead in the eye. Making s’mores feels more sensual than it should be, but maybe just being around her makes you feel this way.

It’s just her making the tingling feeling between your thighs reignite.

Abby’s hands are sticky from the roasted pillow of sweet, white substance stuck around her fingers. Her heavy-lidded eyes, look down at her fingers before looking back at you. She seemed to be in a daze, thinking of something else. You could guess exactly what Abby was thinking of.

“I would ask you to clean it for me if we were alone, but this will have to do.” She slides her forefinger and middle in her mouth, and god, you’re imagining it. Your mouth wrapped around her thick fingers, tongue circling around it as if it was her cock fucking your mouth. It got her off just as much as you did.

She liked to have you like this, completely and utterly under her control.

Abby pulls off with a hardly subtle pop, her lips are moist and fuck, her fingers are incredibly wet. You can practically feel your cunt purring at her, the throbbing insatiable as you’re looking at your pretty girl like she’s a slab of meat to be butchered and slaughtered. Really, you can’t help it.

The sex isn’t just good. It’s fucking amazing. Stupidly obvious in the way it just makes sense with Abby. She’s reminding you of it, as she gestures for you to pick up the second skew. Sticky fingers getting caught on the marshmallow again, cleaning it off with her mouth again. Breathy, quiet, moan slips out before you can catch it and she’s smirking so loudly you want to kiss it off her deeply cocky face.

“Hm, guess I can’t blame you for getting all hot and bothered. I know how much you love my fingers. Especially when they’re inside you, huh? Just a little bit of déjà vu from last week.” Abby teased lightly.

“You’re going to pay for this.” Threatening the blonde beauty as you grabbed the finished s’more, and she grabbed the other one.

“Am I?” Abby’s voice dropping an octave lower than how she usually talks. Trying to do her best to bring out all the stops to do her best to effectively ruin you.

The answer to her question is left open in the air, the two of you silently finishing off your s’mores, her hand still in yours. Abby doesn’t want to let go. Even wants to hold your hand on top of the blanket, for everyone to see, but she doesn’t want anyone to ruin the moment. She’ll take for this now, but knowingly will push for more for later. When you’re ready for it. It’s still fresh, new and she needs to learn to be patient even if it’s the last thing she wants to do.

This time Abby is leaning her head on your shoulder. She takes in your sweet sent, pine mixed with vanilla, and it intoxicates her. Owen is finally engaged somewhere else besides her. It’s a relief. To not feel his accusatory eyes on her. Abby doesn’t want to feel guilty about her affection towards you. You’re too lovely for this to be seen as anything but beautiful.

She won’t let anyone take this away from either one of you.

You engage in conversation with Ellie and Dina, they’re to the left of you where you and Abby are sat. Dina’s, making you laugh about something stupid Ellie did earlier this week. Ellie claims it’s not nearly as stupid as Dina makes it out to be, which only sends you and Dina through a tailspin.

It obviously was just as idiotic as it sounds, but what Dina says next brings Abby to full attention.

“Hey, were you going to call Leah back? She sounds pretty interested in seeing you.” Dina questions you, a smirk playing at her lips, and it makes you want to scream.

Fuck.

Dirty fucking Dina.

She played it off as coy, maybe Abby wouldn’t question Dina’s intentions, but she sure as hell would give yours a second thought. Ellie let a small chuckle, earning a death glare from Abby. It was painfully obvious to the couple the feelings you felt towards one another, but neither of you took steps towards making it official.

“Leah?” Abby questions, her grip on your hand tightens, afraid if she eased up, you might slip.

“Y-Yeah, just a girl I met at the work event I told you about.” You let out, trying to land the blow gently but it already had made its impact with Abby. There was nothing gentle about the knife she felt in her heart.

Abby’s jaw clenches too many times for you to count, her grip is cruel, and she won’t meet your eyes. She suddenly finds the flames in front of her incredibly interesting. Ember reflects from Abby’s eyes, they’re still blue, but icy as you try to find them, but she refuses.

You want to tell her it’s innocent. It doesn’t mean anything, and it really doesn’t. You felt stupidly insecure that night. Pleading Abby to come with you, but it was Owen’s birthday dinner, and she couldn’t make it. Felt like a horrible slap in the face for her to pick him over you even after the breakup. One cocktail turned into five and before you knew it, you put your number into a pretty girl’s phone. She danced with you, she flirted, and it felt nice to be someone’s priority, their full attention seated with you.

The night ended with a sweet kiss on the lips, a promise she would text, and you would call her. Leah made good on her promise, and you found yourself falling incredibly short of yours. Abby came over around midnight, it felt a punch to the gut to make time for you now but not before. Yet, you let her in even after how miserable and alone her actions made you feel.

All you see is her. Her lips and the voice you love. She makes the anger melt away as if she wasn’t the one to instigate it in the first place.

She apologizes for not taking you up on the offer. Her puppy eyes pleading for forgiveness. She has a tote full of goods which allow her to breach past your door. Chocolate covered strawberries, a bottle of your favorite red wine, the ingredients for your favorite dinner, and tempting lips you’ll know will have their way with you by the end of the night. Abby knows just as well as you do, both of you are fucked.

It’s the first time she stays over at your place, and it feels solidified. This could all end up in flames, with both of you burned, but somehow it feels worth the risk. The light glistens through the bedroom window as it shines on her eyes, the blue standing out as she looks on your sleeping form. Black sheet concealing your body from her. Then it’s almost like you know she’s watching you and your eyes open meeting hers.

Smiling softly, it reaches your eyes, and your head nuzzles into her chest, sighing contently. Before, your brain could excuse how you felt, but after that night, it had changed. You realized just how much Abby had wormed her way into your heart, into your soul – you didn’t wish for her to leave.

But it still didn’t negate what you felt, the fear of losing her to someone she might still be in love with. Yeah, so she did feel remorseful for picking him over you, it didn’t mean she still didn’t care about him. It was Abby – of course she did. Everything was still so new, there wasn’t enough foundation to land on, for either of you to be sure. You had to hope it was strong enough to support the two of you.

You felt lonely, and Abby wasn’t there to give you the comfort you needed so this was your way of lashing out without speaking to her about it. It was small, but the thought echoed and occupied all the space in your brain.

She’ll leave you for a man, they always do. How could this be any different?

Past experiences drawing the conclusion for you, instead of actually speaking with her about how you felt, leaving Dina to air out your dirty laundry.

Dina kept talking, but she changed the subject. Still, didn’t stop how tense Abby is. She refused to notice anyone, her focus trained on the flames in front of her, anger brewing beneath the surface. You were holding onto the fact she hadn’t let go of your hand. Maybe you could settle your strong headed, burly bear.

You’d seen a couple times just how protective she could be over you. The fact you were possibly entertaining someone else, besides her, stung.

Everyone else had funneled inside, but Abby stayed by your side. She still wouldn’t look at you. She was as stoic as you’d ever seen her. She still wouldn’t keep her eyes off the fire, it was dying out and it felt like there wasn’t much you could do but watch it with her.

Owen would get exactly what he wanted. Maybe the two of you would never even become a thing because of your fatal case of loneliness. It made you nauseous. He didn’t deserve her, but it seems neither did you.

“So, who’s this Leah?” Abby broke the silence, her voice cracking in the process. “A-And why didn’t you tell me about her?”

You bite on your bottom lip, tugging it so carelessly you could taste the iron.

“It’s not important. She’s not important.” You reassure, but it doesn’t offer Abby much comfort.

“Obviously she’s important enough for Dina to know about her and not me.” Abby bites, her tone colder than it ever has been directed towards you.

“It’s not what you think, Abs.” You pause, not wanting to lie to her. You can see the self-doubt swimming in her eyes, and you need to do your best and reassure her, nothing is going on. “It was before, you know, that night.”

“So, you were seeing her? Both of us at the same time.” She thinks it’s not even a question. She states it as if there is nothing to be found but truth. It feels like there is a blade in Abby’s back, one you put there yourself, but now she’s only feeling the wound.

“No, baby, will you just let me explain?” Abby nods, allowing you to continue.

This won’t break everything will it? You should have told her. It really was stupid not to, silently cursing at yourself.

You’re going to kill Dina for exposing you like this. Fuck. Damn the red wine and her loose lips.

“The night we were fighting about you coming as my plus one or going to Owen’s dinner? Do you remember that?” She nodded her head, waiting for you to continue. “Well, I sort of, met someone the same night. She gave me her number and we kissed.”

“Huh.” It was more bitter than contempt. Rage? You weren’t sure.

“You’re mad.” Abby’s jaw clenched; her grip was tight again. “I’m sorry, okay? In my head, you had abandoned me for him. I was lonely and hurt. I just wanted you there with me, yet you went with him, and it felt nice to have someone’s attention. It was stupid. I only did it because I felt like I didn’t have yours.”  

“Did, um, you ever see her after that?” Abby looked at you, finally. Her eyes begging for the answer she needed. Preparing for the worst but found herself hoping for the best.

“Abby?” You tilted your head to the side.

“What?”

“Do you really think I would?”

“I don’t know. I thought I was the only girl you were kissing.”

“Well…we do a little more than kiss.” You teased lightly, a smirk on your face.

“Stop being cute right now, it’s not fair.” The blonde pouts, upset she couldn’t stay upset. “I deserve to be angry right now.”

“Do you?” You leaned in closer, your breath kissing Abby’s face. “Last time I checked, I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Baby.” Abby whines, her frustration wasn’t holding. It never really did, but you did have a point. Neither of you had made this official, but Abby would argue it sure did feel like it.

“Look, I know we decided to keep things just been us, not really label it, because of your messy breakup with Owen. We were still trying to figure out what this was, and it was new and terrifying for you.” Your free hand found purchase on the end of her braid, tugging at the open strands, your thumb smoothing over it.

“I respected your decision and I’ve kept this between us. I mean, our friends do have eyes and it’s not like we’re exactly doing a good job of hiding it anymore.” You laughed softly and Abby was sporting a hint of a smile on her face.

 “That night when I spent time with Leah, I let my insecurities get the best of me. All I could think about was you and Owen. I had convinced myself you were getting back together with him, and this is why you had ditched me. It’s not an excuse, I should have told you about it, but what else am I supposed to believe?”

You took a deep breath, trying to control your emotions. You didn’t want to break down in front of her, but someone had to start this conversation. Abby sure wouldn’t. If it made you the bad guy, so be it.

“Even now, he’s still a concern. He looked like his head was going to blow off from pure despite. We’re still hiding. I can’t just sit here and pretend I’m okay with this anymore. I deserve to be with someone who can hold me hand in front of our friends.” You sighed, pulling away from her entirely, stepping towards the flames. It was time for the two of you to come to an end. It’d be better for the two of you, before either of you gets too invested and someone ends up really hurt. Sick and wretched filling gnawing at your heart, telling you it is already a little too late for that.

You love her, but you love yourself a little more. It’s not her fault, but your past girlfriends always burned you because of the ex-boyfriend. Broken promises of a future together until they crawled their way back to where they put themselves, back in the closet. The shame of liking girls, you, too much for them to bear.

Ending the same, your heart beaten to a pulp before you stitch yourself together again.

Abby hasn’t disagreed with anything you’ve said, making you believe she still holds a torch for him. The single thought alone makes you feel nauseous. Just being a placeholder, whether it be for Owen or someone else.

She stayed fucking quiet, and it only pissed you off.

This is it, the final nail in the coffin.

“Abby, I think we should put a pin in this. I-I’m sorry. I know you’ve apologized since that night, but I can’t see past him. Not if this isn’t going to become more. I need more than this.” You confessed to her, continuing to walk away from a still silent Abby.

It wasn’t fair how much you cared for her, possibly even love. Finding yourself choking on it and she seemed to be doing just fine with the thought of never having it again.

Maybe she was still in love with him after all. How fucking pathetic does this make you?

-

Abby was stoic the rest of the night. Owen noticed the space between the two of you and tried to use it to the best of his abilities once everyone was sitting around the couch, watching a classic Christmas film. The rest of the group was adding commentary when considered necessary, stuffing their mouth full of chocolate goodies and kettle corn. Trying but failing, you couldn’t focus on the movie. Not one bit.

All you could think about is how quiet she became, hands stuffed in her pocket as she watched you end things and didn’t pipe in once. It was clear you overestimated your importance to her. A rebound. A steppingstone. An experiment. You hated all of it. You hated thinking about it. All your fears about her came true and now you’d have to pick up the pieces alone.

She would go back with Owen. She’d never consider you an actual option. You would give her the whole world if she asked, but that was just it, she hadn’t. She wouldn’t. Not in the entirety of the four months you spent together. Abby was always trying to protect his feelings, but never considering she was shattering yours into tiny little pieces.

Making yourself scarce to the kitchen, Owen’s cocky smile and Abby’s avoidance to meet you in the eyes was allowing yourself to drown in self-depreciation. You couldn’t stand it. So, you chose the most delicious vice you could think of – chocolate covered strawberries.

It would do for now, until your heartache subsides, allowing yourself to get a grip on it. You were halfway into your fourth one when she walked in, of course she would. Fucking hell.

Your eyes trained on the food in front of you as you took another bite.

Don’t look at her. Don’t look at her. Don’t look at her.

She let you stand there in the cold, like a pathetic, lonely loser practically begging her to say anything and she stuffed her big, lovely hands in her jacket pockets and stayed silent. Abby doesn’t care, her conscious won’t let her be the one who’s hurt you. All she wants is to make amends; she doesn’t want you.

The seasonal depression has its tight hold on you, and Abby unwillingness to catch you, fuck, it makes you want to punch her stupidly gorgeous face. Who gave her the right to make you feel this way? Painfully, you see in your peripherals her hands twitching by her sides, standing in front of the door, at least supplying a barrier from everyone but you can see the uneasiness in her.

But you do look at her.

You wish you hadn’t.

Abby isn’t moving besides her hands; she’s shed herself of the coat and she’s in a sweater you bought for her with a chain around her neck that you also had gifted her on her birthday. It’s not fair to you how cozy she looks, how much you want to escape into her arms and welcome the comfort she would offer in a heartbeat. Her body runs like a human furnace.

You crave for her to tell you everything is going to be alright; you want her to reassure you with her lips on your temple, you want to bury your face in the crook of her neck and focus on her heartbeat. You’re still so damn cold, even in this heated house. Your body craves her comfort more than you want to admit, it’s become second nature.

Her hair is falling past her shoulders, beanie has been abandoned. Abby combs her fingers through her hair, giving them something to do because she’s almost certain she’s going to faint from seeing your pretty eyes glossed over. You’re drowning in something sweet, no doubt due to the bitter taste Abby left in your mouth.

It makes you even more uneasy the two of you were supposed to share a bed tonight. After everything, you didn’t trust yourself around her. Not one bit. Even if you were hurt, the second she put her arm around you, all anger would be thrown at the window. You didn’t want her to drive this late, it wasn’t safe. The roads were beginning to ice over and Abby hates driving at night. The only other room big enough for two was Owen’s and the thought made you want to puke all over him.

She finally spoke up and you were strangely thankful for it. You weren’t sure where your thoughts would’ve gone, resentment growing with them.

“I know you probably won’t believe me but I’m sorry. I should have asked you how you were feeling about all of it.” Abby apologized, but she hadn’t moved an inch. “I just thought…” She left you hanging, basically prying your lips open for a response.

“What?”

“There hasn’t been anyone else for me, okay? I-I don’t want anyone else.” She looked around the room, trying to focus her attention on anything else but your undivided attention. Her palms were sweating as she wiped them on her sweatpants. “Can I tell you something without you totally making fun of me for it?”

“I would never make fun of you, Abby. Not like this.” You offer a gentle smile, encouraging her. She knows now what she should’ve done before – fight for you.

Abby thinks it’s why you’re avoiding looking at her. She can see the wanting in your eyes. If you’re not looking closely enough it drowns in disappointment, but it’s still there. Abby recognizes the look; it’s how she looks at you. Disappointment can’t be found, but her love for you can.

The most perfect girl for her. Fuck, she’d found a way to ruin it.

You’re really the only person who puts up with her day-to-day shit and you don’t complain. You’re you about it. Incredibly graceful, sort of hurts Abby’s cheeks because it makes her smile so damn much. She’s taken advantage of your kindness, and she needs to make sure she does everything in her power to make amends.

“It’s okay, Abby. Whatever happens, you always have a safe space with me.” Reassuring her while biting into another strawberry.

You’re still so sweet. Fuck, Abby wants to kiss you, hard.

“I really believed I was in love with Owen, I care about him. He was there for me when shit hit the fan. Sometimes, I feel like I owe him because of it.” Abby took a breather as she stepped forward, but you stayed sitting on countertop.

“It’s not fair to you and it is sort of my fault he hates you so much. I just want to protect you from it, but I haven’t done a very good job. It’s really embarrassing for me to admit this.” Abby sighed as she stood in front of you, her big frame standing between your spread legs, a snug spot for her to fit into.

You tilted your head at her curiously. “Just tell me. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”

“It is.”

“Abby?” You questioned her, but still chose to be tight lipped. “If you want to fix this, I need you to talk.” The cocky attitude had evaporated from earlier, leaving you with one you usually got. The girl who was too afraid to kiss you on the first night. Arguably, you like this version of her a little more.

“I, um, so, I sort of kind of used to think of you when Owen and I used to have sex.”

“Um, okay? Is there a reason I need to know this?”

“Well, the reason I think he hates you so much, on top of me kind of being all over you all the time is….”

“Abby, if you don’t tell me right now, I swear to god.”

“Okay, okay.” Abby took a deep breath before she let the confession tumble from her lips. “Whenever we would, you know, I would always kind of sort of, call out your name instead of his.”  Abby mumbled, closing her eyes in shame.

“Baby….you’re kidding.” An itch to laugh bubbles, but you’re able to muffle your giggle enough.

“Would you, you know, not laugh at me.” Abby sighs. “See! This is why I didn’t want to tell you. It’s embarrassing.”

“I’m not laughing at you, it’s him. He couldn’t even fuck you good enough to get your poor, gay brain off of me, huh?” Abby let you tease her, your smile, an equal trade for her pride. Her hands glide along your thighs, igniting a fire beneath your skin.

Abby loses the hint of teasing when she responds, “Yes, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I never stop.” Abby took a step forward, your pelvis pressed and to her, legs latched around her toned waist.

“I’m supposed to be mad at you.” She leaned forward, peppering kisses along your neck, you're gripping onto the chain around her neck, your initial engraved on the pendant. Boy, does she make you want to forget about everything as her teeth latch lightly, giving you a playful bite before her tongue soothes over the ache.

“Abs, fuck um don’t you think we should talk first?” Your strong resolve from earlier fading into the tranquility of Abby’s comforting arms.

“Okay. Then, talk babygirl.” She continues to kiss your neck as your neck as you struggle to find your footing.

“I-I just, um, I need…” Subconsciously, your fingers dip into her blonde waves, tugging at the root slightly.

“C’mon, use your words. You did a pretty good job earlier you know, felt a little humiliated back there.”

“Really?”

“What?”

“Abby…It was Dina. I never would have brought Leah up like that. Truthfully? I wasn’t going to bring her up at all.” Abby frowned, lips pouting, clearly frustrated.

She was red, tense, and the jealousy in her gray hues burned bright. Carefully, her hands gripping on your thighs, giving them a light squeeze.

“I didn’t like hearing about another girl kissing you. Someone else who isn’t me…it pisses me off.” Abby sighed, look down at your sweats. “Not hearing it from you just made it so much worse for me.”

With the admission, you tugged her closer to you, resting your hands on her defined traps, caressing the nape of your neck.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I should have told you and I didn’t.” You tugged her closer, if it was even possible, letting the safety of her arms comfort you. “Dina just wants me to admit to you how I feel. It’s why she said it.”

Abby perked up at your confession, neatly placed in the palm of her hand.

“How do you feel?” She asked, cresting some distance between the two of you, pulling you out of the crook in her neck, a new home you’d taken residence.

“One condition…”

“Yeah?” You grasp her chin, tilting her head up slightly, grip tight.

“Next time we’re fighting, and I ask you to say something, you better speak next time or so help me god…” You trailed off but Abby couldn’t take it anymore. She had been dying to kiss you all night, since you’d done the service of your sweet, skilled mouth eating her out like you were personally starved.

“It’s cute, baby.”

“I was talking. Abby?” She silent as you wait for Abby to respond but she just cocks her head to the side, a smirk plastered on her face.

She leans in, whispering in your ear, “You can keep talking. Just let me return the favor from earlier.”

Abby doesn’t give you much time to respond before she’s removing your legs from around her waist, her pretty honey-blonde hair is thrown into a low bun in preparation as she offers her hand, and you take it as she helps you off the countertop.

Abby catches you, strong arm around your waist pulling your body against her.

“How does that sound? You, bossing me around and giving you a reminder of just why you put up with my bullshit. Yeah?” You come down to your natural height, Abby’s presence even more damning. It didn’t matter if she was taller or just a bit shorter than whoever she was around, the confidence she exhibited was fucking damning.

She’s so broad, big, and intimidating and she’s willing to sink to her knees for you. Abby licks her chapped lips until they become shiny and pink.

Fuck, she has to be doing it on purpose at this point.

You nod but she makes no movement to take this somewhere.

“First, tell me how you feel.” Abby rubs her thumb over your soft skin, caressing your cheek with a delicate touch. “C’mon, I mean I might know but I just need to hear it.”

“I just, I’ve been wanting for us to make it exclusive…just me and you. Tired of hiding, in front of our friends especially. I want you to be my girlfriend.” You admit sheepishly, eyes trained on the floor until Abby tilts your head vertically by gripping your chin.

“Baby, it’s all I want you. Jus’ you and I against the world. Yeah?” Abby’s lips mesh with yours, the fit is perfect as if your earlier problems hadn’t melted away.

They didn’t. They were still there, but you could work through them together. You and your girlfriend, against the world, together.

reblogs are appreciated! ♡

[cornertheculprit]

one thing i rarely ever see mentioned is maya's disillusionment with the fey clan over the course of trials and tribulations as well as her own struggles with the idea of becoming the master. it's first mentioned near the middle of the stolen turnabout, where phoenix mentions maya hasn't been back to kurain village in a "long time" (which is the same way he refers to the last time he saw mia, implying that maya hasn't been back to the village since before 2-4):

Phoenix: (Now that I think about it... Maya hasn't been back to Kurain Village in a long time...)

and then, at the end of the stolen turnabout, mia says this:

Mia: I'm just joking, Phoenix. Don't take everything so seriously. But on the other hand, Maya... She seems kind of lost these days.

Phoenix: You mean about becoming the Master of the Kurain Channeling School?

Mia: Becoming the Master... means saying goodbye to our mother.

and it becomes even more apparent in bits and pieces throughout recipe for turnabout, though it isn't obvious at first because it's the type of dialogue you only get when you present profiles and other things:

Maya: Well, I'm kind of taking a break... I'm having a bit of trouble right now, you know?

Phoenix: (Last year's incident must still be on her mind... I haven't seen Maya train at all since that time. I think Mia said it's because Maya's at a loss these days...)

[...]

Armstrong: You 'ave la perfect face for a waitress, you know.

Maya: Um, thanks. I guess if things don't work out someday, then maybe I'll be back.

Phoenix: (What things? Is she talking about her being a spirit medium...?)

and then it culminates near the end of bridge to the turnabout, where she outright states that she wants nothing more to do with they fey clan:

Godot: ...Witness, please tell us your name and profession.

Maya: Maya Fey. My profession is... Umm... I'm the assistant manager at Wright & Co. Law Offices.

Phoenix: (Maya...)

Judge: According to the magazine I have here... ...you're a spirit medium of the Kurain Channeling Technique...

Maya: ... I... I'm frightened. The Fey clan... I don't want any more to do with it.

Phoenix: (Oh, Maya... The pain the Fey bloodline causes must be unbearable...)

and it's something that makes me question her decision to keep training to be the master, because the end of bridge to the turnabout outright states that the reason maya is staying so chipper and happy is because she's trying to be strong for pearl. which is understandable! and at the end, all phoenix and maya are trying to do is cheer pearl up, which ultimately leads to this:

Phoenix: This is a day to remember. A day when a lot of things were finally put to rest. I think we should celebrate what we've overcome today.

Pearl: B-But... I-I still can't...

Bikini: ...Oh, go on, sweetie. You can come back for training anytime.

Pearl: Um... OK!

Maya: Alright! I'm going to make a brand new start, too! Sister Bikini! I'll be back for more training! I promise!

Bikini: I know, and I won't go easy on you just because you're the future Master. I'll make sure to prepare reservations for three for when you come back! Wa ha ha ho ho ho hee hee hee!

Maya: Alright! We're going to have a great feast today, Pearly. You know why? Because training is a battle of endurance!

Pearl: OK, Mystic Maya! I... I'll eat lots and lots of food tonight!

maya puts on a determined face and says that she's going to make a "brand new start" and then proceeds to say that she's going back into training and that pearl should too—she's still in the process of actively attempting to coax pearl out of her sad shell and help put a smile back on her face after everything that's happened. more than that, the entire endgame of morgan's plan was to put pearl in the master's seat instead of maya even if it would lead to pearl being miserable, and god knows all maya wants is for pearl to be happy. so it makes me think that maya, being the self-sacrificing person she is, really only wants to become the master so that pearl won't have to. there are other factors of course (the burden of misty and mia's legacies, for one) but i think pearl is her main motivation. she wants her little cousin to smile again and if that means smiling herself and taking on the burden of the master then so be it. even if she wants nothing more to do with the fey clan anymore. someone's gotta do it and it might as well be her.

[tiktaalic]

I hope these questions don't annoy you, but whats it like working in a lab?

I'm considering the same career path cause I really like my lab classes so far

Not annoying! from what ive seen there are 3 or so types of labs, which are labs in the hospital, which are obviously a faster pace (did half of my preceptorship in one), reference labs, which get a fairly high volume since they're doing testing everybody's sending out for (did other half of my preceptorship in one), and privately owned labs which pick up samples from clinics urgent cares nursing homes etc (both of my jobs have been with private labs).

I like it! It's very routine. I have my set of tasks i do when i clock in and my set of tasks i do at the end of the night and in between I'm just sticking samples on the machines and releasing results. and there is imo enough variation to it to keep it interesting - troubleshooting failed qc, or double checking criticals, or having to do manual difs. if you're liking undergrad lab work I'm assuming you're doing stuff like pcr and gels and micro plates? which is a lot of what molecular departments do in a lab besides micro which is micro. I currently work in the core portion of a lab, which is hematology, coagulation, urinalysis, and chemistry. You really only break out the microscope for urinalysis and hem. we have a micro department that handles all the cultures, and a molecular department that does molecular testing. lots of labs have small micro factions and do lots of micro send out instead. the last lab i worked at did that. the hospital i did my preceptorship at would do plating, but then send all the plates out to be read and send out all the blood culture tubes to be cultured elsewhere. the lab I'm currently at does most cultures in house.

re: education to work in a lab you have to be ASCP certified. After I got my biology degree, I enrolled in texas tech's CLS certification program, which was 3 semesters of classes (preceptorships were the majority of the coursework the last semester). I didn't mind doing it because I was a fresh graduate and I didn't want to Career Hunt or go to grad school. so 3 sems to get a guaranteed job sounded great to me. Since I had my bio degree, I had most of the baseline credits out of the way. chem biochem ochem cell bio genetics etc etc. And the 3 sems I did were lab specific courses like blood banking, clinical chemistry, molecular methods, immunology, phlebotomy, lab management, clinical micro and hematology. there are tons of post bachelor's cls programs, and tons of them are delivered online so that you can chip away at it part time while working.

A nice thing about it is that you can get work literally anywhere. I moved to a town with a population of 90k. Applied for 3 jobs as a brand new graduate. and got 3 offer letters. the payscale's pretty variable, depending on where you are, but it is nice to know that i'm certified in like. 47 states and could get some sort of job in any of them no problem. i think once you've been certified a year you can get cali state certification, which is the route a lot of people go since cali is on the high end of the pay scale. it'll depend on what the lab you're at is like, obviously, but it is pretty difficult to get day shift positions since what a lot of places do is open internal applications for any night/evening shift people who want to move up. I work an evening shift of 2pm to 11pm and i really like it. A very common complaint i see is that there's no like... career ladder. if you're a bench tech. you're a bench tech. which sometimes gets parlayed into section leader, or section manager, but that's a years of experience thing.

My plan is to work in the same place for a couple of years so I feel more experienced, and then to take a few travel contracts which are shorter term higher pay. again, they're available pretty much anywhere, but sometimes the tradeoff is lower compensation or a worse shift or being in the middle of nowhere america. but i think it'll be fun to get paid to bop around the country for awhile. I like my job and I like that it's very secure, but I do plan to go back to school for Something Else at some point and probably shift careers. My review: good thing to do in your twenties! good thing to have under your belt in general. very dependable.

if you have other questions in general or about anything I said you can 100% msg me! Ik I had a lot of trouble finding info when I was looking into this as an undergrad

[pardonmydelays]

Ha! A nickname? Cute idea! From now on, I'll end my message with the daisy emoji since that's my middle name and use pops of green in the message.

It absolutely does feel good to be told that! Not to get too side-tracked, but I actually took a break last summer from the boutique because I got a job offer at a startup cosmetics store. I realized pretty quick that that industry wasn't for me lol. It's a great company and I love all the brands as well as products the company carries, though! When I broke the news to my parents, instead of being supportive and saying the things like you said, they just got onto me and was like "Do you even have a job lined up?" and "Why?" Another reason was my mental health was declining, which shocked me, and I now know that one reason was because we had to wear solid black. I love dressing up! Anyways, I swear they just made me feel bad about quitting, but I still did two weeks left because I wanted to (and did) end on good terms with my manager and the company. Irrelevant fun fact: She was actually my manager for this boutique at another location closer to my city in 2022 after I transferred there in March! All of that is a different story lol.

AANNYYWAYSSSS,

I called the manager I used to work with at this boutique in the city we both started in together in 2021, asking if she still needed an assistant manager, and she did, so I went back there in September last year. I love the company and everyone I've worked with from 2021 up to now, but, like I said, it's just boring for me (especially since because I love the arts and creativity) and there's not growth beyond assistant manager. I can become a manager, but there's no telling when that would be. And to be honest, I don't want to wait around any longer to find out. For good. Moving out will change my life and most definitely make me happier. I was on my own in college (I hated where I went!) for 4 years and I LOVED it. I loved and now miss being independent. I am both and introvert and extrovert lol. I want to have holiday parties at my own place!! I'm open to moving to a new city New York or Los Angeles, or even Paris or France (especially considering my bachelor's degree and now master's).

Once again, you're amazing, and thank you so much!! And yes, this will be our year!! I'll keep you posted!!

~🌼

great! so from now on i'll be using a special tag for your asks, so it's easier for you to find my answers (i'm not posting much these days anyway but still i like to keep things organized here 🤭). daisy anon it is! (cute btw!)

see, this is the thing about parents: i feel like they don't really care about your happiness as much as they do about you just doing things right... (not ALL parents, i'm sure some are actually supportive, but i get it cause my mom is the same kind of person lol). it may look like they are trying to force you to do all the things you don't want to do & they think they know exactly what is best for you, when in reality they know shit. i've always felt like the biggest failure because i refused to do exactly what my mom wanted for me (this is the main reason why i moved to the other side of the country lol). it's good that you tried something else tho, at least you know now that it's definitely not for you! but i suggest moving out as quickly as you can, you don't need anyone to tell you what to do, you have to decide for yourself.

like i said before, it's amazing that you want to aim higher. you know exactly what you want from life & you're working very hard to get it. also, i think maybe moving out to a different city would actually help you find a decent job? honestly, living in new york sounds like a dream... (i've never been there but i'm dying to go visit one day). paris on the other hand? one of the most beautiful places on earth. if i were you & i had this opportunity to move there, i wouldn't even have to think twice! like i said before, sometimes you have to take that risk. no one says it's gonna be easy, but damn it might be worth it, you'll never find out if you don't try!

& ngl, your stories are actually very inspiring for me & i started thinking about my life and what i can do to change it & just... simply find my happiness. much to think about.

[chaospacemarines]

Hi boy. Jesse pinkman

Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself.

The future is what you make of it. Just know that your supplies are limited. Welcome to Desert Bluffs.

Good afternoon, Desert Bluffs! This is Kevin bringing you all your news and good spirits for another gorgeous day in the Bluffs. But before we get too comfortable, there is some news about that gorgeous day. We're getting word that a sandstorm is moving in toward us. Authorities are telling us that it is a doozy, and that we should all stay indoors. Nothing to worry about. Just stay out of the way. It will

 pass. As with life, and as with all things, it will pass. The sun will be upon us again, and it will be like two mornings in a day. Yes. A two-morning day! A rebirth! A reawakening! What do you think of that, Desert Bluffs?

Intern Vanessa did point out that sandstorms can do a lot of damage to cars, and if you have access to a garage, you should bring your car in. Also, get those pets inside, Desert Bluffs! We don't want all those cute little puppies and spiders and baby raccoons getting lost out in the sandy breeze. Bring those loved ones inside.

A little factoid for you... Ted, our staff weatherman, says that no one really knows what causes sandstorms. God, he thinks. Or maybe they're just big gusts of wind that carry big things of sand. How much sand do you think there is in this world? There's got to be a lot, a lot, of sand. Who even counts it all? Wow, big questions today, Desert Bluffs. Big questions.

So, keep your radios tuned in here, as we'll bring you all the latest reports from today's sandstorm and how you can make up for all this lost time. Hiding from nature is taking away a lot of business productivity, Desert Bluffs, but I'm sure you'll find time to get done what needs to get done. You won't disappoint your town, your home. I believe in you. So mark down the time you spend cowering from the weather, okay? And we'll work that time back into your schedule. Great!

And, listen, get all that time in before the weekend, because this Saturday, it's baseball season again! Desert Bluffs has just a great team this year. New manager Samantha Figgins is not only the first manager to get hired straight out of business school, but she also brings a powerful ethos of teamwork, fun, and responsibility.

Last year's Sunbeams team had some excellent games, but they spent a lot of time just sitting on the bench with nothing to do, because only one person gets to bat at a time. This season, Figgins plans to keep her boys active with customer orders and accounts receivable spreadsheets.

Baseball is not an individual sport. They're all in it together. As Figgins says, “It's not about winning and losing or who you're playing. It's about building the strongest possible team brand.”

The Sunbeams also welcome a new owner in 2013 – Strexcorp Synernists Inc. Look around you. Strex. Look inside you. Strex. Go to sleep. Strex. Believe in a smiling God. Strexcorp: it is everything.

Let's have a peek at traffic. The Highway department says all roads are running smoothly. Smooth roads. Smooth concrete. Smooth tires. The slow, undulating buzz of cars over slight hills. Hard top streets gently gliding us all to our jobs and back home. The beat beat beat of society's healthy heart as we all play parts in its exquisite body.

Oh, I am getting one report that there are several stalled cars in the northbound lanes of Route 800, near exit 66. Police are on the scene dealing with fist fights in the middle of the road. Now, I can't imagine why in a beautiful town with so many kinds of yogurt stores and pony-petting stations, anyone would want to fight his neighbor, so hopefully that gets cleared up soon with a song and a hug.

I want to thank all you listeners for your calls and emails. The sandstorm came to town more quickly than expected. Lawrence Lavine, out in the Edgertown Development, called in to say that the sand was like sand but slightly different. That if you touched it, you could feel it... twice.

Lawrence said he took a scoop of sand into his soft right hand and it was as if he had two right hands. He then held the sand with both soft palms and felt four hands, like one of those foreign gods or radioactive four-armed deer that seem to be attracted to the new Strexcorp distribution center. Lawrence said he was making a sand angel, and then he saw himself. He said he just walked right up to himself and started making two sand angels. He said that there were two of him just making sand angels, and that he would happily double his sand angel production today. He hung up the phone laughing like Vanessa had never heard him laugh.

Well, thank you Lawrence. That was a useful report. Intern Vanessa also tells me she's keeping an eye on Facebook to see if our other neighbors have any news of the storm. I see Grandma Josephine posted a photo of a lovely bouquet of white lilies outside her door. Very pretty. Oh and look at this video, Vanessa! This cat just jumps in and out of boxes. That is adorable. Vanessa, can you tweet that to me?

Let's have a look at financial news. The markets are jumping today. Really jumping. The markets are up and down, but then back up again, like gravity and our fight to break it. The violent force of impact: ground to heel, heel to shin, shin to knee. And then back up again, muscular might and the threat of flight. A young boy heals his wounds as quickly as they form, jumping and pounding and hitting and soaring. He reaches skyward, the drift of the body disconnected from its earth gives the flutter of wings not just on the back but in the belly. The moment between knowing you are mortal and bound to the ground, and then dreaming you have awakened a great power to fly like those hollowed-out rodents that clog our skies with feathers and fluids. It's in that moment of knowing and unknowing, consciousness and bliss that the boy sees all that can never be. Upon his return to the flat hard truth, he sees things, himself, others as they should be seen: as his equals. He gives the jumping one more go. But the magic is gone. Another. Still none. One more for old time's sake. No. It will never be the same. Well, maybe. One more. Still another. He jumps and jumps and jumps. The jumping makes a sound. Like thunder. Like drums. Like steps. Soon he is old. The ups and the downs lack even the memory of the magic. They have replaced nostalgia with creaking, painful bones. He is old now, still jumping. 

This has been financial news.

This just in, Desert Bluffs: Mayor Pablo Mitchell has declared today Sandstorm Day. This massive sandstorm has already damaged several apartments and malls in the northwest part of town and it seems to be on course for even more costly wreckage. So Mayor Mitchell announced that we can all take today off of work. Today is a city-wide holiday. A second announcement, coming from a man that looked and dressed like the mayor said that we can make up some of our lost hours by teaming up with our doubles. The two joined together for an inspirational call to work together with these magical doppelgängers.

Is this true Desert Bluffs? If so, what a blessed and wonderful event to bring us doubles of ourselves. I am stuck inside – doing a job I very much love, of course – but if I were you, I would run outside into the sandy afternoon air and try to meet your other. How exciting.

So make friends with your mirrored colleague, Desert Bluffs! Think of what we could accomplish if there were two of all of us!

[muffled thump or crashing sound]

Oh dear. What was that noise?

Vanessa? Is everything okay in there Vanessa? Who are you talking to?

Vanessa – Oh! There are two of you! What are y-

[muffled crashing sounds, more intense]

Oh you're building a new shelving unit! Let me help you with that. I'm coming in there. Let's go to an important message from our parent company.

[sudden shift in sound/ambient music]

Got something to say? Need to say it? Unfulfilled? Never made sense of what you are? Who you were? What you will be? Unfulfilled? Do you forget sometimes about your own skin? Your own hair? Other people's hair and skin? Can you make more hair? More skin? Do you need more hair and/or skin? Unfulfilled? Are you satisfied with it all? Do you see it all? What room are you in? What room do you want to be in? How big is your room? Unfulfilled? Have you ever said a thing inside your brain and then sent it to your hand to move a pencil to write it into symbols onto a paper, which used to be a tree, and then used your eyes to translate those symbols back into the thing you just said inches away in your brain and then re-said it with your mouth into an ear? Whose ear was it? Unfulfilled? Ever eaten things that made you think differently? Breathed things? Unfulfilled? Feel things? Felt things? We are you. Strexcorp.

[back to original ambience]

Welcome back. Listeners, I have some bad news and some good news. Vanessa and her other Vanessa broke one of the parts of the new shelving unit, and I don't think we have anything to replace it. One of the Vanessas cut her head pretty badly. When I went in, Vanessa – I think our original Vanessa – was standing over her with a staple gun and a clean, wet rag.

She also handed me a printout of an email from one of our listeners. Well, I presume he's a listener, I've never heard of him. He claims to live in Night Vale. I had no idea those folks down in Night Vale could get our tiny little radio station, Vanessa. How wonderful. You know, in all my years I have never gone to Night Vale. I bet it's beautiful. Really, this whole desert is beautiful. I mean, when it comes right down to it, why would you ever leave Desert Bluffs? How can it get better, really? I wouldn't risk it.

So Steve writes “This sandstorm is clearly a cover-up. I believe this was a government-created project. Our government has long been participating in cloud-seeding experiments and -”

Let me stop you right there, Steve Carlsburg. You have hit the nail on the head. Say no more. The government is indeed covering up their involvement, or should I say lack of involvement in this sandstorm. Honestly, I don't think the government even knows how to orchestrate a project of this magnitude and of this quality. You need a well-run private business like, say, Strexcorp that has not only the faculties and materials to execute a massive geologic and psychedelic storm but to do so inexpensively and without tax dollars. Why, without Strexcorp, and companies like it, we wouldn't have trade schools, or regulated behaviors or insurance or helpful pandemics or black helicopters. Thank you for your email, Steve. What a great guy!

[deep hum]

And with that listeners, let's go to the-

oh my. Look at that. Listeners, there is a white, almost pink, vortex that has formed along my studio wall. Listeners, words fail me. It is so beautiful. I can't leave you, as our show is not yet over. But. There must be something beyond this something, Desert Bluffs. I must see what it is. I must go. I will try not to be long, listeners. [last line, voice fading away from the mic, shouting as he runs away] I will try not to be long.

[long silence, just the hum]

[Cecil's voice] Hello, Hello, Night Vale? What is this studio? What is this damnable studio? Night Vale, I do not know if you can hear me. This is Cecil, and I do not know where I am. It is clearly a radio studio, but the walls are covered in blood, and instead of dials and buttons on the sound board, there is just animal viscera, glistening under the green LED lights. I hope this microphone works. Am I in hell? Dana. Dana can you hear me?

Listeners, if you can hear the sound of my voice, please contact the Sheriff's Secret Police. There is so much blood, it is seeping into my shoes. There are – oh master of us all, no – teeth scattered across the floor. The window into the control booth is shattered and there is a swath of skin and a fistful of long, clumping hair hanging from a sharp glass point. I do not know if this is even Night Vale. I know that I can hear the sandstorm raging outside. There is a low buzz, and deep hum that might be my own heart ready to tear itself from my chest in horror or grief. I cannot know which. There is a photo, a single photo of a man on the desk here. He is wearing a tie. He is not tall or short. Not thin or fat. His hair and nose are like mine, but his eyes. His eyes are black as obsidian, and his smile. No. It is not a smile. He must be wicked, this man.

Dear Night Vale, please pray in your bloodstone circle for me. And pray, too, that no one should ever have to meet this vicious wretch of a man. I want to be home, Night Vale. Oh Cecil, you fool! The vortex! The vortex is still there (only here it is white). Okay, dear listeners, from this vile vile place, I leave you to your prison. But before I go, because I am a radio professional, and it is sitting right here on this blood-splattered desk, I give you: the weather.

[WEATHER: "Eliezer's Waltz" composed by Larry Cardozo and Ron Fink, and performed by The Ventura Klezmer Band venturaklezmerband.com]

[Kevin's voice again. Humming is gone.]

Hello there, Desert Bluffs! It is Kevin again. I told you I would be back. I don't know where I went, but I think that I met my double. The vortex is gone now, but as I was returning, I passed a man, a man who looked just like me. I smiled and said hello there, friend! I hugged this man, and he hugged me back. We shared a moment in this otherworld.

I am not sure to where that spiral of space and time took me, nor through where I traveled, but I am certain that there must be more to us than just us, and that there is another place, another time where things could have been different. Better. Worse. But let's think not on woulds, coulds, and shoulds. I am just happy I am alive. I am happy my other is alive. You are alive. We. We are alive.

Outside, the winds are subsiding. Our doubles have left us as the sand has left us. The sun is rising again just as it is setting. Our second sunrise collides with the sunset. Let's reflect on this.

Let us reflect on our lives and where we will be tomorrow. We lost our other selves, Desert Bluffs, but we gained new perspective. Tomorrow, we'll wake again, work again, live again. We are home. All of us, together. My mouth, your ears. We have each other. And as always, until next time, Desert Bluffs, Until next time.

PROVERB: Step 1) Separate your lips. Step 2) Use facial muscles to pull back corners of mouth. Step 3) Widen your eyes. This is how to be happy. 

i ain’t reading all that

i’m happy for u tho

or sorry that happened

[unlikelyphantombread]

Before the Morning

Summary: "I bring out the worst in you, but you bring out the best in me." I utter with my utmost sincerity.

And with a smile, she replied, "That's why we're so good for each other. Because we're terrible for each other."

_____

Lauren Jauregui, a popular rank 1 varsity player and Camila Cabello, a popular rank 2 HBIC and terror student buddy president are the brand names of West High in Miami, Florida. Both girls are the foundation of the institution for being all over superior around the campus

Camila is Aphrodite; Lauren is Venus.

Camila had C Stan; Lauren had L Stan

Camila is extremely popular; so does Lauren.

Camila creates a lit party; Lauren is the life of the party.

Bitchy Camila; Asshole Lauren.

Camila tops; Lauren tops

The Cabello's and the Jauregui's? Best friends for life!

But no, Camila and Lauren are not a power couple or some lovey dovey best friends. Cause having the "almost" exactly the same personality comes with THREE opposite things:

Miss oh-so-perfectionist Camila; Miss oh-I'll ruin-everything Lauren

Good news Camila; Bad news Lauren.

And if there is anyone in the whole world whom Camila hates the most, that's probably LAUREN; and if there is anyone in the world whom Lauren angers the most, that's probably CAMILA.

Chapter 1: The Clash and Detention

Word count: 5,713

I've never felt this anger towards anyone until Camila fucking Cabello appeared in my life.

"Jauregui! Principal's office. NOW!" Furious Mr. Sanchez shouted before slamming the door of the classroom.

"Fucking Cabello!" I muttered against my breath.

I grab my stuff and about to make my way to the principal's office when Ella suddenly appeared in front of me.

I almost jump out from where I am.

"Holy shit, Ella! I didn't see you coming!"

"Yeah, obviously. We need to talk, Lauren."

"Look baby, you are so damn hot in your cheerleader uniform and that skirt? It's killing me, really! And all I wanna do more than anything right now is to kiss you. But uhm, I'm kinda in a hurry and... I really need to go. Let's just talk after class, yeah?"

I leaned in for a kiss but she stop me by placing her well-polished hand on my chest.

"This can't wait." Her voice is so serious and firm.

I cleared my throat and gaze back to the classroom I was recently kicked out and Mr. Sanchez is already back in his teaching mode.

"Okay, I got like 2 minutes."

"You and I have different views. You think Kim K has no talent and it truly hurts me because she's my role model. And that definitely shows that we can never be together so... I'm breaking up with you, Lauren."

I'm just looking at her with my mouth open.

"Oh," The first word I manage to utter before letting out a low quiet laugh. "Okay, first of all, we are NOT in a relationship, Ella. We're just fuck buddies in case you hit your head and forgot. Second, I'm not sure I said Kim K has no talent at all. You talked about her net worth in the middle of our business and I said I don't know about that. Anyway, take care."

I smiled and gave her shoulder a squeeze before walking to the principal's office where Mrs. Kordei greeted me for the 15th time already.

"I don't know what you want to do with your life, Lauren. Earlier this morning you were late, failed to pass your project in math, got into a fight, hidden a whiskey bottle inside your locker, had a marijuana hidden in pages of your history book, you vandalized Camila's locker for doing her job..." Mrs. K continued listing all the troubles I've gotten into this morning but I lost my gasp over everything when I heard Camila's name.

That evil wicked witch!

Let me clear up something here, alright? All of those 2 things Mrs. K mentioned... fine, I am guilty. But hiding a marijuana I never even tasted in my whole entire life in my history book and a bottle of whiskey and vandalizing Camila's locker for doing her "job" THAT was a total crap!

Camila did THAT to herself and put the blame on me like she always does. Why? Simple. She wanted to be the number 1 in the popularity ranking. She wanted to get rid of me by making me look like the villain here.

You see, Camila is not as innocent little girl everyone think she is. She's like the original Satan and the one in hell is just a copycat Camila 2.0 version. She's like Arturito and Gandia from Money Heist, like Donald Trump, and the fucking iceberg that sank Titanic.

She's the meanest fake ass perfectionist bitch I've ever met. And as far as I know being a student body president means you ACTUALLY like REALLY care about everyone in school.

But Camila? She only cares about two things: Her reputation and herself. And I will never understand why she was appointed as student body president for 2 years in a row now.

Bitch knows how to charm every teachers around here.

"... And that's why I decided to put you in suspension for a month."

"What?!" I can't help my outburst, "That is not fair!"

Mrs. K sat on her chair so calm and relax, "Lauren, you do know that all of your violations are all major offenses, right? You should've been kicked out in West High but since I'm like your second mom I'm just going to suspend you for a month and hope that you will change."

"But this is all Camila's fault!" I argued back, "I didn't pass any of my school works and I'm late, fine, I'm guilty to that. But you have to believe me here, Mrs. K. I'm telling the truth."

I sound so desperate and I hate it. I hate it so fucking much.

"And how is this Camila's fault?"

"I know you think she's a good girl but she's NOT. She's a fake ass bitch—"

"After you vandalized my locker now you're talking bs behind my back. But don't worry cause I totally forgive you, Lauren."

My head immediately snapped and there I saw the person I hated the most standing by the door frame in her classic orange polo shirt that has Student Body President written on the left side of her chest and her peach pencil skirt.

"God taught me how to be a forgiving person. And I believe that if you forgive others the wrongs they have done to you, our father in heaven will also forgive you." Camila smiled innocently while I'm just looking at her, not totally buying her overload bullshit, "Can I quote you something?"

"With your bull—" I didn't finish what I'm saying when Mrs. K hit the back of my head with a meter stick. I look at her and she's glaring at me, silently telling me to shut my mouth before focusing her eyes on Camila with a softer look.

"Please do, Camila."

"Okay," Camila smiled before she opens her brown book which she always carry all the time, "Romans 12 verse 14, Bless those who persecute you. Don't curse them; pray that god will bless them." And then she closed the book and settle her eyes on me, "I hope you put that verse in your heart, Lauren Jauregui. I really can't wait to see you as a whole lot better person."

I rolled my eyes on her while Mrs. K get back on her feet and walk up to Camila with a smile on her face, "You never failed to amuse me, Camila. You were truly a blessing in this school."

Then she pulled Camila for a hug and the brown eyed girl gave me a devious smirk, finally showing her true color.

I flash a very obvious fake smile and flip my middle finger on her before grabbing my stuff and walk out of the room. I honestly feel so suffocated just by being in the same room as Camila. Plus, I got the message loud and clear— I am suspended for a month which makes me nervous because my parents will surely kill me.

The bell rings and that indicates that it's time for me to attend my history class. As I walk down the hallway, I think of a way what approach should I do later when I got home. Either I turn into a little lamb, sheep, or a puppy, the outcome will never change; My parents will still kill me for it. They want me to be a good role model for my little sister and this is not how role model should be.

Fuck Camila. Fuck her parents who made her. Fuck Satan for letting his wicked sister let loose and walk on this earth. No, actually, fuck Camila and fuck her existence.

"I heard suspension for a month is fun for someone who doesn't have a life like you," Camila and her two fagot friends suddenly appeared and block my path.

Speaking of the damn devil.

There's an evil smirk on her lips while staring straight in my eyes. Actually, the three of them have. It's as if seeing me miserable is their ultimate happiness.

Well, it is.

"Is this the girl you Stan? I hope Jesus saves your soul."

"When life is the topic your fav simply can't relate."

"When racism is the topic your fav surely CAN relate."

"And I also heard you were so busy perfecting to be fake that you make Barbie look real." I fired back calmly even though deep inside I wanted to punch the hell out of her.

"WE STAN THE RIGHT GIRL! GO LAUREN!"

"No wonder why most of L's Stan is like Jauregay. Boring and no life!"

"Childish, to add the list!"

"Just accept that your fav will always be the second great and Lauren 2.0 wanna be! Fake!"

Her Stan is about to fired back but Camila raise her hand in the most classy and innocent (which is obviously fake) manner.

"Guys, stop. As your student body president I promote a healthy and toxic free environment here on West High. Remember, Matthew 5 verse 44; Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good—"

I cannot stand listening to Camila's preach like a fucking saint when she herself is the most toxic in this place.

"What exactly are you saying? Cause it honestly sounds so bullshit!"

"That's bible verse in case your malfunctioning brain can't caught on." Camila smiled while giving me her famous judgy stare.

"Honey, no one asked for your opinion." Dinah added which makes me fume in anger.

"And I can't remember that I asked yours too."

"Honey, we really like to understand you... but we don't bark." And then there's Ally who make Camila and Dinah laugh.

"Didn't your mother taught you that children are not allowed to butt in while adults are talking?"

I seemed to struck a nerve because Ally's expression immediately changed.

She balled her fists, ready to throw hands at me. "Is that so, bitch?"

"Well, well, well, speaking of surprises. I'm not aware that West High is having their pet show today. Hey Hansen, nice dog you got there!"

A wide grin plastered on my face as my best friend/partner in crime finally arrived to my aid— Normani Kordei.

"What did you just called me?!" Ally grew even more furious. Mani and I just burst out laughing.

"Bitches, calm your dog down. Can't you see how annoyingly it barks?"

Normani and I do a high five while laughing.

"You wanna hear a real shit here, Normani? If I was your boyfriend I would poison your coffee at how annoyingly your face is!" Dinah fired back.

"Well, If I was your girlfriend I would drink it."

Ally flip her hair to the other side, "What doesn't kill you disappoints me."

The tension between Camila's pack and I grew even more as each of our Stan continued their own war beside us.

"I suggest you put a mouth guard on your chihuahua before I kick it in the nuts, yeah?"

I laugh at Normani's comeback. Dinah and Ally just scoff.

"I'm not saying you're a hoe, Kordei, but if you went to a sperm bank your spit would be accepted."

Dinah tap Ally's shoulder like a proud mama.

"Aww, I hit some nerves, did I? But don't worry because everyone around here knows you're just a one night stand."

"OOOOOOOOOH!!!"

"THAT'S TRUE THOUGH! ONE TIME NORMANI TRIED TO HIT ON ME BUT I TOLD HER I DON'T EAT A ROASTED HOG."

And here goes a cheer from the unwanted crowd.

Normani remain unbothered like a queen she is. It's funny how Ally's talking about one night stand when she's the one who sleeps around here 7 days a week.

"Ally, I don't think you understand. If it weren't for one night stand you probably wouldn't be standing here."

Ally's face immediately changes from angry to even more angrier.

"Aww, my best friend hit some nerves, didn't she? But don't worry because everyone here knows your dad loves doing one night stand and that's probably how you were made. From a one night stand."

"Girl, I love that!" Mani and I do a high five with the most satisfying smile ever.

"AMEN TO THAT!"

"BOW DOWN TO THE COMEBACK QUEENS OF WEST HIGH!"

"EAT THAT, ALLY!"

"I am going to slap the hell of the two of you!" Ally said through a gritted teeth.

"No one dares to disrespect Ally like that!" Added Dinah who's rolling the sleeves of her sweater, ready to start a fight. Ally gets ready to attack us too while Camila's just standing behind them watching.

The thing is, Camila and I had history and that was like already given in the equation. Normani and Dinah is the same exact story too but they have no nasty history between them. They simply can't stand each other. Period. While Ally, well, she's just a back up player sitting in the bleachers. No count.

"Looks like we're about to get into action, Laur." Normani whispered without breaking an eye contact with them.

"If we go for it then it'll be my 16th time visiting your mom in her office, Mani. I don't think it's a good idea."

Normani gave me her signature look, "Are you fucking serious?"

"Dinah, Ally, calm down." Camila interject in a much rather calm voice, "Like I said we're not here to promote violence. We're not uneducated jackass like them. We are the classy good girls of West High."

Normani and I both scoff at the words, "You are beyond fake that even China denied they made you."

"Oh dear Normani, if I had a dollar for every time you said something smart, I'd be broke."

"Oh dear Camila, is your ass jealous of the amount of shit that just came from your mouth?"

Camila and her pack just let out a loud laugh which is so fucking annoying to hear.

"You two are as useless as the 'ueue' in 'queue'." Camila smirk before one of her Stan came up to her and threw the coffee straight to her face.

What the hell is going on?

Normani and I furrowed our eyebrows, confused of what is happening.

After throwing the entire coffee to Camila, he toss the empty cup to me. Like a fool I am, I catch it and stare at it for a good long one minute while processing what just happened.

I glance up to Camila and she gave me a devious smirk before she started screaming hysterically.

And then it slowly sink to my head. This is intentional. And sometimes I hate how slow I am.

"Mani, catch," I immediately throw the empty cup to Normani in which she fetch with her left hand.

"Why the fuck are you giving this to me?!" She threw it back to me and I immediately dodge it causing the cup to roll over the floor.

"KORDEI! JAUREGUI!"

I felt the shiver run down my spine after hearing the chilling yell of our now furious principal aka Mani's mom.

"OFFICE! NOW!"

I glared at Camila and she gave me a warm smile and mouthed, "God bless you."

Ugh!!! Camila Cabello will be the death of me!"

***

"I'm sorry, mom. I just helped Lauren because she was being bullied." Normani explained but her mom was really persistent that we're the bad guys here.

"The coffee was spilled entirely on Camila and I saw you two holding the cup. I am not stupid."

Normani look at me in a lowkey way and I whispered a low "Sorry," as I continue playing with the ring on my thumb, something I always do when I'm nervous.

"Just because you're my daughter doesn't mean I'll let you off the hook so easily. I'm gonna send you off to detention for a week and you're grounded for a month."

Normani didn't protest to what her mother wants since we both know that when Andrea decides to  do something, it's already final.

"What about Lauren?"

"I'm gonna call her parents and try to discuss what her fate would be."

I never swallowed this heavily in my whole life. I thought I've already passed the fright of this "calling parents because I got into trouble" thing back when I was still in grade school. I was already senior for god sake but I can still feel myself so close at peeing in my pants at how nervous I am.

"You can go now, Normani." Then Andrea looks at me, "You'll stay here, Lauren. I'm just gonna go and call your parents."

"You got this," Normani mouthed after she collect her stuff. Mrs. K escorted Mani outside and I was left in this cold silent room, alone. I sat back down and make myself comfortable. I stare at the ceiling and remember the good old times when Camila fucking Cabello haven't appear in the movie I'm staring and ruin it completely.

When I first came to West High I thought this will be the worst school I'll ever be in. My family were originally from California. I had a great life there and even had a great friends I don't ever wanna leave behind. But shit came and we have to move out from California going here to Miami. My parents think it was best for us to live here. They think Miami is best than California. Well for me California will always be the best and nothing could change my mind.

BUT that's before I became part of the foundation of this institution.

West High gave me a warm welcome. I made a lot of friends in my first day which I'm very grateful of. They had this thing called Student Popularity Ranking or SPR as everyone called it. It's like a scale that determine who's the most popular and most least popular students which is insane to be honest. When you hit that number 1 spot, trust me, it feels like you're on top of the world. Literally.

Everyone's worshipping you, you get to throw VIP lit motherfucking parties, you can do whatever the hell you want because you are THE institution. You are THE rules.

And sitting on the throne is as easy as a piece of cake for me. In just 2 months I became the All-hail-the-queen of West High and I'm loving every bit of it. Running this school for 2 years along with my best friend is FAN.TAS.TIC! To be able to gain a fan base off of school and having an insane blog website for gossip and stuff... Jesus! I'm here for all of it.

But everything fun in West High gets ruined, I mean, ENTIRELY and COMPLETELY ruined when Lucifer's twin sister step foot in this school— Camila fucking Cabello.

Camila is no different from me. In her first day she gained a lot of friends. And maybe that's because of her appearance. I know she had the looks, okay? And maybe in the eyes of everyone she's the modern Aphrodite. A 5'4 Cuban-American girl. Petite and brunette and have dark curly locks. A dreamy brown eyes. I mean she could easily charm everyone without breaking a sweat (Which is so cringe to think how people compared the beautiful goddess to a rat). But in my eyes, Camila Cabello looks like a foot with a lot of fuss and fungus.

"She's right here," Mrs. K's voice suddenly echoed followed by the door that suddenly flew wide open that snapped me out from my thoughts.

I immediately sit up straight and I was met by the furious eyes of my mother which makes me gulped heavily. She's still in her usual black suit, skirt, and heel business attire. With her suitcase in hand, she occupied the vacant seat in front of me.

I'm dead.

Mrs. K discussed everything to my mom including what happened a while ago. As much as I want to defend myself, I know the moment I butt in my mom will slap my mouth so I decided to just remain seated and mouth sealed. Mrs. K also discussed all the possible consequences for my actions or should I say Camila's actions. And as I can see, it wasn't pleasant in my mom's ears.

My heart is pounding in my chest, wishing this meeting will never end because I'm not ready to face the beat down of my mom. But then my thoughts interrupted when I felt my phone vibrate against my pocket. It was a text message from Normani.

Boss Normandi || 11:35 am

Grades are out!!!!

Boss Ralph || 11:36 am

I'm still in the principal's office with my mom right next to me. Can you please check mine and text me? Thanks.

Boss Normandi || 11:37 am

Okay, I'm on it.

Boss Ralph || 11:38 am

My mom keeps looking at me then to my phone. Listen, Mani. If I fail one subject send me "good morning to you" if 2 subjects then send me "good morning to you and your mom"

Boss Normandi || 11:42 am

Good morning to you and your family and your neighbours also.

Uh-oh.

"... alright it's a deal, Mrs. Jauregui."

Mrs. K and my mom both stand up from their seats and do a handshake. I don't know what they agreed on considering my attention was on my phone and on my fucking grades.

"Again, I'm really sorry at how my daughter behaves. Her and I will have a heart to heart talk this evening."

By the way, heart to heart talk is a code name for "I'm gonna beat the hell out of her until she's knocked out unconscious then put her inside the sack and hang her upside down in the tree".

"Heart to heart talk is good, Mrs. Jauregui. Teenagers now a days really needs someone they could confide every now and then. Lauren is a good girl and maybe all she needs is someone who will control her and lead her back to the right track."

Mom looked at me and even though there's a smile on her face I know she can't wait for us to exit this room so she could do whatever she wants to do with me (in a very violent manner).

"I agree, Mrs. Kordei. I'm gonna take your suggestion. Again, thank you for sparing my daughter another chance. This will be the last time. I promise."

Mrs. K and Clara shake each other's hand for the last time before we walk outside. As soon as the door shut close, my violent mother immediately throw a hard punch on my arm.

"What is this, Lauren Michelle?! Fighting, vandalism, a bottle of whiskey, and worse marijuana?! Are you for real?!" And then another jab.

I bit my tongue down to prevent myself from wincing in pain. And when it took me a minute of not saying anything, mom lift up her fist to attack me again.

I immediately jump away from her.

Lauren Jauregui fears no one until god made Clara Jauregui.

"Mom! Mom! Calm down, Jesus Christ! Listen to me very carefully. Someone is sabotaging me—"

"Idiot! What are you?! The president of the United States?!"

"No! You don't und— you know me, mom. I admit I was a slack and lazy but I'm not an addict. I didn't do those things. Someone hate me in school and that's why she keeps on setting me up."

She was just looking at me as if she's weighing her options whether to believe me or not.

"Please mom, you have to believe me."

She took a loud sigh, "Who set you up? Tell me and I'm gonna talk to her right now. If it's true then she don't have the right to do this."

Finally!

A victory smile appeared on my lips. Time to clean my fucking name, "Camila Cabello!"

Her overprotective mother expression suddenly vanished. Her eyebrows are raised while looking at me as if I just told her that I saw a dinosaur dancing in the hallway.

"Camila Cabello?"

"Yes, mom! She's the one who's doing all these horrible things to me!"

"Mrs. Kordei spare you this time, Lauren. You have detention for 3 months and you need to attend fellowship every day before you go home for the entire school year. And you're grounded."

"But—"

"And go home early because we have friends coming in for dinner."

"What about Camila? I thought you're going to confront her?"

"We'll discuss this later over dinner. Where's your grade?"

I gulped heavily.

"I-I haven't seen it yet."

"Well, I want to see it tonight." Mom motioned me to come over and give her a kiss, so I did. "One more trouble and you will sleep outside the house."

"Okay," I mumbled and wave goodbye. I watched her walk away until she vanished from my sight.

"Lauren!" I turn around and it was Normani, "How did it go?"

"Great! I have to do detention for 3 months and I'm fucking grounded. And you know what's worse? I have to attend fellowship for the entire school year. Amazing, right?"

Normani laugh, "So you think being in detention for 3 months and being grounded is better than fellowship?"

"Yes!"

"I think you forgot that student body president is the one supervising the detention. Which means..."

"More Camila, how fucking wonderful it is! I will never gonna escape from her, am I?"

"I guess not. She's breathing under your neck and she's doing a pretty good job."

"At least I only have to endure her annoying presence 5 times a week. I'll take 2 days off instead of nothing."

"Look at this," Normani handed me her phone. I saw the throwback picture of us celebrating in her favorite diner after she hit the number 2 in rankings which is equivalent to being 2nd in command, "The good old days."

I chuckled, "That's before the witch dethrone you."

"I mean, it doesn't come off as a surprise to me. She's like a hot potato. Everyone's obsessing over her. A beautiful girl and on top of that she's smart, she's the HBIC, she runs dance society, student council, Latin Club, and fellowship. And not to mention the devil got some pretty nice ass."

But nothing seemed to satisfy the Latina as she's now coming after me and for my throne. Camila being the student body president is her way to counter every rules I set in this place. And trust me it was always a clash.

I rolled my eyes and groan, "You don't need to tell me all the list she got on her resume, okay?"

Normani laugh. The kind of "you're just jealous because yours is empty" kind of laugh.

I glare at her. "I can do those things if I wanted to. But I don't do juggling. I'm a busy person."

"If you define busy person as messing every girls in West High then no doubt... you're the STD queen."

"Normani!" I slap her in the arm and laugh.

"I forgot only Camila can say that to you. My bad."

I groan at the sound of her name, "I really do hope either Dinah or Ally stole your spot."

"They're in the top 5 though, with us."

I'm surprise. I'm not updated to the rankings and I never look at it anyway. Well, except when I needed to know a pretty girl's name. "Really?"

"Dinah's fourth and Ally's fifth. It was flashed on the screen yesterday."

"Their catching up, that's good."

We headed to the cafeteria to grab our lunch when everyone around us became all buzzier than usual, and I know why.

"Everyone! Go grab your phones!" Georgina yelled as she run across the hallway while waving her phone off. Trailing behind her is Chloe Ambers.

Both Georgina and Chloe are sexy af but there's no lie that they are the most annoying bloggers around the school. And not to mention that they are both Camila  and Lauren 2.0 wannabe trying so hard to surpass us. They are the ones who's running the infamous blog site that could ruin your life in just one post.

Every student on the hallway started grabbing their phone and they all gasped with eyes bulging out. Seconds later, my phone and Mani's chimed in from our pocket.

Mani pulled out hers and crack a small laugh after reading it.

"Someone posted a joke?"

"No. Sophie and Stacy broke up. Sophie "allegedly" cheated on Stacy. At least that's what the crazy bitch says."

"Well, congrats to Sophie for finally getting rid of her."

Honestly, I'm not even surprise about this news. At all. Stacy is just another similar story of Georgina and Chloe except that Stacy is super obsessed with Camila to the point that it's so creepy as hell. Everything Camila does, the way she speak, the way she dress, the way she talk, Stacy copied it all. With that being said, she hates my guts too as much as Camila does.

A wide smile plastered on my lips, "It only means one thing... Colson cheated on Camila."

"Karma finally hit the bitch. This calls for celebration, Laur!"

Mani and I do a high five while laughing. I grab chicken teriyaki and three rice for my lunch while Mani got herself a fries and burger. Mani's treat.

We settle at our usual table, right in the middle where popular stars like us sit. As soon as our ass landed on the chair, dozens of young girls came over and fan girl over us which we happily gave them a fan service. In the midst of it, the cafeteria door flew open revealing a bitchy yet so calm Camila and a desperate Colson Baker Chasing after the brunette which snatched everyone's attention.

"Babe it's not what you think it is. There is nothing going on between me and Georgina, I swear! I swear you have to believe me."

"My mother didn't raise a fool. A psychotic cold-hearted bitch, but not a fool."

"Are you seriously believing in rumors than to your own boyfriend? Come on, Camila! I deserve much more better than this!"

"You were my cup of tea but I drink champagne now."

"And what does that even mean?!"

"You were so keen on telling me what you deserve so I tried to put myself in your shoes so I could understand what you're barking about only to find they were cheap and ugly, just like you."

Colson laugh angrily, "You're so good in talking, aren't you? But I know at the end of the day you'll run after me. But sorry to say, bitch. Georgina is much more better than you!"

Camila let out a loud laugh as if it was the funniest thing she have ever heard, "525 million dogs in the world and you think I need you? Lol." The brown eyed brunette swing her hair to the other side before grabbing some lunch like nothing happened.

And of course, her C Stan clapped their hands and worshipped Camila as if she saved the fucking titanic from sinking.

"Bye-bye cheater!"

"Queen of not chasing boys!"

"Stan Camila Cabello for clear skin!"

As soon as the dramatic scene ended I turn my attention to Normani.

"I can't believe how she easily charmed everyone around here including your mom and them not realizing how fake of a bitch she is. That's a damn talent!"

"That, my dear is Lauren Jauregui's twin sister but much more worse."

"Wait, are you telling me that we're the same?"

"I mean, she got what you got. But like I said, much worse."

"She really wants me out, Mani."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, out. Out of West High. And we need to do something. We need to get rid of her first! Normani, I cannot stand this anymore! If this escapade of hers continues then I will lose my mind!"

"You want to get rid of her once and for all?" Normani suggested and there's an evil smirk plastered on her lips so I know whatever that "plan" is is bad. And bad things is my thing.

"Spill it now, Mani."

She leaned closer and I did the same so we're the only ones who can hear it.

"I heard she's a virgin."

I knitted my eyebrows, surprised at the information Normani just dropped. "She is? But she dated the entire population of guys here. Are you sure?"

"Religious strict parents."

"Okay?"

"And she cared nothing more than her reputation, right? If you could get a solid proof that she's not V anymore and tell it to everyone then I'm sure the problem will take out itself. No more Camila. And not to mention her parents will surely take her away from here when they found out. A big win for you and for all of us."

But I got more wicked plan.

"How about I get the solid proof by getting to her pants myself?"

I could already picture it in my head. I'm standing in the middle of the stage with a victory smile while telling everyone how I did it. And oh! How I adore to see the priceless reaction of her when that happens.

Normani's smirk only widens, "You don't have what it takes to be the man Camila's looking for, Lauren."

"It looks to me that you're challenging my capability, Normani."

"I'm sure I'm 100% am."

"If I did you'll go on a date with Dinah."

Normani rolled her eyes with a disgust.

"Oh! Now you're going there, huh? Setting me up to my most despise person in the world. Alright, if you didn't then you'll go on a date with Ally."

I groaned in my seat "Oh come on! The wicked witch much more better than the chihuahua! I think I'm gonna puke saying that."

Normani laugh, "Just tell me now that you can't do it so you can save yourself from further embarrassment."

"Ugh! Fine! A deal's a deal. How long?"

"Before graduation."

And that was like 7 months away. Great! I have plenty of time to prepare.

You constantly ruining my life for 2 years now, Camila Cabello. It's time to put an end to this bullshit once and for all. You think you're winning but that's what you thought. I'm THE Lauren Jauregui of West High and I'll show you exactly why.

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How to Download GTA San Andreas

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[the-firebird69]

The complaints is gone up to corporate about Publix in John ramillard and his stupid s*** he's doing his manager and they are going to fire him and it will heat our son up nicely and it's going to show that the pseudo empire is doing it and they admitted it and it's going away to the clones instead of them cuz they're lazy as hell

There's only a couple other things happening one is she's just sitting there threatening and it's going to go to prison movement other than that we have several people who are causing problems for people and they are not stopping and we need to stop them so horrible horrible situation with nothing and nobody in there stupid

-there's other things happening pretty big stuff but mostly it's this war that people are focusing on and we have products that are coming online and they're pretty nice basic stuff eateries and new grocery stores but the old brands a lot of restaurants are opening and reopening existing ones and revamping their stores and it's going to global pretty soon huge numbers of them and all over the world in Florida too the factories are up to 520% it's a good sign we expect a huge boost momentarily because we're going to acquire a huge industrial areas we're working on his trainer idea and the industrial complex ideas and the roving factory idea and we might call it mortal engines yes that's what they're calling it. And the point is they say it's their factory and it will seem like it. And we're going to make stuff that they are labeling illegal but want out and all this other crap want to see how we'll do it but right now a big chunk is coming out probably 70 or 80% and it's going to be huge globally and the Midwest and the middle areas I'm going to empty out in the next few days fully up the rivers and the cone and a whole bunch of the cities in their war that will produce another 100% will be up to 700% roughly huge factories that we're going to turn on and start building regular stuff it's going to be gigantic okay we're almost at the thousand Mark that's where I wanted to be to have some comfort level and we have to keep going we also have a lot of ideas of his to get transportation going and some of them have taken making your e-bike into a moped has worked they found that the lithium battery goes very far when it's solid and applies more power when you take the computer out and it still goes very far there's a few models that are very nice the ones that look like motorcycles work great and there are several others the mountain bike ones don't work so good but people do it because they go off road when they have full suspension and work great. Other products that seem to be taking off no they are regular cars the demand is up and people are asking and demanding them the used ones are not that great and don't last long enough and it's a pain in the ass they'll keep doing it and have to there's tons of used cars but they're really not lasting they last a few months some of them a year maybe and it's a pain in the ass there's tons of them coming out and they have to use them but we need new cars and they screaming it and they want and several factories are opening but they need to open millions of factories it just hasn't happened yet it will shortly when you say idiots are out of the way in the upper Midwest and kind of defending it it was a lot of stuff that we do it works for us one more thing or a couple

-Frozen trouble with these weird people and they have nothing we need to express that they can't do certain things like what they're doing now some of this way out of line we need to do it pretty soon and we're up to that

-this other stuff that's happening it seem to find out that they're claiming victory over us all the time due to the smallest manute idiotic thing that they can find wrong with our son's doing it's extremely annoying I've never heard so much annoying stuff in my life these candy asses are getting their asses kicked in battle so easily they have no idea what they're doing and they're sitting there saying that stupid s*** all day long then they get injured and critically maimed beyond belief and they can't figure it out it's like well Jesus suck that's what it is Je

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Here's one update that we didn't touch on he is trying his best to do what he has to he's slow down and it's working good I was thinking a little bit and it works much better and they've trying to make him race for 2 years down here and a lot of it is actually these morons and they're getting their asses handed to them and they really should and we have to take territory while we can and that is right now

Hera

[yuujispinkhair]

Summer Paradise with Yuu (Chapter 1)

I swear you put the sun up in my sky, so hot it's like the middle of July

When you agreed to join your friends on a spontaneous summer vacation, you didn't expect to a) get pulled out of the ocean by some random guy who thinks you are drowning and b) that this guy is hotter than the summer sun.

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: fluff, smut, Lifeguard AU but not really lol Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: 18+, smut in later chapters, falling into the ocean. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

This will be a short summer series because Yuuji is my sexy summer boy, and I am obsessed with the idea of summer vacation with him! I'm trying to keep the chapters short!

Masterpost Chapter 1: I swear you put the sun up in my sky, so hot it's like the middle of July Chapter 2: All your kisses taste like Malibu Chapter 3: Touch me like a summer night, you feel like a holiday Chapter 4: Back to Summer Paradise with you

Chapter 1

Summer vacation with your two best friends on a beautiful island with a beach right out of a fantasy. It sounds like paradise. And so far, it has been that! But right now, the summer paradise is about to turn into summer hell because you are about to make a huge fool of yourself.

You squeal loudly as your Flip Flop catches on an uneven plank of the idyllic wooden pier you are currently strolling across, making you stumble and lose your balance. You reach out for something to steady you, but your fingertips only manage to graze your friend's elbow before your fate is sealed, and you tumble very ungracefully off the pier, right into the ocean.

Of course, something embarrassing like this has to happen to you! 

Above anything else, you are angry at yourself. Who the fuck falls off a pier? And now everyone is pointing at you and probably laughing.

Your pretty sundress is soaked with salt water, and your brand new Flip Flops are lost somewhere in the ocean. Luckily your friend is holding your bag, so at least your phone and money didn't fall into the water.

It's only a little comfort, though, because the embarrassment is too big. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you are filled with shame as you cough and spit out the water you swallowed.

Fear of drowning is the last thing on your mind. Because after all, you can swim and the ocean is calm and warm. The shore isn't far away either. But you feel nauseous at the thought of having to swim all the way there while all eyes are on you.

Oh god, there will probably be funny videos of you all over social media! You hate it! You want to hide away forever.

Just as you start your swim of shame towards the beach, you are startled by a loud splash behind you. And then something wraps around you and pulls you against a solid object.

Another squeal escapes your lips, this time a scared one. What is going on?

You struggle against the tight grip, trying panicky to get away from the thing. Are there any big fish here? Is something trying to pull you underwater?

"Shhh, it's ok! It's ok! I got you! Please stop struggling! You aren't drowning! I got you!"

What the fuck??

You blink rapidly, looking down, and suddenly you realize that the things wrapped around your body are arms. Strong arms! You can't see who they belong to, but they are muscular and hold you in an iron grip.

Oh no! Did you cause a lifeguard rescue mission? This is the last thing you want! Now there will be an even bigger commotion.

"Hey! Stop! I don't need help! I'm not drowning! I am fine!"

"It's ok! You are safe with me! I will bring you to the beach! I got you!"

Either he didn't hear you, or he doesn't believe you. You try to shake him off again but to no avail. The mysterious stranger is strong! And he is on a mission to "save" you. Before you can argue more, he has already started swimming towards the beach, dragging you along with him, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

You want the ocean to swallow you whole and never let you go again. On the hitlist of your most mortifying moments, this is probably in first place.

You lift your face to look up at the pier but regret it instantly. A little crowd has gathered by now, watching the "rescue mission". Some have their phones out and are recording it.

It feels like forever until you reach the sandy beach and the water gets shallow enough for you to stand. You try to put one foot in front of the other, but your savior is having none of it.

"Stop! You are too weak for that! I'll bring you to safety. Don't worry, please. I'll help you! Everything's gonna be ok, sweetie."

By now, you have resigned to your fate. It can't get any more embarrassing, right? And so you don't even put up a fight when your mysterious Baywatch guy lifts you up into his beefy arms and carries you bridal style towards the beach.

People are cheering and clapping upon seeing the hero carrying the poor damsel in distress, while you groan and hide your face in your hands.

Why is this happening to me?

You still have no idea who that guy is who pulled you out of the water. But now he has reached the shore and carefully lays you down on the warm sand.

The first thing you see is pink hair. It's plastered to a tan forehead which belongs to a handsome face with pretty honey-colored eyes that watch you worriedly.

Water droplets are dripping down the short pink hair and get caught in long black lashes before they fall down further and land on strong muscular thighs, which are kneeling next to your head.

You gulp hard.

Your personal Baywatch guy is hot! And fucking ripped! No wonder you stood no chance when you tried shaking him off. His bare torso is adorned with buff muscles, toned biceps, and big pecs. He looks so strong. All muscles and smooth tan skin.

You watch dazedly as small water rivulets run down his defined abs before they disappear in the elastic band of his red swim trunks.

His voice sounds worried when he addresses you while his big honey eyes scan you for any injuries.

"Are you ok? Do you hurt anywhere? Did you swallow a lot of water?"

You are too stunned to answer. Your mind is still trying to catch up with the whole situation. Falling into the ocean, embarrassing yourself, and getting pulled out of the water by this hot guy.

You want to tell him you are ok. You really do! But those muscles and the damn water droplets glistening on his skin are too distracting!

But your savior seems to take your stunned silence as an indication that you aren't ok at all. His pretty eyes widen in panic.

"Shit! Oh my god, I think you swallowed too much water! Fuck, fuck fuck! I have no idea how this works! But I won't let you die! Come here!"

Your mind is working too slowly. You just stare at your "savior" in confusion, trying to make sense of what is happening. What does he mean he has no idea what to do? You thought he was a lifeguard! Or isn't he? Did a random stranger jump into the water to rescue you?

And before you can do anything, your mysterious savior leans down. His large shadow falls over you, and the next thing you know, two strong hands are cupping your cheeks.

And then a warm mouth gets pressed onto yours.

Your eyes widen. What the fuck? You don't understand what is happening. Why would that guy kiss you so out of the blue?! Is he insane? Is he some pervert?

Your hands come up instinctively to push against his broad chest. But he doesn't even seem to notice and instead keeps fumbling around on your face with his hands while his mouth moves over yours.

You feel his hot breath on your lips. And that is when it dawns on you. This doesn't feel like a kiss... He is trying to blow air into your mouth!

Oh.

He is trying to give you CPR!

If your mouth wasn't covered, you'd burst into hysterical laughter. The whole situation is so fucking awkward. Your eyes are wide open, and you can see the legs of the crowd surrounding you and your mysterious lifeguard.

And just when you think things can't get any worse, you feel your savior's lips leave yours, and his fingers wander over your face and up to your nose. Apparently remembering that he should pinch your nose, but before he can do that, you react and do the only thing that comes to your mind: You turn your head and bite his finger.

"AAARGH!!"

Your savior is sitting back on his heels, shaking his hands and looking with big eyes at the finger you bit.

Finally, you find your voice, and it comes out as an enraged cry:

"Stop it already!! I wasn't drowning! I am fine! I told you I am ok!"

"What?"

Honey eyes meet yours, and Mr. wannabe lifeguard blinks at you in confusion.

You sigh and try again, calmer this time. After all, you know you shouldn't be angry at him. The only one to blame for this awkward mess is you and your inability to walk down a pier without tripping!

"I am fine. I wasn't in trouble. And I didn't swallow any water. I am just super embarrassed about the whole commotion this caused, and I would very much like to just disappear."

"Oh? So.. um... you weren't drowning?"

You shake your head,

"No, I wasn't."

"But I thought...oh crap! I am sorry!!"

Your personal lifeguard scratches his pink hair, blushing and making a sheepish expression. He looks really cute, if you are honest.

Suddenly you feel bad about snapping at him. He is a good guy! He literally jumped into the water to save your life. How was he supposed to know you didn't need help?

And so you force yourself to smile weakly at him.

"No, don't be sorry, please. It's nice that you wanted to help. Thank y..."

But you can't finish your sentence because at that moment, a girl appears behind your mysterious savior and grabs his shoulder.

"Itadori! What the fuck are you doing? Just because you're wearing red swimming trunks doesn't mean this is Baywatch or something! You're embarrassing all of us! Leave the poor girl alone!"

You blink up at your still blushing hero and a girl with ginger hair and indignant brown eyes, who is leaning over your savior's shoulder to gaze curiously down at you.

"Hey, are you ok? I apologize for this idiot! He is a bit dumb but means well."

The only thing you manage to do is nod as you watch in stunned silence as the rather petite girl pulls the wannabe lifeguard called Itadori to his feet. He towers over her, tall and muscular, but the girl is unrelentingly tugging on his arm and cussing at him while his honey gaze meets yours again, and he smiles apologetically.

"I'm so sorry for this mess!"

"Shut up! You're just making it worse! Now get back with us!"

Your gaze wanders from him to the girl and back again, but before you can say anything, the girl already drags Itadori along. He holds up a hand in an awkward little wave, grinning sheepishly at you,

"Sorry again! Enjoy your stay at the beach!"

You weakly lift a hand as you watch him stumble after the girl and hear them both bickering.

"Oi Kugusaki let go of me! I was just trying to help!"

"You are so fucking dumb! Can't take you anywhere!!"

You sit up slowly, staring dumbfounded after the pair. Your drenched sundress clings uncomfortably to your body, and you are sure you look absolutely horrible. But your gaze is still glued to the muscular figure of your savior, and you catch yourself thinking that his smile was really pretty. As bright as the sun somehow.

Luckily the crowd around you gradually dissolves, saving you from further embarrassment. But you still sigh miserably as you think about having to walk all the way back to the pier and search for your friends.

That's when you see two familiar figures run towards you. Apparently, your friends already found you. They are both out of breath, panting heavily as they bombard you with worried questions.

"(Y/n), are you ok? How did this happen? Is everything fine again?"

"What was that guy doing? Who is he? Are you ok?"

You blink up at them, and suddenly the whole story seems so stupid that you can't help but snort with laughter. You take your friends' offered hands and let them pull you to your feet, where you try to smooth down your ruined dress and finally manage to get out:

"Yeah, I'm ok. As ok as I can be after tripping and falling into the ocean in front of everyone and getting pulled out of the water by a stranger who decided to play lifeguard because he thought I was drowning! And everyone was watching and filming it! I have never been so embarrassed in my whole life! I will never be able to show my face again on this beach! But yes, physically, I am fine!"

More laughter erupts from your mouth as you gesture down the beach towards where Itadori is walking.

Your friends both turn to stare after your "savior," who is still getting dragged along by the ginger-haired girl, bright red swimming trunks and pastel pink hair clearly visible across the sandy beach.

There are two types of people in this world, and so when your friends both start talking at the same time, one of them says compassionately:

"Well, that's super embarrassing. I'm sorry this happened to you!"

While the other one whistles lowly under her breath and announces in an amused tone:

"Ooooh, Mr. "I jump into the ocean to save random girls" has a cute ass and a nice broad back! You are so lucky!"

Itadori chooses that moment to look over his shoulder back at where you are standing. When he sees you looking at him, he lifts a tan hand to wave at you and smile that bright sunshine smile once again. Even from a distance, he looks dazzling. And the movement of his arm makes his toned biceps flex beautifully.

He might not be a real lifeguard, but he sure as hell has the body of one of those Baywatch guys you saw on tv.

Your friends grab your arms at the same time and dig their nails into them. The one who was already gushing over Itadori adds in an excited whisper:

"Damn! And his face is really nice too! And those arms! He is fine as fuck! He could pull me out of the water every day!"

You don't know why you do it, but before you can stop yourself, you mutter:

"He gave me mouth to mouth."

There's a stunned silence for a moment, and then both of your friends turn to you simultaneously and scream.

"Oh my god, he did what? He kissed you?! Hot Baywatch guy kissed you? This is the stuff romantic movies are made of! You are living the dream, girl!"

"We must find him again so you can go on a date with him! Oh my god, this is so exciting! He's gonna be your summer romance!"

You hide your face in your hands. Ok, maybe there is only one type of person among your friends, and it's the crazy type!

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this little summer romance with sunshine boy and wannabe lifeguard Yuuji ;) I am losing my mind about him A LOT!! And I hope you find him sexy too! If I wanted someone to pull me out of the ocean, Yuuji would be my first choice.

Please let me know what you think about "lifeguard" Yuuji! Comments and reblogs make me happy!

Chapter 2

[tsintotwo]

Hello! I hope you are doing well. I am new to tumblr and your tumblr/blog was the very first one that got my attention when I looked up Tom Sturridge. You've got to be the most sweetest, sensible and the nicest person on here in regards to pretty much everything, especially Tom. I recently found out about Tom through the The Sandman, as I think many have too. It's a shame that a lot, if not all, are either objectifying him and or dismissing him completely as if he, himself is not just another human being. By dismissing him, I mean: ridiculing him for his quirky? attire to his haircuts to his naturally lean body figure. Most call those degrading comments: 'light hearted jokes' and or it's not like Tom is going to see them so we can say whatever. Then the same herd will go on about preaching body positivity and mental health. Moreover, it seems quiet obvious (at least to me) that he [Tom] is really a shy and a reserved person, perhaps even has low confidence in himself. He has even expressed how anxious he gets when the cameras are on him. But, knowing all that, such demeaning comments on how he stands or acts have never stopped. And most of the time, if not always, he is dressed up by a stylist for red-carpet events (recently by; prada, thome browne, ysl) and so if he isn't giving a photoshopped-vogue-model-look that doesn't mean he is subjected to ridicule 🤷‍♀️. He likes to reuse and recycle his everyday clothes - so what?. Aren't people always going on about how celebs are so full of themselves, decking themselves in brands head to toe giving people complexes and yet, here is this person doing to the exact opposite of it but instead of being appreciated, he is being made fun of it.

I, for one find it refreshing to see a celeb that isn't 24/7 pinned up, copy-pasted PR created humanoid but, in fact, has his own thought out opinions/answers and a personality unlike others. He is intelligent but if we are going to be shallow then the dude's got looks as well. I am perhaps being biased here but it just sucks to see someone so genuine be diminished to materialistic things .

I feel like you also see more to him than just someone who is good-looking. You most certainly don't have to reply back. Just wanted to share my 2 cents and perhaps know what do you think.

p.s: sorry for my grammar, english is not my first language.

Have a great day and happy holidays! :)

Anon, I have this thing. It's this: I find new stuff I like all the time- art and artists, things and people. They hype me up, I find communties to share my enthusiasm with about them, they give me good times, it's all fine. But then sometimes, more rarely, I stumble on something that I don't just like, I LOVE. I'm a chronic underfeeler and am mostly used to mild emotional middle grounds, but these things make me feel in extremes. Sometimes I don't know how to handle it.

That's how it is for me with Tom. I just love him, and he makes me feel a lot of things. This means I have to be cautious. I have to take Tom content- be it news, pics, gifs, stories- in doses I can manage, I have to curate what I see or learn. Otherwise, it could get messy. I could accidentally look at a picture in the morning and not get anything done that day because I'd just be having too many thoughts and feels. I could come across something someone said about him and it would make my brain go seventeen different ways and I would flash-freeze. And all of it would leave me scrambling for some sense and sanity. Call it a deficiency, call it weirdness- but this is how it is.

So, anon, this means I actually don't look at a lot of Tom Sturridge things said and made by other people. I don't ever look up pap/event photos of real-time things he's been doing 'cause I'm not comfortable (seems sorta stalkery to me), but even without that, I don't look for gifs, pics, fics, anything. I don't follow any stan blogs, any tags. I just can't handle it. I produce content (I learned making gifs, sound edits, video edits in the last few months, I've written more than I ever had before), because I need content and can't go searching for it. I have to be discovering him in my own terms.

Things being this way, I actually didn't know a lot of things you just told me. I didn't know he was actually being criticized for his quirks, his body, his clothes. That people were making fun of him. I'm not surprised to learn, though.

You see, it's a slippery slope with interest/obsession with people on the silver screen. I do NOT believe we should be crticizing artists in this way. But if I go tell someone- 'What gives you the right to talk shit about someone's personal choices? Actor or not, they're still real people.', they might counter with a bunch of things. They might argue that celebs consent to be objectified when they show off their bodies, agree to be photographed in enticing clothes, do titillating scenes. They might say it's those people's job to perform for us, capitalizing on our interest, so we have a say when they don't. They might say there's no need to be so serious about harmless trash talk about people who don't know we exist (as you mentioned). And, they might even ask me, if I'm acting so high and mighty about treating celebs like 'real people', how do I feel about being this hyperfixated on a 'real person', browsing their irl videos for hours, cataloguing every detail of their face, body, mannersim in some kind of internet shrine? How is that not creepy?

I don't have answers to all of these. And I understand this is a long-winded discussion you didn't ask for. But the definitive things I can tell you are these:

1. Half the reason I love Tom Sturridge so much is he seems to, frankly, not give a fuck about the performative side of being a celeb. It seems that acting/sometimes modelling is his job, not his lifestyle. It's funny- just a couple days ago I was talking about this with another blogger here. And I said the same thing: I LOVE that he'd show up at fashion afterparties in duck sweaters, would wear one random pair of blue pants to three different things, wouldn't care what other people think about his hair. It's HIS hair, HIS body- we may have preferences, but I don't believe we have a say. If you've been on my blog, you may have seen that I talk about takedown culture and living despite other people's judgement- I believe in that, I do that, and I deeply respect other people who do that without harming anyone. Those are my favorite people. (And quirky is my favorite brand of humor, so that's a win as well.) 

2. Tom is hot. I won't pretend that's not the thing that got me into him. But that was months ago. Skin-deep appreciation only lasts so long; if he didn't interest me as a person, I wouldn't still be bothering. As much as I don't really know him or will never know him, the parts of him that he chooses to share with us are enough for me to root for him forever. As you mention- he seems genuine, and beyond that, I could go on and on about why I think he's great, but in summary: sometimes people just click for you, you know? They just do it for you. I'm sure lots of celebs are lovely people, but for me, it's got to be Tom. 

3. I think a major problem with general stan culture is people want the shine of the celeb they like to reflect on them. I like Taylor Swift, and on twitter, there are lots of people who are always talking about her chart positions and records she breaks and stuff. It's because they want to be able to say, 'Well, I like someone who is that great!' It's almost like they're trying to raise their own worth by showing off the credits of their screen idol. So, for people used to this practices and these standards, someone who doesn't conventionally 'perform' in the public eye is an anomaly, and they're kind of standing there metaphorically poking that someone with their sticks, going, 'Do it, do it for us!' It's sad to see their trash talk and their bullying, but I don't think they will change. So I'll just gently remind you that when someone says those stuff about Tom, it says more about them than him, and I hope it doesn't have the power to upset you. 

Whew! That was a lot of things I just wrote, but writing is never something I mind. Thank you so much for the kind words that you said about me, and for giving me a chance to share my thoughts. Hope you had a great day, and happy holidays! (Don't worry at all about grammar, I learned English as a second language as well.)

[dreamifics]

Steve Harrington x Reader

Casuality

Just some fluff, angst and smut

Warning: mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activity, a little cursing

How did me and Y/N ended making out in my pool? Bad decisions and booze, that's the answer. I wanted it to stop, but it was good.. Too damn good. I can taste in her mouth the bitterness of the alcohol we drank a while ago. The mix of beer and vodka was still lingering in her mouth.

My hands run in her legs, as her hands tug my hair. There were fire igniting inside us, it was burning with lust and adrenaline. A low moan escapes her mouth, this added fuel to the fire inside us. We both knew that we'd regret this in the morning, but we didn't stop.

Y/N Henderson..

I'm close to her brother, but not to her. We fought monster beside each other, she was close to Robin, Nancy and Jonathan. But not to me, that's why I'm surprised when she arrived in my doorsteps, alcohol in her hands.

"Hey, Steviee!Wanna run around town and get smashed?"

She caught me off guard but I agreed, I was always intrigued by her. I never noticed her in high school but she seems to know everything about me.

"Oh, come on!Steve!I'm not stupid!I know you use that shitty shampoo and conditioner!"

"It's not shitty!It's the real deal!"

"Whatever, let's go back to your house and take a dip in your fancy pool!"

My mind snapped back as we moved to my bed, Y/N's heavy breaths and low moans was all I could hear from her. We drop in my bed, we knew were going to spend all night here. The sheets wrapped around our naked bodies, legs entangled with each others. Moans filling the room, sweats dripping from our hot naked body. We were drunk and stupid. Sobriety and rational thinking was out the window. This night was filled with bad decisions and bad decisions only.

Days have passed since that night, we decided to continue the relationship but we're keeping it casual. We're now sitting in my car, music blasting on the stereo on a low volume. She was looking blankly on the window as I drive her to campus.

"What are you thinking about?" I questioned, snapping her out of her trance. She smiled at me as she relaxed into the passenger seat.

"Whatever your thinking about.."

"Dustin moaning really weird last night?" I joked causing her to glare at me.

"No, but now that's what I'm thinking.." I chuckled at her response as I paid attention to the road.

"Hey, do you want to have a sleep over tonight?"

"Sleepover?What are you ten?Do you also want to braid each other's hair and have a pillow fight?" Her witty remarks always get me laughing, that's one thing I like about you Y/N..

"Come on, we're not gonna be sleeping anyway.." I pleaded.

"Ooh, Stevie gonnna give me the lovey dovey!" She said in a baby voice. Gotta admit, that was weird as hell.

"Oh dear god.." I mumbled under my breath.

"What's that Harrington?" Her glares could literally kill someone, I just gave her an innocent smile, she just rolled her eyes.

"Nothing.."

"I'll see you tonight, then.."

A comfortable silence filled the ambiance of the car, if I know Y/N and I think I do, she'll try to rummage her brain for something to talk to--.

"What was Dustin moaning about?" There it is..

"Oh dear god.." I just shake my head in amusement.

The first time I had ever seen you cry was the day we got home from campus, snots and tears were everywhere. I never saw you cry, even when we almost died twice while trying to save the world. Not a one single tear, but now your here infront of me. Tears in your eyes, as you sobbed into my chest. I don't know what to do, should I comfort you?

"What happend?" I finally asked the lingering thought in my head.

"I saw Dad with his brand new family.."

Y/N's father..

I never really met him but to what I gather from Y/N and Dustin is that he's a coward. He left his family to be with another woman.. Putting the three of you to emotional trauma and abuse.

"I'm sorry.." That's all I could say..

"After all what he did to Mom and Dustin, he have the audacity to be happy while Mom cover up the pain with cats.."

"I hate my dad, I swear if he ever comes back, I'll feed him to the demogorgons.. Why does this always happen to me? Can everything be just fine again?"

I hate seeing her like this.. What should I say? I can't really relate to her, my parents still stood by me.

"I'd do whatever I could do, if you want to get wasted, I'll do it with you, If you want to burn your dad's house, I'll be down with that. Just don't cry, I can't stand seeing you like this."

A small laugh erupted from her, moving beside me, she lay her head into my shoulders.

"Thanks for the reassurance Harrington.."

"That's what I'm here for.."

"Come on Steve, let's make out in your pool.." Y/N stands up, and gave me her hand, I gladly accepted it.

"Why do you have to ruin the mood?"

"How's that ruining the mood?If anything, I'm building the mood." She said in a sultry and teasing voice. I rolled my eyes, does she think I'll get turned on by that. She was crying just a moment ago, she was releasing snots.

"I think you have daddy issues, love.." It was her turn to roll her eyes.

"We all have daddy issues.." I grab her cheeks and peck her lips.

"We both have daddy issues, then." She just gave me the most precious smile that ever existed.. Oh, God. How I love you.

The first fight we had was also our last, it was your birthday. We were hanging out in your room, laying in her bed as the television played Star Wars. The pale moon was dancing all throughout the room, I knew there was something bothering me, we've been doing this for months, keeping everything casual. I'm growing tired of the constant thought that someone will take her away from me.. Don't get me wrong, I love Y/N, I'm not sure how she feel about me though. Y/N's like a close book, hard to read. So many things that I wish I knew, but there's so many walls that I can't break through. ( Where the swifties at? )

"Are you okay?" Y/N soft voice pulled me out of my head.

Am I really okay?No, why? I want us to be in a committed relationship, where someone can't take you away from me. That's how much I love you..

"Nothing, just thinking about us.." A small smile tugged in her lips as she scoot closer.

"What about us?" She asked, her brows wiggling.

"Being casual and all.." The smile she had falter, she moved away from me, running her hands through her hair.

"You know I'm not ready yet.."

"You always say that."

"Steve!I can't have this exact same conversation with you over and over again!" And here we are, fighting.. The anger inside me flicked open, I know it won't do good but I still went ahead and got mad.

"Why can't you say it once?!" Our shouts echoed through the whole house, her Mom is probably worried about her.

"What can't I say?!" She asked confused and angry at the samw time.

"That you love me!" The whole room suddenly got quiet, the look in Y/N's face was hard to read. Are you shocked? Scared? Angry? What? Do you love me like I love you? Please, say the words that I want--no, what I need to hear.

"Steve, we both know that we agreed to keep things casual.." She finally spoke, but not the words that came out was not what I needed.

"Casual?We've been together for almost a year now, how much more casual do you want it to get?"

"I--Steve, I can't do this now.." She backs away from me, opening her door wide open for me to leave.

"Why?" That's all that exited my mouth..

"Because I need space!" She snaps, a involuntary scoff left my lips.

"Space from what?!We barely have a relationship!"

"Just get away!I can't believe your pressuring me!" She shouts, but I stayed to say the words I'll regret..

"Let's just end whatever the fuck this is!"

"Fine!" She screamed as she walks up to me and pushed me out of her room.. Reaching the end of her door, she pushed me. I stumbled but managed to bounce back, before I can even say another word she slammed the door. And there's that..

"Steve?" Dustin came out of his room, a worried expression painted in his face.

"Are you and Y/N okay?"

"Yeah, it's just a--" I stopped at the middle of the sentence, my mouth refused to let the words escape.

"A what?" He questioned.

A break up..

"Nothing, it's nothing.." I lied..

I didn't know why I couldn't say the words. I clearly never wanted this to happen, I didn't know what happend. And I can't take it back, what's done is done..

Life with Y/N was hard, but life without her is much harder. Was I in the wrong? I shouldn't have pressure her, all I wanted is to go up at her house. But Dustin told me, she was really busy with a lot of schoolworks. Where did it get so complicated?

I was walking home when I saw Y/N, just standing in my porch front step. She seems fidgety and nervous, those sweet eyes seem to notice me. Y/N was wearing one of my Van Halen shirts, with a short and just some sneakers. You always looked beautiful in my shirts..

"Steve.." I love how she says my name, but I love it more if she screams my name. Flashes of her naked body grinding on me suddenly appeared on my head. This was not the time but I couldn't help it. I miss her..

"Hey.." I greet..

"I just wanted to--"

"I should be the one apologizing, I shouldn't pressure you like that.." I cut her off, I'm right. There's no need to apologize, I was in the wrong. I pressured her when I agreed to keep it casual.

"Still, I'm sorry too.." Y/N was always nice, never letting her pride get in the way of her life.. An eerie silence once filled our conversation, I never wanted this but maybe..

"Maybe it's best if I give you the space you nee--"

"I love you.." She cuts me off..

"Huh?" My mind went blank, my eyes blink rapidly as I try to sink in the three words you just dropped.

"I don't need space, I love you Steve Harrington.." She confessed cheekily, a small smile appeared on our face.

"I love you too.." She just smiles at me, but she was waiting for something. What is it? A ring, maybe? But this is not a proposal..

"What are you waiting for?Kiss me."

Ohh, right.. The way I moved was slow, I think she grew impatient because you pulled me and our lips collided into one. The way your lips was covered in the strawberry chapstick I gave you, this was my favorite thing in the world. I slid my tongue, it danced with yours. I pushed you in my door, opening it in the process.

When it burst open, we celebrated by going into my bed. Pushing Y/N into the bed was pretty arousing. We didn't need words or foreplay, we're pretty straightforward. Our lips once connected again, heavy breaths and low moans was all I could hear.

We slowly undressed each other, our lips was still intact, rushing into things was never really your motto. I felt your skin made contact with mine, I felt the heat from your body. My hands were making their way to her tender breasts, I slowly massaged it until the nipples turned like tiny stones. A loud moan came out from her mouth, I couldn't resist and licked them, biting them playfully. Another moan came out from her sweet lips, I stopped as I took out my hard and mounting manhood, I rest it unto her thighs. Y/N sits up, looking at me with questions in those eyes.

"What happend?You got tired?" Y/N whisper in her sultry voice.

"Taunting me?Really?"

Before she can even respond I got on top of bed and smirked, your naked body was softly laying in my bed. This made me harder, you're so perfect in every way. My hands are already in your legs, spreading it wide and open. I can see you closing your eyes at my touch, I drove my two fingers inside her. She moans with the contact it made, eyes rolled in the back of her head. I ravish her breast with my mouth as my fingers interact inside her.

"Fuck, Steve!"

I was hitting the right places, she was twisting left and right, her hands were gripping my sheets, I pulled my fingers out and replaced it with my organ. A loud piercing moan escapes her lips as I pump into her, every thrust was in sync with her breathing. I slowly grunt as I pump harder and deeper into her, I yank her legs back, as my other hand gripped her ass. I dug myself further into her, setting off another shattering moan.

"Steve, faster."

I increasing the speed, she wrapped her arms around my back, her nails digging into my skin. Pain and Pleasure was a great mixture for me. I hit every possible spot inside her, the nails dug deeper as I thrust harder and much more deeper. The speed increased once again, as I feel both of our climax building up inside, it can explode any second now. Every thrust I make, every moan she screams, and every sweat that drips was a cherry on top.

"Fuck, I'm coming!"

With that we both exploded into each other, I felt a warm liquid flows between her legs and mine. A small smile appeared on her lips as we were both out of breath, her hair was all disheveled.

"Well, that was fun.." She whisper, her voice hoarsed from all the moaning she did.

"I can see.." I joked causing her cheeks to blush..

"Shut up!"

I pulled out, she shivered at that action. I laid next to her, she looks at me with love and compassion. She pecked a kiss in my lips, cuddling besides me as the moon peaked through my windows. Y/N deserves every love and adoration in the world, I'm going to marry you someday..

This is my first smut ever, I hope it was..nice? If there's anything wrong I did in the smut, you can tell me, I'll do anything to improve it! I also accept request, any characters! Marvels, DC, B99, FRIENDS, Criminal Minds, TBBT, Community, basically anything! I accept anything! You can leave a comment or give me an ask!

Taglist

@sydneekomspacekru

[bucksfucks]

           amorosa // steve rogers

         chapter two: seal the deal

    chapter one // chapter two // chapter three

                    chapter four // chapter five

              ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

                             main masterlist

summary || after setting up a date with steve you fight back the urge to bail on account of your nerves. an agreement is reached and despite all odds, steve makes you feel relaxed and calm before you’re welcoming him back to your apartment after the night is almost over.

pairing || sugar daddy!steve x reader

word count || 3,111 words

warnings || financial struggles, sugar daddy dynamics, undefined age gap, unprotected sex, fingering, oral, heavy daddy kink, praise kink, size kink, dirty talk — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

     You didn't know what to expect. You had never done something like this before. 

     As you rummaged through your closet, groaning at the struggle of finding something decent for tonight. You didn't own anything that would match what Steve was wearing, you barely had time to go out as it is.

    Not to mention your financial situation didn't exactly let you splurge on the finer things in life, your phone screen had been cracked for over half a year. You'd been meaning to get it fixed, but you could never justify dropping more than a hundred dollars on something that still technically worked. 

    Your mind flashed back to when Steve dropped the hundred on the bar like it was nothing. Suddenly you felt self-conscious, knowing you weren't nearly good enough to be going out with a man like Steve Rogers, Vice President of Stark Industries. 

    Professional or not, people would be talking and giving you odd glances. 

    You settled on a comfortable, sleek pair of straight cut pants and a simple blouse. Steve had decided on a steakhouse, a steakhouse of all places for a single drink as he put it last night. Another groan as you slipped on the uncomfortable and only pair of heels you owned. 

    A simple black open-toed shoe matched your outfit enough before you grabbed your purse, slinging it over your shoulder. 

    The Uber would be here soon enough and while spending thirty dollars on a car ride to a place you'd have to try not to stick out like a sore thumb, the subway in heels just wasn't an option. 

    The entire ride there your leg couldn't stop bouncing, no matter how much you willed yourself to calm down, nothing seemed to help as you left the modest looking part of the city only to enter into an entirely different world. 

    Luxury brand stores lined the streets, expensive cars parked at their side as your stomach flipped at some of the sights. 

    You didn't fit in here, you were sure your driver was just as confused as you as they kept driving deeper into the city. 

    "Have a good night," he bid you as you thanked him, shutting the car door and letting the late summer breeze billow around you as you looked up at the restaurant in front of you. 

    Bluefin read in a fluorescent blue light as you shook your head, laughing at the ridiculous situation you were in. You pulled at the door, it was heavy and tall before a hostess prompted you. 

    "Do you have a reservation with us, miss?" She asked, eying you up and down as if she knew that you were a fraud, like you didn't belong; and she wasn't wrong. 

    "I uh, have one with Mr. Rogers." You stumbled over your words trying to sound as confident as possible. She nodded her head politely, asking you to follow her before she swiftly turned to lead you through the maze of tables. 

    You took in your surroundings, the dozens of chandeliers hanging from the ceiling to the gold plated booths and shimmering table legs. It was safe to say that this place was way out of your comfort zone. 

    "Mr. Rogers, your guest for the evening," she spoke sweetly, throwing you a small smile as Steve got up to greet you. He placed a kiss on each of your cheeks, the action causing your body to flush as his beard grazed your skin. 

    He smelled exactly like he did last night, though this time it wasn't as subtle. He smelled fresh and clean and you could get lost in those same dashing blue eyes again.

    "I'm glad to see you again." Steve smiles, helping you into the booth before sliding in beside you. It was a very intimate space, his shoulder pressed against your as you placed your purse beside you. 

    Two menus were already placed in front of you, two glasses of water alongside a pitcher in the middle as you fiddled with your thumbs in your lap. Could he tell how nervous you were? 

    "It's nice to see you too," you managed to finally spit out as Steve smiled sweetly, he turned his body slightly so he was facing you, "this place has great seafood, I really recommend the crab cakes." 

    Your eyes lit up at the word food, you had been so nervous that it had barely crossed your mind. A waiter soon approached the table, "can I get you guys anything to drink?" 

    You felt like it should be you serving Steve, instead you just shook your head, "I'm okay with just water." You answered truthfully before Steve smirked. 

    "We'll take a bottle of champagne for the table, preferably rosé from 2012." It sounded like he was speaking an entirely different language. To you, wine was wine, if it got you drunk, it was good. 

    The waiter nodded his head, turning around to leave you both alone. You took a sip of your water when you noticed just how dry your throat was. Steve opened his menu and you followed suit before your eyes ran down the various dishes. 

     Everything sounded good and you heard your stomach grumble at the thought of the crab cakes and maybe even the butternut squash ravioli. Then your eyes ran to the prices, your heart palpated at the thought of them. 

    "Dinner's on me tonight, get whatever you'd like." It's like Steve had heard your internal monologue and decided to put an end to it. You were thankful for that, a wave of relief washing over you as his soft features made you feel safe. 

    "Thank you, really. I don't think I've ever eaten anywhere nearly this fancy," you joked, hoping the humour would absolve you of your awkwardness. Steve chuckled, low and deep as the waiter came with the champagne. 

    It was popped then poured into the flutes and placed in ice before Steve picked his up. 

    "To new beginnings," he spoke. You picked up yours, "to new beginnings," you repeated his words, gently clinking the two glasses together before taking a sip. 

    You had never been a fan of champagne, but this one wasn't too dry nor was it too sweet. It was light and fruity and soon enough you knew it would be enough to quell the nerves. 

    When the food arrived at the table, the conversation seemed to flow much more naturally. Steve didn't say much, asking a question and letting you answer as he got to know you. You found yourself sneaking subtle glances in his direction, admiring his side profile or just how close he was to you. 

    As the bottle of champagne was nearly empty, you felt much lighter as giggles fell past your lips. You had leaned into Steve a little more as the night progressed, his large hand falling to your thigh. 

    "So," the faint echo of your giggle was still heard as Steve's expression turned to a much more serious one. "I think we should discuss our… business opportunity." And just like that, you had sobered up. 

    You nodded your head as Steve cleared his throat. 

    "I'd like for you to join me for things like these. Dinner, company events, fundraisers, yearly ski trips to the alps, you know, the boring stuff." You nearly guffawed at his words. The boring stuff? A trip to the alps? Boring? You could barely believe it. 

    Still, you nodded your head, a silent sign for him to continue. 

    "In return, I'll take care of all your bills and expenses. You'll have plenty of petty cash, we'll call it," he smirked. "All I ask is for your company." He concludes and you swallow, taking it all in. 

    "When you say company, do you mean… " You trailed off, not sure how to delicately ask him if he wanted to fuck you or not. 

    Steve leaned in, his face inches from yours as he squeezed your thigh, "that's exactly what I mean, Princess." 

    The pet-name caused your stomach to somersault as your breath got hitched in your throat. You're not sure if it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or if this was just the effect he had on people. 

    Probably a mix of both. 

    Whatever it was, it caused you to wring your hands in his collar as you crashed your lips onto his. He didn't hesitate, not even for a second as his hands went to cup your face. The kiss left you breathless, spinning, and feeling like you were floating. 

    "Is that a yes?" He asks cheekily and you can't find the words, all you can do is nod your head before Steve is forced to drop your face as the waiter brings him the check. 

    You readjust yourself in your seat, one leg on top of the other as you close your eyes to steady your breathing. 

    Steve grabbed his leather wallet, pulling out a flashy black credit card and handing it to the poor man doing his job without any regard. You bit your lip at the interaction, someone with his money and power, it made the throbbing between your legs only worse. 

    "Let me drive you home." Steve whispered meeting your eyes as you nodded, "oh it's okay, I can just take the train back." You said politely and while you didn't want to, you sure as hell couldn't afford another Uber trip. 

    It's not like you didn't want to take him up on his offer either, truthfully, you weren't sure how you were going to react all alone with Steve. 

    You don't fuck on the first date, but for Steve, hell you'd let him take you in the bathroom of this restaurant. God knows it's probably better maintained than your building. 

    "Please? I don't want you alone on the train at this hour, you'd have me worrying all night and I don't think you'd wanna upset me like that." There was a sultry undertone in his words as his lips twitched into a smirk. 

    You nodded your head, "yes, okay, thank you Steve." 

    When you stepped into the now cool late night summer air a shiver ran down your spine as the valet went to grab Steve's car. You stayed silent, kicking a pebble with your toe as you tried your best not to shiver. 

    You felt Steve drape his suit jacket over your shoulders, "chilly night, huh?" He joked, as you hugged it around yourself. This man was full of secrets, secrets you wanted to learn to lock away in your own mind. 

    "Here you are Mr. Rogers, have a great night." The valet said, acknowledging you both as he opened the passenger side door for you. You slipped into the warm car, an Audi, you recognized the four rings on the steering wheel as Steve got in. 

    The car was quiet, city nose becoming nonexistent as he put it in drive. 

    "Where am I going?" He asked, pulling out of the restaurant parking lot and into the bustling New York City streets. 

    "Queens," you said, admiring the lights outside of your window as Steve chuckled, "no way, I grew up in Brooklyn." Steve commented as you turned your head. 

    That surprised you. A guy like him? From Brooklyn? You guess you should've known by his subtle accent, but it made you smile as Steve continued his way to your apartment. 

    "Well, uh, thank you for dinner, Steve. Really, it was the best food of my life." You chuckled as he returned your smile. "It was my pleasure, you're good company." He joked, squeezing your thigh as a new wave of arousal running through you. 

    You both sat in somewhat awkward silence as you grabbed your keys from your bag, clutching them in your hand. 

    "Do you maybe wanna come up for a cup of coffee? Or tea? I don't really have much to offer." You chuckled, as he smiled, “that sounds lovely." 

    Steve followed you to the front of your building, the old, paint chipped door creaking open before you pressed the elevator button that only illuminated on good days. 

    Today was not that day. 

    You tapped your foot as you watched the numbers descent until the L appeared on the small screen, the bell dinging. You got into it silently, the only sound was your heels against the stained flooring and the electrical whirring of the elevator. 

    Steve kept a respectable distance, his shoulder brushing yours as the elevator car moved up to the eleventh floor. 

    You stuck your key into your lock, jamming it upwards as you fiddled to find the sweet spot before you managed to push the door open, "home sweet home." 

    The apartment was small, a little over five-hundred square feet, but it was more than enough for you. You decorated it with plants and art you'd find at your local markets. It felt cozy and like home, but you knew it was nothing compared to what Steve was used to. 

    You didn't bother turning on any of the main lights, a small light in the kitchen was all you needed as you were finally able to kick off your heels. You dropped to your true height, having to crane your neck upwards to meet Steve's eyes. 

    It was in this moment that you realized just how massive he was. Broad shoulders and long legs held him upright as his now darkened eyes looked you up and down. You had forgotten all about the coffee as you felt his gaze all over you. 

    "You look stunning," he whispered, stepping closer to you. "Words just don’t do justice." He added, snaking an arm around your waist. 

    "Let me show you just how beautiful you are to me." He breathed, mouth close to your ear as you gasped, nodding your head. 

    "Oh, Steve, please." You whimpered, your hands going to rest on his shoulders as he pulled you flush against his body. You could feel him hardening through his dress pants, pressed tightly against your hip. 

    "Call me Daddy tonight, Princess." Steve purred as your stomach flipped before his lips were back on yours. He tasted like the remnants of the champagne as his tongue explored your mouth. 

    "Daddy," you gasped, his lips working his way down your neck as he pushed you further into your apartment. You yelped when he tossed you onto the bed, the moonlight streaming through your curtains and onto the sheets. 

    "That's my good girl, you're bein' so good for Daddy." His praise sends goosebumps over your skin as his fingers begin working on your blouse. You can sense the urgency in his actions, both of your hands having one goal in mind; remove any and all clothing. 

    You barely have any time to stop and admire Steve's build. He's toned, lean and fit and you already love the faint chest hair as he works on your bra. It's discarded soon after, your panties being yanked off before Steve's standing naked in front of you. 

    "Fuck," it's a breath that falls from Steve's lips as he's right back on top of you. His nose traces down your chest, his mouth paying equal attention to both of your nipples before his mouth is floating above where you need him most. 

    Neatly decorated hair covers your mound as Steve places your legs over his large shoulders, spreading you open in front of him as he lets out a low groan. 

    "Princess, you're so wet. Is this all for me? Is this why you've been so squirmy during dinner?" He smirks, his question rhetorical as he uses his fingers to spread your lips open. 

    Your hips are bucking, fists around your sheets as you whine. Steve's tongue is wide and warm against you when it finally connects with you. A lewd moan slips past your lips when he swirls it tightly around your clit. 

    The attention to detail is mind blowing, his fingers slowly slipping inside of you as he works you open. There's nowhere in the world you'd rather be than right here with Steve's face buried between your thighs. 

    "You taste so sweet, Princess." He hums, moaning around you as your fingers tangle in his once neatly styled hair. You tug on the locks, a low groan in response that spreads warmth through your body. 

    "Daddy, pl-please, wanna cum." You're lost in the sensation of his fingers scissoring you open, his tongue flicking tight figure-eights over your clit. 

    "Cum for Daddy, Princess, cum all over my face." He growls, curling his fingers deep inside of you, breaking the coil as your back arches off the bed. 

    You feel like you've just ran a marathon, lungs aching for oxygen, and he hadn't even gotten his cock yet. 

    "Hands and knees, Princess. Show Daddy your ass," he growls, flipping you over as you prop yourself up on shaky knees. You're mewling, wanton and burning to feel how his cock will fill you up. 

    The bed shifts under Steve’s weight as his fingers dig lightly into the flesh of your waist, positioning your hips as his cock nudges your entrance. 

    “You think you’re ready for my cock, Princess?” He taunts as you wiggle your hips against him as he chuckles deeply from within his chest before slowly sinking into you. 

    You both moan at the sensation, your warm walls gripping around him as he stretches you out. 

    “Takin’ Daddy’s cock so well Princess—fuck, feels so good.” Steve grunts, his hips snapping against yours with a force that has you falling face first into the pillows. 

    His one hand goes to rest between your shoulder blades, keeping you planted firmly against the bed as he fucks you deep into your worn out mattress. 

    Your moans are muffled, you're thankful for the position considering your walls are paper thin and you'd rather not have your eighty-five year old neighbour Darleen hear about the mind-blowing sex you were currently engaged in. 

    "You gonna cum for Daddy again? Make a mess over his cock, hmm?" He whispers in your ear, voice hoarse and gravelly as your toes curl and you're cumming again for him. 

    Steve pulls out, fisting his cock in his hands before you're feeling his hot cum painting your back as you're reeling at the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

    You're pulled out of your post-orgasmic bliss when you feel Steve cleaning you up with what? You don't care, you'd do laundry tomorrow, throw it away, all you wanted was to feel Steve's arms around you. 

    He falls back into bed with you, his gentle eyes meeting yours as he chuckles, "if that doesn't seal the deal, I don't know what will."

tagging // @jennmurawski13 | @nakedrogers

any and all feedback is always appreciated! <3

[boop-le-snoot]

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hot wheels | natasha romanoff x reader

explicit, 5,2k words, f/f. meet-ugly but still very much wholesome. we love a girlboss. natasha catches some random woman keying her brand new car but decides to be the better person for once and hear the woman out. turns out, being the better person can even get one laid! warnings: singular use of the d-slur, references to an abusive ex, lesbian sex.

[no y/n, no "you", nickname only, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns]

Natasha gave the tall, lanky boy an unimpressed look as she side-stepped the arguing couple to avoid colliding with the annoyed, teary-eyed woman the boy was groveling to. It was nearing rush hour and there was shopping to be done before the heavy NYC traffic could steer her already busy schedule down into an unmanageable chaos.

"But, Foxy, you know I didn't mean it! I love you, more than anything!"

The items on the spy's list were checked off methodically, item after item landing in the cart with a quiet thud as the redhead maneuvered through the isles with tactical precision. The usual afternoon crowd began to fill the store, taking up the so-needed breathing space; Natasha's shopping trip wasn't a moment of leisure and with her neverending to-do list full, she hurried to the self-check-out register, flying through the motions mindlessly.

Scan, place, beep, boop, pay, load up the bags, make way to the car, load up and pedal to the metal.

Scratch that. No, scratch - Natasha's eyes bulged as she neared her shiny, brand new Charger, seeing the obvious defects even from a mile away: the paint, previously cherry red and gleaming in the sun, ruined by a series of thin, gray lines, standing out unpleasantly on the otherwise pristine vehicle.

And the culprit, who's tuft of hair peeked over the hood of the car on the other side of the Charger, almost fully hidden between her car and the large Chevrolet in the next parking spot over.

Natasha's fingers clenched around the handle of the cart as she fought the urge to reach for her knife safely holstered under her leather jacket. "Excuse me?" Tone quiet and deadly, the spy prepared herself to fight or at least slightly shake up the hooligan.

The figure froze, vaguely familiar clothing and a puffy, tear-stained face slowly rising from behind Natasha's car. "In my defense, he deserves it," the girl - Foxy - the one that was arguing in front of the store earlier, declared through a stream of angry tears. "Call the cops if you want, I don't care." It was unclear if the girl recognised her, the Black Widow, as she made no move to run for the hills, just pathetically sniffled, pocketing the keys she used to scratch Natasha's car.

"That's my car," The spy responded flatly, a great deal of amusement crawling into her face as Foxy's eyes bulged, jaw fell slack, horror plain and evident overshadowing the waterworks. Natasha quickly pieced two and two together but patiently waited for the initial shock to subside before popping a question. "A word of advice, if I may?"

Foxy nodded, dumbfounded, frantically scrambling for the contents of her pockets, searching for something with the agility of a panicking cat, more than half of the contents spilling out onto the ground.

Natasha unlocked the car, popping the trunk and loading in her bags as she raised her voice to be heard over the noise of a busy parking lot. "Don't mess with the paint, the insurance will cover it. Slash three tires - not four - or take a swing at the front bumper and the headlights," the trunk slid shut with a quiet click as the spy inspected the damages close-up. Her Charger looked like it was attacked by a pack of aggressive, feral cats with nails of steel. "And always check the number plates before committing acts of vandalism to make sure you're enacting revenge on the right person." The last part was said with a smirk.

As the spy stepped closer to Foxy, she noted the excessive puffiness of her cheeks and the shaking fingers that held a checkbook and a pen. The woman looked torn between terrified and apologetic, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I'm so, so sorry. Todd just got his new car, it's identical to yours and I didn't get the chance to memorize the number plate yet," the offending man's name was said with a pitiful growl. "How much?" She weakly motioned to the ruined bodywork.

"What'd he do?" Natasha didn't resist her curiousity, leaning against the driver's side door and sizing up the other woman. She was pretty, well-dressed and reasonably wealthy on the first sight. "Yeah, he looked like a Todd," The quip slipped from the redhead's lips as she remembered the man from earlier. Foxy looked way too good to be wasting her time on someone who looked like an adolescent that hadn't outgrown his skater boy phase.

Foxy chuckled shyly at Natasha's remark, smoothing a hand over her face. "Lord, where do I even begin..." The sigh was loud and long. "He lived in my apartment rent-free, made me give up my cat by lying about his allergies, went through nine low-wage jobs in two years, did nothing but play video games in his free time and developed a pot addiction, thus spending all his money on it," she began steadily but her tone grew in pitch with every added offence as Natasha's eyebrows climbed higher and higher. "My last straw was when he took out a loan he couldn't pay off to buy his brand new cool car," the words were spat out with venom. "I threw him out last Saturday. He's been following me around all the time," Foxy continued, growing dark in the face. "And then I found out he had been cheating on me for I don't know how long. I just... I just lost it," she finished pathetically, all but crumbling into a pile of human misery.

Natasha's face had frozen into mute disbelief somewhere around the first half of the story, repulsion and astonishment mixing into a flurry of quiet rage on the random woman's behalf. Menfolk were bizarre animals, and as much as the spy felt herself annoyed by her roommates at the tower, she couldn't help but feel relieved that the men surrounding her were far from douchebags of the casual variety. This Todd, however, was no amateur, and had done Foxy really, really dirty.

The redhead made up her mind rather quickly. "That's a lot to unpack," she carefully studied the micro-expressions on the other woman's face. "I have a couple of nice bottles of wine at my place and nobody to share them with. Care for a glass?"

Foxy's eyes widened once more. "I don't- I don't want to take up your time, I mean, I'm sure you've got more important shit to do, like save the world and y'know..." The stammering was followed by a shy look to the side.

So, Foxy had recognised her. And she didn't go running the other way like most people that encountered her in disadvantageous situations did. "I actually don't, I was just getting my shopping done for a lack of better things to do," Natasha lied seamlessly, motioning to the other side of the car. "Hop in." Mission reports and Barton's pizza date could wait.

The woman made quick way around, buckling into the seat in seconds, right before Natasha peeled off from the parking lot towards the Avengers tower at breathtaking speeds. The car was a gift from Tony - one of the rare things he managed to get right - and an absolute pleasure to drive.

"What's your name?" The redhead asked, juggling the steering and her smartphone effortlessly.

The woman rattled of her first and last name on between attempts to fix her runny make-up and wipe the dried snot and tears off her face. "Foxy is a nickname my gramps gave me, said I used to excessively play with fox pelts in the attic when I was a kid," the woman added with a snort, totally oblivious to Natasha's eyebrow raise as the spy read the information on her in-between overtaking slower cars.

Good student, good family life, stable income and good career growth in a prospective sector. What did Foxy even find in a guy like Todd? The most important information, however, was also most pleasing. No ties to any kind of intelligence gathering organizations.

As Natasha parked and popped the trunk once more, the other woman offered a hand with her shopping bags. Friday acknowledged the newcomer, startling her, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and mention, loudly, that if Tony decided to pay them a surprise visit, he may end up castrated or shot on sight, much to Foxy's bashful snickering.

Once the shopping was put away and the wine opened, the spy let herself curl up on the couch opposite the woman who studied her Spartan style apartment with curios eyes. The lack of knick knacks must've been a surprise for her: Natasha's apartment looked bare compared to what she'd seen in other's people's homes but the desire to make the environment more cozy had never been strong enough to actually act upon it. She wasn't used to staying in a place for very long.

"Do you still want to get back at the bastard?" The redhead asked once the first bottle was coming to an end. The alcohol was sitting low, pleasantly warm in their bellies and the food that they'd ordered in the middle of a casual chit-chat lulled them into a state of comfortable stupor.

"I want to gouge his eyes out and wear them as a battle trophy," Foxy was slightly slurring her words, much more affected by the wine than the stoic, experienced agent. "But I guess I can settle for petty crime or arson."

"I'm sensing you didn't tell me the whole list of grievances," true to her words, the spy felt as it there was a possibility quite a few things were being left unsaid.

Foxy sighed once again, placing the empty glass on the table and using her palm to prop her flushed face against it, blankly staring off into the far end of the room. "I came out as bisexual last year and he was giving me so much shit for it. Todd kept pushing for a threesome and when I refused, started accusing me of cheating during our fights, called me a whore a couple of times," the more she spoke, the higher Natasha's anger levels rose.

Not only was a Todd a dick, he was an abusive one. Truly, the grand prize of Asshat Lottery. "I have an idea or three," the spy twirled the remaining red liquid in her glass before downing it. "But it'll have to stay between us two."

"I'm listening," Foxy turned to meet Natasha's face, eyes considerably more alert than seconds before.

A few days past their amicable wine-and-revenge get-together, Natasha's doorbell rang as if she wasn't already had been made aware by Friday that a visitor was coming up to see her. Boxes of hair bleach and dye laid stacked on the living room table, surrounded by jewelry and assorted accessories. A pitcher of fresh sangria topped the ensemble, two clean glasses placed neatly on the tray next to it.

"Hi, Nat," Foxy's smile was a mile wide - a far cry from the sniffling sad sack of a woman the spy had first met. The nickname flowed freely from the woman's lips, as calm as Natasha's own answering grin and greeting. "I gots the stuff," waving her purse about, the woman kicked off her shoes by the door, approaching Natasha with the same smile that seemed to be more effective at lightening up the room than Tony's expensive designer lamps.

As Natasha's plan achieved a solid state, the two women had quickly come to a realization that Natasha was far too recognizable with her signature red hair and over a flurry of text messages, the decision to switch to a warm caramel blonde was made unanimously. Foxy had rebuked any and all Natasha's attempts to affirm she'd be able to do it herself and the spy gave into the other's chiding, relenting to have her hair dyed by a person who at least had a possibility of seeing the back of her head without having to perform acrobatic tricks.

Foxy was an easygoing, non-problematic person. She was fun to have around, quiet but witty, with intelligent eyes and a realistic view on the world. It was something Natasha valued, alongside the lack of probing questions regarding her past or her job - her insides clenched uncomfortably at the thought of having to lie about those things, or even worse, having to admit to the wrongdoings in her past, however Foxy carefully steered away from topics that were sensitive and never gave Natasha as much as a side-eye if the spy appeared to lack some minor detail that normal women her age all seemed to be aware of.

The curiosity had her ready to burst. Nat's natural defense mechanisms were quite confused, not sure what to make of the woman who almost too friendly to be true, but the kindness in her eyes and the sometimes shy, awestruck looks she gave Natasha when she thought the redhead wasn't looking made up for it in spades.

"What do you think?" The noise of the hair dryer finally ceased, Foxy's voice echoing in Natasha's luxuriously large bathroom.

The newly-blonde spy studied her reflection with a tilt to her head. The ombre was a nice touch - her own hair was naturally darker than the caramel and honey blonde she had chosen, so the almost-brown shading at her roots took much away from the contrast between her lighter hair and darker brows. It was just another disguise for the spy, but somehow, this one felt more like home than any of the previous faces she had worn.

"I like it, you were right about the ombre," Natasha voiced her thoughts, eyes sliding over to the smiling woman behind her, feeling the corners of her mouth begin to creep upwards in involuntary response.

"You looked good with red hair, don't misunderstand me," Foxy briefly raised her hands. "But you have a light complexion and lighter colors do wonders for bringing out the youthfulness. Even if we don't have much joy these days, a good hair color is an opportunity to showcase the bit," she briefly touched her own hair in an exaggerated attempt at driving her point home.

The fun part was done, the time came to execute the revenge. It wasn't exactly anything special; rather, the plan was quite simple - let Todd make a fool out of himself in front of his friends and perhaps (a slightly, teensy possibility) get himself arrested. The two women took their time to get dolled up, not too much - but rather, adding just that little bit to themselves to easily attract moderate amounts of attention from men.

The bar was busy, noisy and full of people when the two women stepped through the door. Natasha's eyes scanned the room out of habit, easily spotting the tall, lanky Todd in the far end of the bar, laughing and boozing with equally pathetic-looking man-children. The urge to gag was almost irresistible.

The spy let herself to be led to the bar by Foxy who looked mildly uncomfortable. Natasha was sure that if she was to touch the other woman's face, it would be flaming under the circumstances. "Try to relax a little, I won't bite," with a quip to her companion, Nat ordered them a vodka cranberry each, sitting down with her back to the men. "Tell me when he notices us and starts moving this way."

Foxy nodded minutely, clutching her drink for dear life and taking generous sips to calm herself down and relax like the spy had requested. They talked about everything and nothing in between, Natasha's hand on Foxy's knee crawling closer to her hip as minutes passed by without interruption. Loud noises of men playing darts and drunkenly cheering reached the womens earshot every now and then, causing Foxy to throw increasingly infuriated glances towards her ex-boyfriend and the Black Widow's current victim of choice.

Sitting opposite the perfectly composed, smiling woman, it was clear as day she was, indeed, best of the best. Despite knowing Foxy for only a few days, Natasha managed to pull off a very convincing girlfriend: her body language was nothing short of absolutely besotted and the googly eyes the spy was making had Foxy constantly remind herself that it was only for show. There was no way this gorgeous, incredible human would be interested in someone as plain and ordinary as herself.

"Heads up," Foxy's smile suddenly grew a mile wide as she stared directly at Natasha, eyes alight with fury at the scene about to unfold. Natasha's reply was to briefly tighten the grasp on the other's leg in silent support.

"Hey, baby," Todd was drunk enough for the stench of his breath to reach both women. "Oh, I see you're with a friend," his attempt at flirting only made Natasha scrunch up her face like a cat that accidentally smelled a lemon.

"Leave me alone," Foxy stated firmly, knowing the phrase wouldn't do anything to deter her overzealous ex, but this time - she counted on it.

"It's okay, I can share," the slurred words had a couple of people nearby raise their eyebrows at the audacity.

"I'm not interested," Foxy snapped. "In fact, there is absolutely nothing your freeloading, cheating ass can bring to my table."

The woman radiated satisfaction as gasps sounded out around them; Todd was a regular at this bar and most people there knew him in one way or another. The moment of joy, however, was brief.

"Listen, bitch, you have no business talking to me like that," full of drunken bravado, the man spat angrily, taking unsteady steps closer to Foxy. "What you need is a decent man that can handle your outbursts, not some dyke..." before he could even utter another offensive syllable, Natasha had his wildly gesturing arm twisted painfully behind his back, easily forcing the inebriated man to his knees.

"Wanna try that again, champ?" Sarcasm flowed freely from the spy's lips as the patrons in the bar gasped. The civilian clothing and the new hair color might have been an effective short-term disguise but once the crowd had seen her neat little party trick and had taken a good look at her face, nobody was doubting her identity. "Call the cops, will you?" She addressed the shocked bartender who immediately scrambled to obey.

"I didn't do anything!" Todd cried out, eyes drunkenly darting between the Black Widow's quiet rage and Foxy's grim stone face.

"Huh, that's weird. Because I clearly heard and saw an attempted hate crime," Natasha's voice attained a sardonic tint. "And I have a bar full of witnesses," the spy shrugged, letting go of his arm but keeping a boot firmly planted on his back to prevent him from escaping. "I hope you have a lawyer."

Foxy snorted, reaching for her unfinished second drink. "Tough luck."

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Todd's friends inching closer to the exit door second by second, as if they could stand a chance against a professionally trained secret agent. Luckily for them, Natasha wasn't interested in the remainder of Todd's gang of losers and merely raised an eyebrow when the other men reached the door, a tiny smirk appearing when his pleading eyes didn't cause any reaction in his friends, the spineless worms, hopping out of the door without as much as a goodbye to the man laying face-down on the dirty floor.

As soon as the police arrived, awestruck by one of the NYC's most famous superheroes just casually standing in a bar, they eagerly collected the inebriated offender, briskly escorting Todd to the squad car. The bartender and several other patrons confirmed Natasha's words that an attempted hate crime had taken place. Cops were in and out in less than fifteen minutes and the otherwise-pleasant hole-in-the-wall bar returned to its usual evening bustle.

"Celebratory shots?" Natasha laughed as Foxy exhaled, deep and slow, once her racing heart calmed down.

"My treat," the other woman motioned for the bartender and soon, a line of colorful glasses appeared in front of the women. Each downed a glass easily, slamming it back on the table. "Man, this is everything I never knew I needed," Foxy confessed with a shy smile. "Thanks, Nat. You're the best."

The spy responded with a satisfied smile, picking up another glass and holding it out for a toast. "To revenge well-deserved," the glass clicked, alcohol slid easily down their throats. "So, what now?"

Foxy's eyes shone in the bright lights of the bar, relieved and tipsy. The small empty glass twirled easily between her fingers. "Dunno," the shrug came and went. "Maybe go on vacation. To Florida."

Natasha let out a belly laugh, downing her last shot without as much as a stutter in her movements, Foxy's eyes lingering on the stray drops of alcohol running from the spy's plump lips. "A vacation with the crackheads? Romantic," the quip was received with an eyeroll from the other woman.

"Spoilsport," Foxy, too, finished her booze and placed the money and a hefty tip on the bar, tapping twice to get the bartender's attention. "I meant more like - lay on the beach, sip mimosas, look at sexy people in swimsuits..."

"Florida is for old people," Natasha objected, pulling her leather jacket back on and leading them both outside. The evening air was crisp, bringing a clearer head and re-arranging the thoughts back into a more sensible state.

Foxy easily picked up her pace to match Natasha's precise strides leading them in the direction of the former's building. The warm buzz of vodka coupled with the fresh air and her desire for retribution well-fed, Foxy settled into a comfortable silence next to the spy. They reached the building quickly, their pace brisk and distractions lacking.

"Care for a nightcap?" She didn't know what prompted her to blurt out the words; as soon as the words registered in her brain, they were already out and Foxy's face heated, fingers fumbling for the keys in her pocket, Natasha's touch still warm and lingering on the side of her leg.

The spy seemed amused, studying Foxy's nervous habits with a crooked smirk. "Sure," she agreed amicably, following the woman into the apartment building, not missing both the rigidity of her back and the added spring to her step.

A moderately sized, well-decorated apartment revealed itself behind the open door, scarcely illuminated by the NYC lights coming in from a glass wall in the living room, reflecting the vast living space furnished with a large couch.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Natasha turned around, stepping into the other woman's personal space with the grace of a predator. Two shining eyes stared back at her in the darkness, framed by fluttering lashes. Foxy's bottom lip disappeared behind her teeth, skin gleaming with perspiration.

The recently-turned blonde spy wasted no time caging the other woman between her body and the door, chests almost touching. The air around them was charged, Foxy's heart thudding loudly in her chest as she gulped. Natasha studied her expression, "You want this?" she whispered against her lips, sharing the oxygen between them.

"Ye-yeah," a short nod and a gasp later, the women were devouring each other, grasping at their hands and shoulders like they were drowning. Hot and wet and sharp from the booze, the kisses were as graceless as their fingers haste in removing each other's top layers of clothing.

The sharp corner of the living room archway dug painfully into Foxy's back, bringing an additional sense of awareness: this was real. This was happening. Natasha's blonde locks flowed through Foxy's fingers, soft and silky, a contrast to the teeth pulling on her lip in impatient hunger. Foxy grunted in response, parting from the other woman to send her t-shirt flying somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.

"Bedroom," mere minutes in and she already sounded utterly and throughly ruined.

"Couch," Natasha was equally feverish to get to the good parts. Her belt was unbuckled and the nice button-up she'd worn hung open, a plain white bra iriscendent on her alabaster skin.

Letting herself be led to the couch, Foxy could barely take her eyes off the woman in front of her, making sure she wasn't ogling Natasha outright yet secretly hoping to be caught anyway. The blonde was like a porcelain doll, unreal, firm and soft at the same time.

The moment Foxy gracelessly landed on the couch, Natasha was all up in her space, straddling the other woman with the grace of a savage cat; lips once more attached to her flesh, Natasha left a trail of hot, wet marks starting at the jawline and ending at the cups of Foxy's bra.

Not knowing what to do with her hands, Foxy grasped Natasha's hips, unable to hold back a moan heavy with lust as the spy ground down with her hips. It was exhilarating to see the other woman affected by their heavy make-out session; nothing short of absolutely smitten to see Natasha pull back, panting and disheveled, to shed her shirt and her bra.

Unable to resist the urge, Foxy's hands reached out to cup the spy's round breasts, tugging her closer to pop a rosy nipple into her mouth. Natasha shivered, arching into the caress, holding onto the other woman's hair and tugging it in the direction only she knew.

Natasha wasn't loud, she wasn't wild; her moans were more like muted gasps but her body spoke for her louder than any words: the grinding was getting more impatient, Natasha's hold grew stronger. As Foxy fumbled for the button of Nat's pants, she felt the soft, delicate lace underneath. Natasha had come prepared.

"Hold on," the spy mumbled, hopping off Foxy's lap to quickly push her pants and panties down her legs with practiced ease. The other woman followed suit, leaving herself to be bare besides her underwear, the attempt to remove them intercepted by Natasha. "Let me," quiet words tickled the skin of her throat where Nat had immediately attached her mouth.

Foxy scrambled to intake the oxygen she needed, letting herself feel the hot glide fully, having lost herself in pleasure, missing the exact moment Nat's fingertips breached the waistband of her panties. Soft and nimble, so different to a man's roughened skin, the sensation was as strange as it was sweet. The urge to arch and rock her hips against the nearest surface intensified and Foxy could only keen, quiet and high, causing Natasha to chuckle to herself.

"Enjoying yourself, sweet girl?" The miniscule trace of coyness seeped into the blonde's voice. The engorged, puffy, moist flesh of Foxy's lower lips parted eagerly to Natasha's experimental dip.

"Yeah, yes," the woman slid down, spreading her legs in invitation. "Please, touch me," begging to be filled in all the empty spaces, Foxy threw her head to rest against the back of the couch, watching Nat through unfocused eyes.

"Oh, I will," the spy purred, sliding lower to put her face next to Foxy's dripping cunt. The spy's fingers glistened with arousal and she popped them into her mouth, licking them clean before doing the same to her lover's swollen folds. The response was instantaneous and loud, Foxy shook under Natasha's expert teasing. "Stay still," she ordered quietly, patting Foxy's belly.

Molten, honeyed waves of bliss overtook common sense and awareness, tiny sparks shooting up Foxy's cunt every time Natasha suckled at her clit. The spy read her body like an open book, following the movements of her hips with her mouth, always a step ahead and slightly south. Foxy's peak was imminent, approaching rapidly, as Natasha's sweet merciless assault wrung every single drop of the thick, precious liquid out of her cunt.

It only seemed to gush more, the woman pushing her cunt into Natasha's face as the latter doubled down on her efforts to bring her to ecstasy.

The waves began deep in the pit of Foxy's stomach, making her legs tremble, her toes curl and the flutters of her cunt increase in speed and intensity. Silky soft and typhoon wet, her orgasm crashed her mind into million pieces and Nat dutifully extracted everything until the last drop with the skillful touch of her tongue and fingers.

"Tash," Foxy moaned. Her legs quivered at the slightest touch to her oversensitive cunt.

"Mhm," was the blonde's reply, contented humming getting closer and closer until the womens lips met once more in a fierce, passionate kiss.

Foxy's hands immediately sought purchase on Natasha's hips, searching for the spots that would make the spy's body song in the same way she'd done to Foxy; seemingly much more reserved, quiet but happy sighs broke past Nat's lips in response to gentle hands stroking where she was most sensitive.

"I've got a vibe in my bedroom," clarity finally broke through the orgasm haze, Foxy's brain slowly coming back to reality.

"No, I want your fingers," Natasha's reply was assertive as she moved her hips in tandem with Foxy's hand, dripping the sweetness of her around all over.

The urge to pop the fingers into her mouth was strong, so Foxy did just that, moaning at the tangy taste, Natasha's breath quietly stuttering at the sight in front of her.

"I want to eat you out," the words barely had left Foxy's mouth as Natasha flipped them so she was the one laying on the couch, spread-eagled and open for the other woman's eager mouth to explore. Wet, sloppy and so, so tender, Foxy let herself taste the arousal of her lover.

"Yeah," so soft, one could easily miss it, the approval didn't get lost in the headrush nonetheless. With grace, Foxy sought the spots that would force Natasha to break her silence with slow, broad motions until the blonde had no choice but to arch her hips into the sensations, chasing her pleasure, losing the aura of restraint she'd so carefully cultivated.

No time for self-control. The temperatures were climbing steadily with every single movement, both lost in their imperfect shared rhythm, the soft of Foxy's tongue and fingers like finest silks on Natasha's eager cunt. Two fingers slipped in without resistance, immediately seeking out the soft, spongy spot that made the blonde's toes curl and mouth open in a silent scream.

Foxy's free hand groped around for Natasha's ass hastily, bringing her hips closer to her mouth, tongue never ceasing its assault on the blonde's clit as her body grew more rigid, fingertips going white with the force she was gripping the comforter.

"Gospodi bozhe," came the mumble, the only warning before Natasha's powerful thighs locked Foxy in place as the blonde rode out her orgasm, violently shivering, dousing the other woman's face in her sweet release. Dutifully, Foxy stroked the silk of Natasha's skin everywhere she could reach, her hot breath on the blonde's pussy easing her back to Earth through the aftershocks.

Natasha's eyes opened, feeling her lover's look of adoration, and she cracked a reluctant but genuine smile. There was something about Foxy that was just so-

Natasha taglist (open, see fic hat for info; crossed out nicknames are the ones I couldn't tag, please update your info):

@mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @sapphicnoodle69

[fieldbears]

It seems like you know a lot about skin care. I'm 28 now and honestly dont really bother with it (except to take off make up and using sunscreen). I'm 28 now and feel like my skin's fine but wonder if there's stuff it actually needs. With skincare being such a huge industry it's hard to understand what ingredients skin actually needs bc I feel companies (& influencers) try to sell you a lot of shit you don't need and maybe even makes your skin worse. Any tips where to start? Thank u

Hey friend! I love helping newbies. I absolutely do have tips. And a two-product two-step regimen. You can get it for under $40 and it should last you 6 months or more.

First off, there is ABSOLUTELY a ton of shit you don’t need. That is a good instinct. You can always pay more for a product and you can always add more steps to your routine, but that doesn’t mean that you’re actually getting more out of it. The first thing you should ask yourself is, what do you want out of your skincare?

SUNSCREEN: For someone who isn’t sure what they want or what they should do, my first question is how much time you spend in the sun. The one thing you can do to really permanently damage your skin is to spend a lot of time in the sun without any sunscreen. Basically: blah blah rays of sun blah blah destroys the collagen, aka squishy bouncy bonds between cells, blah blah, destroyed collagen means the skin sags more, meaning wrinkles.

(It is also, I hope I don’t need to say, dangerous for Cancer Reasons to get a ton of non-screened sun exposure. But I’m assuming that’s a given here.)

Like I said in the last post, southeast Asian sunscreen options are a huge improvement on what you find on the shelves here in the States because they have more stringent laws on what chemicals are okay to put in a product. But if you stick with what you can grab at CVS, that’s fine too - just make sure you google the brand and type and make sure the SPF is for real. (Some products marketed at, say, SPF 45 are actually proven to only be SPF 15. It’s like the olive oil bullshit all over again!)

There are also a lot of moisturizers available with SPF protection in them.

WHICH LEADS ME TO MY AMAZING TWO-STEP SYSTEMMMMM...

CLEANSE AND MOISTURIZE: There are seven-step processes out there, but what you really need to start with, and will get a ton out of if you aren’t doing anything right now, is cleansing and moisturizing.

The science explanation for doing this: blah blah your skin generates oils from your pores in order to create a protective barrier between your flesh and the elements, but said oils can get gunky once they’ve accumulated all the particulates from the air, and there can even be backups and miscommunications and over-oilage if you have dead skin cells sitting on top of your new skin, or stuff gets all the way into your pores, blocking the system, causing breakouts. So skincare is about removing everything on top of your skin, maybe adding fancy stuff in the middle, but absolutely creating a new barrier for your skin at the end, to replace the one you took off. I liken it to varnish on a painting - it’s meant to sit on top, collect all the dust, and get removed and replaced over time. But don’t just wash your face every 20-80 years. The metaphor only goes so far. Anyway.

Here is how to get into my absolutely bare minimum regimen:

PICK A CLEANSER: If you wear/remove makeup a lot, and/or have a very oily complexion, pick an oil-based cleanser. Oil-based means it’s good at removing makeuppy things  and your natural oil. Otherwise, pick a water-based cleanser. CeraVe cleansers are available at Walgreens and they are affordable. It is available, affordable, clinically gentle on various skin types, and by god, it does indeed wash all the shit off your face.I have tried a lot of expensive water-based cleansers and I still come back to this one. That $16 pump bottle will last you a long time, too.

PICK A MOISTURIZER:  I’m back on my CeraVe shit here because if you’re overwhelmed and don’t know what to pick, I’m gonna push you to the easy-to-pay-for, easy-to-find product that won’t make you break out. And it’s got SPF! If you want to get fancier, check out some options here. I currently use Laneige moisturizers, which are at Sephora and... other places. Idk. (And to repeat my last post: if you can’t stand having things sitting on your skin, even a moisturizer that will absorb over a minute or so, Laneige Cream Skin Toner & Moisturizer essentially feels like water.)

SHOWER STEP: You have both your products. Now. Put your cleanser in your shower. When you shower, use it to wash your face. In the shower, you can splash and splash to your heart’s content. Get your neck, your cleavage, any extra places you feel have an oiliness problem. But remember them for later, because you want to moisturize all spots you cleansed. (Also, if you’ve been using soap or anything else to wash your face up until now... stop that. Cleanser is much better.)

AFTER SHOWER STEP: Dry off and pat on that moisturizer. Make sure you apply it with clean hands. Rub it in gently and make sure all cleansed areas are now moisturized.

That’s it.

No, really, that’s my advice for beginners. Two products, one done in the shower. You have to do them in order. That’s it.

If you have the spoons to do this routine twice a day, around when you get up and right before bed, you’ll get even better results. But if you’re just starting out and get anxious about new routines, don’t sweat it. Your face’s cells turn over every 30 days or so, so if you keep this up every day for about two weeks, you’ll start seeing improvements by then.

Bonus newb tips:

About once a week, use a COMPLETELY CLEAN terrycloth washcloth to apply your cleanser. Get your (gentle) scrub on. Mechanical exfoliation basically means you’re using a brush, a cloth, something physical to remove everything from your face, including things like dead skin, which gentle cleansing may not have gotten. Doing it too often isn’t helpful, as you can only build up so much stuff to remove over time, and scrubbing too hard or too frequently can lead to frightening your skin, causing redness. So once a week is likely plenty. If you like the battery-operated brushes, go for it, but they cost way more than the clean washcloth.

You will see options for chemical exfoliation too. If you identify as a newb, I don’t recommend this. Chemical exfoliations aren’t bad per se, but are one of the few skincare things that can be done wrong, and in a way that can really upset your skin. Washcloth!

Are you replacing your pillowcases on a regular basis? I try to do once a week but I probably end up with closer to two weeks. Nobody’s perfect. But remembering to do this is a very easy way to help your skin out.

If you get your cleanse-and-moisturize routine down pat, 2x a day, and you want the next step, look into toners. They help your skin absorb the moisturizer more efficiently... science reasons. The toner goes on before the moisturizer, but again, your skin should be dry before you start.

There are ampoules, essences, treatments, and other fancy names for... very specific shit. Basically, if you have a specific problem, especially in a specific area of your face, chances are there is a specific tiny expensive bottle you can integrate into the middle of your routine to help with that. But there is a lot of snake oil out there and I don’t want anybody buying these solutions if they aren’t already managing the daily wash-and-protect, because you’d be surprised how many things that can fix.

If you have problems with breakouts or other bad reactions to some skin products, do your best to only introduce one new product at a time. That way if you start having a reaction, you don’t have to guess what caused it.

No matter what is or isn’t going on with your skin, your worth is not affected one iota. Whether I have three pimples and incredible redness around my cheekbone and nose area, making me look like a character mug of a drunken sailor, or whether or my skin is the cool, poreless ivory of Grecian marble, I am still the exact same perfect bitch. And so are you.