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[puleosauto]

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[expresscareautomn]

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[autoandfleetmechanic]

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[satorusugurugurl]

The Single Dad Club! (Chapter Two:Geto)

Summary: The Single Dad club consisted of Grto Suguru, Gojo Satoru and Nanami Kento! But with summer upon them, the men find themselves ladies who are willing to have them leave their self-appointed club!

Pairing: Geto Suguru x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,388

Warning: smut, language, fingering, library smut, public smut, fingering, pin in V smut, unprotected sex, creampie, choking, voyeurism, exhibitionism

A/N: Here’ part two of my Single Dad Club Summer Series! Library smuuut yesss! One part left!! 💚

Part One Part Three

Geto grimaced as he exited the car, opening the back door for his daughters. They excitedly jumped out, running towards the library where Gojo was waiting. The summer sun was scorching, beating down on Suguru as sweat beaded on his forehead. He could not wait to get inside, and it wasn’t for the sweet, cool air conditioner.

It was because of you, the stunning librarian who worked there.

You were beautiful, smiling and grinning as you read to the children. You were always calm and patient when helping people search for books with descriptions alone. The kindness and compassion in your soul was one he only thought existed in fairytales, like a maiden or a princess. That might be why he nicknamed you that.

Gojo tapped his foot impatiently as the girls hugged Tsumiki. “Could you walk any slower, Suguru? I’m melting over here!” He downed some of his cola, gasping softly as he did.

“I could stop to admire the flowers if you’d like?” Suguru’s eyes are smug as he watches his best friend groan as he throws his head back.

“Please don’t; I’ll die of heat stroke if you do.”

Suguru laughs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Where’s Nanami?” A soured look crossed Satoru’s face.

“Already inside with his little mermaid.”

“You should be happy for him. He’s happy with her.”

“Yeah, I'm so happy that the Single Dad Club is down to two members. Does that even make us a club anymore?”

The two walked through the sliding doors and were immediately blasted with cold air. The chill against Suguru’s skin had him sigh in relief as he put all the books back into the return bin before heading through the other sliding door, where the smell of books old and new welcomed him. The silent library wasn’t bustling, which made sense since it was the summertime and many families were on vacation. The Single Dad club made it a point to stop by the library once a week to get books for the children to read so they weren’t glued to their screens.

It had nothing to do with Suguru seeing you in a pretty strawberry dress a few weeks ago when they were getting the children’s summer reading books. He didn’t use you as an excuse to come every week, building a friendship with you until he dared to ask you out. Yeah, no, totally not because of that. (It was)

Geto’s eyes roamed through the different aisles of book-filled shelves, searching for you in one of your dresses or bright colors of skirts. And he found you in no time. He was standing on one of the ladders, reaching for a book on the top shelf. Today, you were sporting a white dress with blue anchors all over it, along with a sky-blue cardigan. Your hair was styled perfectly, and your big round reading glasses were sliding down the bridge of your nose.

Suguru smiled, turning down the aisle you were working on and watching as you added the book to a large stack you were holding. It took some real skill to carry that many books so elegantly. Suguru rushed forward, gently holding the ladder as you descended the wooden steps.

With the sudden heat next to your body, you look up, meeting with dark eyes. Who is the single dad you have had your eyes on for the last few weeks? He was handsome and intellectual. If he didn’t get to ask you out, you would have to do it yourself.

“Geto.” You made sure there was a hint of flirtatious intent in your voice. “Is it Tuesday already?”

“It most definitely is my favorite day of the week.”

“Your favorite day of the week, huh?”

You stroll past him, heading towards your desk in the middle of the library. He followed close behind, the earthy smell of mint following him. You’ve tried not to come too eager; you wanted him to work for it slightly. But the fact that he was following you to your desk like a lost puppy, you know you had him wrapped around your finger.

Suguru the stack of books down to your left before sitting back in your rolling chair. “It’s the day of the week I get to see you.”

“You know I have life outside of the library.” you shuffled through some papers on your desk.

“Oh, do you?”

“I do~”

Your voice had a certain boldness as you flirted back with the man you had been wanting since he stepped inside your library weeks ago. You had never been the assertive one, but you decided when you saw his gorgeous long black hair that you would be assertive this time. If you continue to do what you want, you will be alone forever, becoming that stereotypical librarian in movies and TV shows.

“Hmm, well, I just so happen to have quite a bit of free time right now. I just got back from a major dig, and I’m waiting for clearance to start studying what we found.”

“What do you do again?”

Suguru chuckled, pulling his wallet out and handing you a card. “I’m an archaeologist at the University of Tokyo. I go on digs here, there, everywhere.” You took his card in your hand, rubbing your thumb over his name nicely printed in ink.

“So that explains all the ancient cities and dinosaur books you check out, Professor Geto.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“So, Professor, seeing we both have free time, could I ask you for dinner?”

Bold and to the point, Suguru didn’t think it would be possible to like you more than he did. But lo and behold, his heart skipped a beat at your words. You were the kind of woman to take what you wanted, even if that meant you had to be the one taking the reins for a moment.

While you seem calm and collected on the outside, on the inside, every nerve of your being was on fire and freaking out. You had just asked the hottest man you had ever seen in your entire life to dinner. This wasn't like you at all. You usually were shy and waited for someone to ask you out. But you didn't want to wait for someone else to ask Suguru out. You had to be assertive. And from how Suguru was smirking, his pierced tongue swooping at his upper lip, he must have liked your question.

“How does Saturday sound to you? My girls are going to a pizza parlor and arcade with some of my friend's kids.”

“You mean the members of your single dad club?”

“Well,” he glanced over his shoulder towards the children's section, where he spotted Nanami talking to Gojo as his new girlfriend read to the children at their feet. “We just so happened to lose one of our members just recently. So I don’t think we could qualify as a club anymore.”

“Is that so?” you glance at the group., smirking slightly. “Could he even run a club with a singular member?”

With a blink, Suguru turned to look down at you with dark bangs falling over his eyes. “Singular? There are two of us still in his club.” You run manicured nails slowly down his chest.

“Hopefully, you won’t be single much longer if our date goes well.” there you go again with your assertiveness! Making Suguru snicker with apparent amusement as he peered down at you.

“Princess, you are something else.”

Which was not a bad thing at all. It only intrigued Suguru to get to know you more personally. There was just something about you that pulled him in, and he wasn’t going to fight against it anymore. If Nanami could meet such a lovely partner and seem happier for the first time in years, he should be able to do the same.

“There is nothing wrong with being optimistic about what could happen for us in the future.” with your heart, you waved his card in front of his face. “So Saturday, you could pick me up after work. I get off at four.”

“Four sounds like a good time. I’ll pick you up here at the library. Is that okay?”

“That works out great; we can just head to a restaurant afterward.”

Suguru hadn’t been this excited in years for a date. He found himself beaming with excitement as he walked back to the group. Nanami was oblivious, paying more attention to his little girlfriend who was talking to Yuuji, but Satoru, his best friend, saw the expression on his face. It was the same giddy smile that Nanami was constantly wearing.

“No, oh god.” Satoru pushed his sunglasses up, Brushing his bangs back against his head. “Not you, too!” The pout on his face draws his girls' attention as they look between the two men.

“What happened?”

“Oh, I just got asked out on a date.”

Satoru scrunched his face in disgust while Nanako and Mimiko lit up, eyes sparkling as their heads darted towards you, and you checked out some books for a family. Their little smiles and excited glances between you and their father gave Suguru the strange indication that this was something they had been hoping for. His girls adored you, and with every passing Tuesday, he found himself adoring you more and more.

His dark eyes followed his daughters as he watched you up some of your hair behind your ear, scanning several books, ignoring the angry whispers that resonated from his best friend. Something about how now he was the only single one between the three, life wasn’t fair, yada yada. Nothing else mattered except watching you and that beautiful anchor dress going about your mundane tasks.

You were stunning, and he couldn’t wait for Saturday.

It seemed like it took forever for your highly anticipated day to come around finally. You found your eyes glued to the clock with every passing second, counting down the hours until it was four. Saturdays were reasonably busy at the library, but since it was summer, it was dead. There was no one walking the rows of bookcases. You found yourself bored, tapping your nails against the counter, waiting for someone or anything to happen.

Much to display, nothing of that sort happened; Suguru didn’t come rushing in like you had imagined countless times before. He didn’t throw all the books off your desk and take you there for your moans to bounce off the large echoing walls. Your daydreaming left you feeling horny and needy, not the way you wanted to spend your Saturday, especially when you had a date later. How were you going to be able to focus on Suguru when your panties were soaked?

“Fuuck,” you grumbled as you flipped through the returned books on your desk to distract yourself. Nothing other than fantasizing about getting railed didn't make this day faster. “Hurry up.” you scolded the clock on the wall. These next thirty minutes would be the longest thirty minutes of your existence.

Instead of standing around doing absolutely nothing, you decided to put the most recent returned books away. Heading down the aisles of bookcases, trail your fingers over the spines, looking for the missing places where the books you currently held belonged. With each step you took, you felt like eyes were on you. Watching you from a distance, taking you in, you stood on your tiptoes, sliding a book into place.

The lingering gaze didn’t leave you feeling unsettled. Instead, it had your heart palpitating, heat, pulling between your legs. If you weren’t able to smell the earthy, minty scent that followed you through the library, you might have been freaked out. But instead, you found yourself strutting forward, swaying your hips as the smell of the person following you strengthened. In a way, having him follow you like this in a public place was erotic in its way.

You had read plenty of smutty romance books; this was a trope that you liked. The hero follows the heroine. He kept a watchful eye on her. And if it was written well enough and never came off as creepy. If anything, it was almost romantic.

Unfortunately, neither of those options could describe the current emotions and sensations you were feeling.

It wasn’t a romantic gesture (yet), and being followed like this by him didn't give you the creeps. Instead, it did the opposite. You found yourself walking as seductively as you could, perking your ass up as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to draw him out from wherever he was watching you. Oh, and Suguru was watching from the other aisle, grinning as you glanced over your shoulder and in his direction. You couldn't see him but could feel him watching you closely.

“Hey~ if you're not too busy watching me, maybe you could come around here and give me a hand? I don’t have a stepladder, and I need to put this book on a shelf that's too high for me to reach.”

“Mmm, are you sure you need my help? Or do you want me to come out of my hiding place?” the walls and shelves made it almost impossible for you to pinpoint where he was hiding.

“Maybe both. But I’m more inclined to the second option.”

Suguru laughed near you, and you heard his shoes against the floor. “And what exactly do you have planned for me when I leave my hiding place?” Glancing at your watch, you confirmed that you were still on the clock for the next ten minutes.

“Oh~ I have a few ideas.”

“What ideas are those, Princess?”

“To have you put this book back on the shelf, I can't reach.”

A deep, gravelly chuckle sounds from behind you before footsteps tread over the marble flooring. With each step, you felt your knees growing weaker, your eyes darting to either end of the aisle you were in before the black shadow stretched out over the floor. Following it, you find Suguru standing before you with his hand shoved into his pockets.

He looks so handsome, hair tied up in his signature half-up, half-down style, and his bangs move as he tilts his head to the side. Suguru’s dark gray button-down shirt is tucked into his pants, his black blazer is draped over his shoulder, and his pointer finger is hooked around the collar. Dark eyes focus on the book you’re trying to put away, and he notes how you barely try to reach it.

“Oooh, so you need my help?”

“Yes, please.”

Thanks to his long legs, it doesn’t take long for Suguru to close the distance between you. You feel him get behind you, pressing his body against yours as he so gently takes the book out of your hand. But he doesn’t simply put the book where it goes and step away from you. No, he presses himself fully against your back, gently shoving you against the bookcase, breasts pressing up against the shelves as he reaches slowly up to return the book to its rightful place.

Suguru notices the hitch in your breath and how every muscle in your shoulder seems tense as he presses harder against you. You can feel everything he has to offer: his toned muscles, the sultry laugh that escapes him, and the erection that's starting to grow within the confines of his pants. It leaves a little to the imagination from the mirror size of his packing. Feeling his twitching cock against the curve of your ass had you shutting your eyes tight as you resisted the urge to rock back against, to grind against that thick, hard cock.

Even though you try to play it cool, your body fails to get the memo. Your trembling legs and flushed skin were a dead giveaway that you were insanely aroused. Suguru isn't doing much better. You can feel his hot breath fanning against the nape of your neck as he slides the book slowly into place. Even when the task is done, he doesn't move. Neither of you dare to move an inch.

“So tell me, princess, is there anything else I can help you with?” He rules his hips slowly against the fat of your ass to emphasize his question. “Or would you prefer for us to go to dinner?”

“Fuck.”

“Huh? What was that Princess? I didn’t quite catch that.” He rolls his hips harder against you, angling them an inch and teasing your clothed cunt.

Your pretty navy blue sun dress, covered in white and pink flowers, rides up. “I said ‘fuck’” Giving in to your urges, you rock back against him, drawing out a grunt from the man behind you. “As in fuck that feels good, fuck you're so hot, and fuck, I want you to fuck me.” It happens so fast that you can barely process what’s going on.

Suguru grabs your hips, pulling you back enough for your ass to stick out while you press your hands against the bookcase. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, moaning as Suguru groped your ass. Your skin is so soft and warm; feeling it against his bare hand makes his cock throb harder. The tension between you is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

All of your fantasies from the long day were finally coming true. Feeling this gorgeous man you had been pining after for months, grabbing your ass, pulling you back, and making you move the way he wanted, was all you had been wanting. You were soaking wet, so goddamn wet for this handsome man. As soft whimpers flowed through your mouth, Suguru was entranced by your skin. It's beautiful and so smooth. He admired how well your pretty little sundress complimented your skin and how stunning you looked bent over like this for him. God, he was going to fuck you so good you forgot your name.

“You're okay with this?” Suguru asked, his fingers inching towards your panties, his index finger slowly rubbing circles over the wet spot on them.

“I just asked you to fuck me~ yes, I'm okay with this.”

“Mmm, just wanna make sure baby.” Long fingers tugged your panties to the side before Suguru slowly began rubbing his thumb over your clit in slow circles.

“Ah~ yes fuck—”

His thumb slowly flicked your sensitive bundle of nerves. “We're going things a bit out of order tonight.” Fingers dipped down, collecting some of your slick arousal before returning to his gentle strokes. “But I hope you know I thoroughly plan on fucking you again after I take you out on a property date.” Your legs shook under his constant movements and dirty words. God, it was getting hard to breathe as more moans began to rise in your throat.

“I-I would be disappointed if you didn't.”

“Oh well, we can't have any of that—” his middle and index finger slid deep inside your cunt, drawing out a loud moan from you. “Can we?”

“Haaah~ fuck—!”

“Yeah, does that feel good?” Suguru watched with a seductive smile as you nodded, words failing to articulate on your tongue. “Your pussy is squeezing my fingers like it feels really good~.”

Your hands press harder against the worn spines of the books as you try to look back at Suguru, only every time you try, his fingers just so happen to brush over your g-spot. The pleasurable shocks made it impossible for you to form human words. Seeing your eyes rolling back, as your bottom lips turning a darker shade from how hard you were biting it, only made Suguru plunge his fingers in and out of you faster.

With buckling knees, you cried out softly, the growing tremors of your orgasm rocking through you. An orgasm that was going to leave you a mushy piece of jello. The pressure just kept growing and building, the lid about to pop off when Sughru quickly retracted his fingers out of your soaking cunt. Feeling the loss of his fingers was not what you had been wanting, but before you could even begin to protest, you listened to a belt being unbuckled behind you.

Without the constant salt of his fingers against your weak spot, you were finally able to glance over your shoulder at him. Suguru was a flushed mess; lips were slightly parted, and his eyes were narrowed, focusing on the small of your back before they glanced towards your gaze. He looked absolutely feral, like a starved man sitting before a feast.

You watched closely as he unfastened his pants before pulling his girthy cock out. Suguru jerked himself with a few strokes before grinding it slowly over your wet folds, the tip teasing your clit before he pulled back to press against your entrance before going back towards your clit. It was an agonizing pattern with you hissing under your breath in frustration.

“Geto, please don't tease me.”

“Oooh, but it's so fun watching you squirm.” His long dark hair fell over her shoulder as he bent down, pressing kisses against your shoulder. “Seeing you fall apart so easily makes me want to tease you even more, Princess.”

“N-No, please don't.”

“No?”

“I need you, please, Geto.”

"It's Suguru." He said grabbing your hair tugging on it. "When I'm balls fuckin' deep inside your tight fucking pussy, it's Suguru." He bit down on your earlobe. "Not Geto, not Professor, Suguru."

Without having to be asked a third time, you felt him press the head of his cock past the tight ring of muscles of your entrance. His fast tip stole your breath away as your eyes widened, nails digging into the shelf before you. Suguru slowly inched himself further inside of you, inch by inch, until his raw cock was entirely inside of you.

You were moaning softly as he started thrusting into you with no warning.“Fu-Fuck! A-Ah!, I like the s-sound of that, Suguru! I like this~ fuck! I like you!”

“Mmm, I like you too." He continued to finger fuck you as he pressed his chest against your back. "You also like the thrill, huh?" He angled his hips, pushing against the head of his cock against your g-spot. "Do you like the idea of someone walking in here? Seeing the cute librarian getting fucked?” He nipped at the shell of her ear?

You cried out louder, feeling his cock pushing deeper as he tucked into you at a gentle pace. "Yes~ I love the idea of getting caught with you~"

"Me too." He released the grip on your hair freeing his hand to slap your ass. "Naughty fucking slut." He spread your cheeks, watching his cock slide in and out of your count, a ring of your combined pre-cum forming around his base. "Wanting me to fuck you before I can take you out properly."

“I-I needed you!” His cock is sliding in and out of your gummy walls, brushing over every sweet spot inside of you. He rocks into you and slams into you harder, making the bookcase you're pressing against shake in protest over the force of his thrusts. You keened, whimpering as he rammed into your cervix. "I’ve wanted this so bad, Sugu~~ fuck me; use me like a toy, please!!”

"A toy? Oh fuck no, baby, you're my Princess." His hand roughly moved your back as he wrapped his long, calloused fingers around your neck. Every nerve in your body trembled as he wrapped his hand around your throat. "You’re not a toy, and you never will be.” His fingers tightened around your throat, cutting off your air just a bit.

Your eyes rolled back, your moans becoming higher pitched as he choked you. "Oh god, yes! Suguru!! Sugu, I want to be your Princess; I promise I'll be good to you and do anything to be a good girl!!” Suguru mewled, squeezing tighter as you dropped your hand between your thighs, rubbing fast circles around your clit.

“Baby~ you’re already perfect~ god, I’m going to treat you so good~ fuck!”

"Y-Yeah! M-Me too—me too! I-I’m going to be the best partner." You cried out, turning to try and kiss him, to which he caught your lips in a heated one. "F-Fuck Sugu~ you feel s-so fucking good."

“So do you~ so wet and tight for me~ gonna make me cum~.”

“Y-Yes! Please cum~! I want to cum with you! Please~! Please~!”

Upon hearing your request, Suguru started slamming harder into you. "Alright, babe, cum with me~ cum on my cock." He growled, realizing your throat, dropping both his hands to your hips fucking into you with all his strength. "Cum for me, cum for me, Princess~!" He gritted his teeth before blowing his load, hot cum spurting inside of you.

“O-oooh fuck!” It was the feeling of his orgasm that pulled you over the edge of yours. You screamed as you came, hard gushing around him, rocking back as he panted heavily behind you.

By the time the orgasmic waves finally stopped pulsing through you both, you were both on the ground, his arms wrapped around you as he regained your breathing. He watched as the rays of sunlight highlighted your pretty features as you slowly regained your senses. Only once your breathing was regulated and your eyes were focused again did he gently cup your face, kissing you so softly that it had you melting into his body.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Suguru whispered as he rested his chin on your head. His hands gently rubbed your back as he tried to get the feeling to return to his legs.

“Probably as long as I have.” You snuggle your face into his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent, and he chuckles softly. “Every Tuesday, I hoped you’d ask me out.”

“Mmm, I was going to, but you beat me to it.” He kissed your forehead, smiling. “I’m glad you did.”

“I am, too.”

Suguru couldn’t help but shut his eyes, relishing the warmth of your body against his. Being with you always made his day; my Tuesdays have been his favorite days of the week. But now that you were wrapped in his arms, and we’re about to go on your actual date Suguru knew in his heart, every day he would spend with you would be his favorite day.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

[radiosteve]

Casual

Summary: When did being friends with benefits with Steve Harrington get so complicated? Probably when your "no strings attached" relationship suddenly had strings.

Note: Loosely based on the song Casual by Chappell Roan. I slowly wrote this over the past month or so which is why it took so long. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, No use of y/n, language, friends with benefits to lovers, smut, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), angst, jealousy.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader

Word count: 11.3k+

Knee deep in the passenger seat

The buzz of the evening air filled the car, prickling your skin with each passing second. Or maybe that was the A/C that Steve had on full blast, cooling the cramped car to an uncomfortable degree. Without a second thought, you reached forward, fingers finding the dial that would alleviate the shivers raking your body. But Steve’s hand shot out, swatting away your futile attempts to not freeze to death in the passenger seat.

“What the hell, Steve?” you shot him a glare, crossing your arms over your chest and unknowingly pushing up your breasts in the process, drawing Steve’s not-so-subtle gaze. In all honesty, Steve was cold too. Sure, it was summer in Hawkins and the sweltering heat and humidity bogged down the heavy air, but his car was a cool 66°F. 

“I’m sweating over here, sweetheart,” Steve shrugged, placing his hand back on the steering wheel. He was lying of course, but he couldn’t tell you that he wanted the A/C on so he could continue to catch glimpses of your pebbled nipples poking against the thin fabric of your tank top. He especially couldn’t say that because Eddie and Robin were in the backseat, a fact he had entirely forgotten until their muffled conversation rose dramatically in volume.

“And then they found that old guy’s fucking bones,” Eddie practically shouted with excitement, and your brow furrowed. Robin echoed Eddie’s statement, sharing the same elation regarding their conversation topic, which only confused you more. You turned in your seat, curious to know what the hell you had missed between them during your battle with Steve and the air conditioner. But then the car jerked to the left entering Forest Hills trailer park, and you knew you’d never find out.

The car halted in front of Eddie’s trailer, causing your body to jerk forward at the sudden stop. You let out a groan in response and were met with Steve’s cruel cackle. Meanwhile, Eddie tumbled out of the backseat into his front lawn and Robin followed suit on the other side.

“Wait, Rob,” you called, quickly rolling your window down so she could actually hear you. “I thought we were dropping you off?”

“Change of plans. I promised Max that we’d go through her comic collection so I’m just gonna crash at her place tonight,” Robin pointed over her shoulder and you spotted the mess of fiery red hair watching from the window. You nodded and exchanged a quick goodbye as Robin strolled over to Max’s front door. You watched her retreating figure, but it was soon blocked by Eddie ripping the passenger door open and hastily grabbing your cheek before placing a sloppy kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Dude,” you wiped your lips with the back of your hand, trying to rid yourself of any trace of Eddie’s saliva. Eddie’s eyes flickered over your shoulder to land on Steve. He watched the fire ignite in Steve’s eyes, the flames encasing his pupils at the stretch of Eddie’s smirk.

“C’mon, princess. You know you want me,” Eddie winked at you and you pushed him away from the car with a laugh. He stumbled back a few steps, regaining his balance as you pulled the car door shut. 

“In your dreams, Munson,” you shot him a smile as Steve began driving off, leaving Eddie to watch as the car pulled away. He stood content, knowing he’d accomplished his mission to rile Steve up. You rolled up the window and turned to Steve, expecting his expression to reflect the amusement you felt as a result of Eddie’s antics. 

But Steve, ever so unpredictable, had never been one to conform to your expectations before. His face appeared hardened, like it was set in stone as his white knuckles gripped the steering wheel tightly. He kept his gaze on the road as if he was incapable of looking elsewhere, particularly at you.

The silence grew heavy within the car, only elevating the tension that blossomed seemingly out of nowhere. Steve was driving too fast and you wanted to tell him to slow down but he spoke before you could.

“You like it when Munson kisses you?” his tone was harsh and cold like you were his worst enemy rather than his friend of many years. But you’d known Steve long enough to understand where this was coming from. He was jealous, though he’d never ever admit it, not to himself and most certainly not to you. Despite his insistence to keep things casual between you and him, he was quite good at blurring the line.

“Steve, I’d hardly call that a kiss,” you scoffed, already knowing that this was an argument in the making. Steve was silent, knots forming in his tensed shoulders as he continued driving. “And what does it matter? You made out with Stacy Townsend last week. It's not like we're dating, Steve,” you huffed and the car quickly turned off the main road into a shaded grove, away from any prying eyes. 

Steve practically threw the car in park and unbuckled his seatbelt so quickly you could’ve gotten whiplash. He exited the car, rounding the back and appearing at your door before you could even turn in your seat to track his motion. Steve tore the door open, leaning down and reaching between your legs. Your breath stopped at the feeling of his arm brushing against your thighs, but you quickly realized he was simply adjusting the seat to push it all the way back.

“What are you-” you began but quickly stopped as Steve occupied the space in front of you. His knees rested on the carpeted floor of his car as his back brushed against the glove box. There was enough room for him to comfortably rest between your open legs as he swung the door shut, trapping you in the confines of his presence.

“Is he a good kisser?” Steve asked, the traces of jealousy still ever so present in his tone, but there was something else too. Something deeper and more lustful that almost helped to outweigh the annoyance you felt in the moments prior. You knew to play along, follow Steve’s prompts, and adapt to the scenario.

“He’s pretty good, Stevie. Might want to kiss him again,” you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding and you watched Steve’s gaze trace over you. He once again found the outline of your peaked nipples, teasing him in the car’s cool atmosphere. Steve couldn’t help himself, letting his fingers trail up your chest, tracing over your nipples once he finally reached them.

“Is he better than me?” Steve asked, relishing in the soft sign that escaped you at the brush of his fingers over your clothed skin. He knew your body like the back of his hand at this point, giving him some control over you.

“He might be,” you refused to give in, knowing Steve would give you what you want regardless. But Steve understood you in the same way that you did him, and he expected that you’d play hard to get, which only made it more fun for him. One of his hands dropped, reaching for the hem of your tank top and pulling it up above your breasts, leaving them on display for him. 

Steve resumed his teasing to your left nipple, gently circling it with his thumb. He leaned in slowly, keeping his eyes locked with yours as his lips met your breast, placing slow open-mouthed kisses on your soft flesh. After leaving a few marks he brought his mouth to your nipple, gently pecking it with his soft lips before placing a bruising kiss on it in a way that made you gasp in pleasure.

“Fuck,” you moaned as Steve’s teeth grazed your sensitive skin. His eyes never left yours, drinking in the sight of you slowly unraveling at the feel of his lips. Steve trailed his kisses lower, expanding over your torso and down to the waistband of your skirt.

His hands caressed your thighs, parting them even wider than before while he hiked your skirt up your hips. The lace of your panties now sat exposed to Steve as his hungry eyes roamed over the fabric.

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” Steve spoke with a smirk, his breath fanning over your lap, warming your cunt in a way that made you squirm. “Just leave that for Munson since he’s such a better kisser,” confidence and cockiness dripped from Steve’s voice like honey. He moved to pull your skirt back down, anticipating your pleas to continue. Luckily for him, you conceded.

“No, Steve. Please,” you begged, hand shooting out to stop him. And that was all he needed before he was pulling your panties from your legs and tossing them somewhere in the backseat. You were sure you’d never see them again. Steve placed a gentle kiss on your clit before licking your entrance to make you squirm. As if it were pure instinct, your hand shot out, gripping the soft locks of Steve’s hair.

That motivated him to really dive in, being more purposeful in the swipe of his tongue through your folds. Steve relished in the sound of your moans, the way your hips slid against the seat to meet his mouth, and how you threw your head back when his nose nudged your clit. Quite frankly, Steve had never been a big fan of eating girls out until he started hooking up with you. There was something about the way you reacted to the flick of his tongue that ended in him cumming in his pants on more than one occasion.

“So close, Stevie,” the breathy tone of your voice encouraged Steve further as he abandoned your entrance. His lips attached firmly to your clit, letting his teeth graze your sensitive bud as he sucked on it. Your chest was heaving at that point, tits jiggling with each heaving breath, and the sight had Steve palming himself through his jean shorts. And suddenly it was all too much for you as Steve’s tongue flicked wildly over your clit. 

Your thighs shook around Steve’s head while your fingers dug deep into his scalp and you came undone. Steve lapped at your entrance, licking up every last bit of your slick before finally pulling back with a labored breath. He leaned up on his knees, admiring how fucked out you looked. It was his favorite way to see you. Steve placed a fervent kiss on your lips, encapsulating all of the passion that flowed through you both at that moment.

“So who’s the better kisser now?” Steve whispered against your lips as a smirk tugged the corners of his mouth. You scoffed, pushing him gently away from you and pulling your skirt back down. It was impossible to keep the smile from your lips though, especially when Steve got up from the footwell of the car and you saw the wet spot on the crotch of his shorts. 

He got back in the driver’s seat and brought the car back to life. This time you welcomed the harsh blast of the A/C given the sticky heat between your legs and the warm air that now filled the fogged-up car. Steve drove you home, stopping in front of your driveway to let you out. He placed a quick peck on your lips before letting you out, leaving you to walk back to your front door. You stopped just before the entrance, turning to get one last look at the maroon BMW before disappearing into your house. The taste of yourself and Steve’s arrogance still lingered on the tip of your tongue as you watched him drive off into the dark summer night.

You said “Baby, no attachment”

“Jesus, this place is packed,” Eddie spoke beside you, his grip tight on his black lunch box. He’d dragged you to some house party so he could have company while he dealt. But you’d tagged along with Eddie to one too many parties to know that he’d soon disappear behind a wall of letterman jackets that he’d overcharged for weed simply because he could. You only agreed to go because of the promise of free booze.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you shouted over the blaring music that ricocheted off the walls in the crowded living room. Eddie nodded, already being pulled away by someone looking to buy from him. You struggled your way through the sea of people to the closed-off kitchen, settling on whatever liquor you deemed the strongest. It was then that you saw him. Steve’s perfectly styled hair framed his face as he leaned down to whisper something into the ear of some very tipsy blonde across the room. 

“Figures,” you scoffed under your breath, tilting your cup to your lips and ingesting its bitter contents. Steve hadn’t told you he was coming to the party, likely because he was determined to find a one-night stand or come crawling to you if he struck out. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

You refilled your now empty cup before departing the kitchen and shimming your way onto the makeshift dance floor in the living room. A slight buzz already consumed you, diminishing any worried thoughts, particularly about a certain brown-haired boy.

Someone in a letterman jacket approached you, matching your movements with a shy smile. His name was Marcus, one of the nicer basketball players from your graduating class. Letting the alcohol control you, you threw your arms over his shoulders, careful not to spill your drink. You pulled him close, pressing yourself flush against him and moving to the beat of the music. Marcus was cute, flushed red as his hands snaked around to land on your hips.

As you got lost in the ocean blue of Marcus’s eyes, you remained oblivious to the sudden drawl of Steve’s attention as he stumbled into the room. Steve’s stare lingered over your figure, the press of your breasts against Marcus’s chest, the trail of his fingers as they inched towards the hem of your skirt. Steve couldn't tear his eyes away from you, brushing off whatever girl he’d been trying to bed and stalking in your direction.

Marcus’s lips hovered over yours, tempting you with each passing breath. Finally, sick of the teasing, you used your free hand to pull his neck down, effectively closing the gap. He tasted like bubblegum and Coca-Cola, and it became clear to you then that he hadn’t been drinking. You weren’t some drunken conquest to him, just a girl he wanted to dance with.

You pulled back at the revelation, feeling a little guilty for assuming all the boy in front of you wanted was a drunken hookup. But you didn’t have much time to think about it because Steve came barreling over from across the room.

“Marcus,” he spoke simply, eyeing the boy up and down. They had been teammates at one point, but now in Steve’s mind, they were mortal enemies. He wasn’t sure why he felt so jealous considering he’s the one who insisted on being friends with benefits and nothing more. But there was no time to dwell on that.

“Hi, Steve. How have you been?” Marcus asked genuinely, seemingly unaware of the growing tension between the three of you. You stood like a deer in headlights, watching and waiting for the tornado to touch down, the hurricane to make landfall, Steve to do something stupid.

“I’m doing great. Mind if I borrow her?” Steve brushed off Marcus’s attempts at friendly conversation, gesturing to you and grabbing ahold of your arm to drag you away before Marcus could even answer. It wasn’t exactly the stupid gesture you thought it would be, more like fists thrown and punches landed, but it still annoyed you just as much.

“What the hell are you doing?” you finally wiggled out of Steve’s grasp as he took you out the front door. You set down the cup that had previously occupied your hand before whipping around angrily to meet Steve’s gaze.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, staring you down as if he were a parent scolding his disobedient child. 

“It’s a party, Steve. I’m partying,” you rolled your eyes, your voice deadpan as the heat of your rage mixed with the hot summer air. Steve scoffed, moving across the front porch to stand in front of you.

“You know what I mean, sweetheart. What were you doing with Marcus?” Steve’s breath fanned your face, doing nothing to help cool you in your overheated state.

“Whatever I want. You and I aren’t dating, remember?” you gestured between the two of you. Suddenly you felt like you’d been backed into a corner. Steve’s body inched closer to yours, encompassing you against the house’s siding, trapping you with nowhere to go. Partygoers came and went as they pleased, not sparing a passing glance your way as Steve cornered you. For a moment you let yourself get pulled into his allure, succumbing to his overwhelmingly dominant charm.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To have me all to yourself? Then you wouldn’t have to hook up with other guys to try and make me jealous,” Steve’s lips ghosted over yours in the way that always left you whining for more. But something stopped you.

“Wait,” you put your hands on his chest, pushing him back to give you space. “You think I kissed Marcus to make you jealous?” you asked a very confused Steve as you deliberately ignored the fact that he had admitted to being jealous. Steve’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what he said wrong.

“Yeah, why else would you have kissed him?” Steve countered, pulling back from you naturally, allowing more space to blossom between you.

“You’re unbelievable,” you stated, anger boiling up beneath the surface and scorching your skin. “Not everything is about you, dickhead,” you pushed past him, heading back towards the front door, desperately in need of another drink after this. But Steve’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm for a second time that evening. His grip was softer this time, free of the possessive fury that drove him earlier.

“That was shitty. I’m sorry,” he rushed out, dropping the overconfident demeanor. In the complicated web of your relationship, it was often difficult to remember what you truly were: friends. And now, before you, stood a friend who genuinely felt bad for making everything about him. 

“That was really shitty,” you spoke fiercely, still unmoved with Steve’s grip on your arm. “Apology accepted,” you caved, and Steve dropped his hand, ignoring the sudden cold that filled his palm in the absence of his skin on yours.

“Can we just forget about this and go back inside?” Steve asked and you responded with a nod, already halfway to the door. The party was even more crowded than before, making it far more difficult to find Marcus. “Shit,” Steve muttered beside you, pulling your gaze in the same direction as his.

Across the living room on the makeshift dance floor was the blonde girl Steve had been chatting up earlier. A wicked grin spread across your lips as you watched her sloppily suck face with some dude who was sure to be holding back her hair later while she spilled her guts into a toilet. You stifled a laugh, pulling Steve’s attention away from the blonde and back to you.

“See what happens when you meddle in my love life,” you patted him on the shoulder, his frown only making it harder to contain your laughter.

“Yeah, well I don’t see Marcus anywhere. Maybe he’s got some girl holed up in a room somewhere,” he pointed over his shoulder to the hallway of locked bedroom doors. He wanted to make you feel how he felt at that moment like he was the last kid picked for the kickball team. Undesired. Not that it could possibly be true though, because there was always one person who would always want you, even though he’d never admit it.

“Whatever, I’m getting another drink,” you brushed him off, already making your way through the packed room to burst through the kitchen door. You entered the kitchen, unexpectedly bumping into a solid chest clad in orange, white, and green. Marcus.

“Hey, where’d you and Harrington run off to earlier?” he asked, fingers brushing your arms as he steadied you.

“Sorry about that. Steve was having some girl trouble and needed advice,” you lied, though somehow not entirely. Marcus gave you a soft smile with a nod of understanding. “Do you maybe want to get out of here?” you asked, hoping you didn’t scare off the shy, sweet boy before you. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” he smiled and you couldn’t help but beam back up at him. You led him back through the throngs of people, passed Eddie who gave you a thumbs up at the sight of Marcus’s hand wrapped around yours, and out the front door.

On the porch steps sat a very deflated Steve, smoking what you were sure wasn’t a cigarette. You told Marcus you’d meet him by his car before sitting down next to Steve.

“Rough night?” you asked as if it was your first time seeing him that evening. He played along with your game though, something he always did.

“You could say that. Think a girl is gonna go home with you and then she’s mackin’ on some other dude,” he blew smoke from his lips, the skunky scent filling the air around you. “Still got you though. What do you say? I can take you back to mine and rock your world, sweetheart,” he wagged his eyebrows at you, his goofy nature peeking through.

It always surprised you how drastically different he could be with you. One minute he’d have you pinned against a wall with his tongue down your throat and the next he’d crack a joke and flub the punchline. The duality of man it seems, or maybe just Steve.

“Sorry, Stevie. I’ve already got a ride,” you pointed towards Marcus who stood leaning up against his car, awaiting your arrival back to his open arms. “See you tomorrow?” you stood, patting him on the knee, and began your trek across the lawn. Steve mumbled out a response, watching as you approached Marcus. 

Upon your arrival, Marcus took you in his arms, placed a soft kiss on your lips, and opened the passenger door for you. Steve watched as you waved to him through the car window, taking another drag from the joint between his fingertips. He wasn’t sure when he started feeling so empty, so complicated when he thought he was devoid of love. But he knew as the taillights disappeared into the dark summer night, that something sparked within him. The lack of strings involved in no strings attached had suddenly appeared and become tangled together.

Dream of us in a year

The cardboard box weighed heavy in your hands as you exited the elevator. Sneakers squeaked against the linoleum floors as you traveled down the hall, stopping in front of a door labeled 217. Your hands fumbled with the handle, struggling to keep the box from falling as you tried to open the door. 

It swung open, revealing a floppy-haired Steve with his sleeves rolled up behind it. He was a year older now, stubble shadowing his upper lip while shallow wrinkles had already started to line his forehead. He grabbed the box from your hands and moved inside, setting it down in the apartment’s living room. You took a moment to look around, taking in the freshly painted walls and soft carpeted floors.

“Can you believe we’ve got this whole place to ourselves?” Steve came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, breathing in the scent of your perfume. Lavender and vanilla.

“You say that as if Eddie, Robin, and the kids won’t constantly be in and out of here,” you spoke, spinning around to face Steve. Steve shrugged, a smirk cresting his lips.

“Not if we don’t give them a key,” Steve asserted, evoking a laugh from you, throwing your head back as the sound spilled from your lips. As if they’d let you and Steve have your own apartment without giving them easy access to it too. Steve took advantage of your thrown-back head and placed his lips on your neck, leaving a trail of kisses up the column of your throat.

“Steve,” you groaned, stuck between wanting him to continue and needing to keep moving your belongings into your new apartment. But Steve continued his attack on your neck, licking over the fresh bruises he painted across your skin.

“C’mon, baby. We’ll have to christen this place at some point. Why not now?” Steve spoke against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. He pushed you back, your body softly colliding with the end of the kitchen counter.

“We’ve still got boxes to bring up,” you answered in heavy, panting breaths. Steve’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his lips traveling to yours in a bruising heat. He was weakening your resolve by the second.

“You really want to stop, then we’ll stop,” Steve stated, pulling back from your lips. He was calling your bluff, you knew that. But your lips missed his and you suddenly felt so cold without his body pressed to yours. So you caved.

“Fuck it, we’ll get ‘em later,” you pulled Steve back in, crashing your lips back together. Steve’s hand drifted from its place on your cheek, moving down your body. He stopped at your breast, giving it a squeeze, before moving down to your shorts.

In one fell swoop, Steve pulled your shorts and panties down your legs and replaced the cloth of your underwear with his fingertips. He brushed against your wet folds, coating his fingers in your juices. A whimper slipped from within you, Steve’s teasing only arousing you more.

He finally slipped a finger in and curled it. Your knees buckled, hands gripping the cool granite countertop to hold you steady.

“Shit, Steve. Feels so good,” he continued his motion, adding another finger. You could feel the tension building within you like a rubber band threatening to snap. You just got to the edge when…

You startled awake, abruptly sitting up and slamming the side of your head into something.

“Ah fuck, that hurt,” you said, rubbing the aching spot and leaning back into the couch.

“You’re telling me,” Steve said from beside you, also touching his head in pain. You’d fallen asleep on his shoulder and slammed your head into his when you snapped awake.

“Sorry, had a weird dream,” you apologized before directing your attention back to the movie you’d been watching before you fell asleep.

“Yeah? What was it about,” Steve prodded, trying to pull your focus back to him. He was clearly just as bored with whatever movie was playing as you had been.

“I, uh, don’t really remember,” you lied poorly, keeping your eyes off of Steve. It felt weird to face him after your dream. It made you feel guilty like your subconscious wanted your relationship with Steve to be more than what it was.

“Liar,” Steve concluded after studying your avoidant gaze. He inched closer, his body turned towards you in his spot on the couch. “You had a sex dream,” he accused and your head snapped in his direction. Your wide-eyed gaze only confirmed what Steve had already guessed. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed with a smile on his face.

“Nope. No. I didn’t have a sex dream,” you denied but Steve was already ignoring you, lost in a slew of his own thoughts.

“You had a sex dream while sleeping on my shoulder. Should I be flattered or offended? Well, I’d be flattered if it was about me. Was it about me?” Steve rambled, ignoring your protests. Once again, your avoidant eyes told Steve everything he needed to know.

“So what? We’ve had actual sex. What’s it matter if I dreamed about it?” you spoke defensively once you realized there was no point in hiding the truth. In the heat of the moment, you hadn’t realized that your body now faced Steve.

“Nothing wrong with it, babe. Just wish you’d told me sooner. We could already be working on making your dream a reality,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, earning a chuckle in response. Steve leaned in, his body hovering over yours, lips just a breath away from touching.

“No thanks, Stevie,” you pushed him back playfully, knowing he’d be back on you in a second. Just as you expected he moved back in, closing any distance between you.

“Don’t dream it, be it,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Don't you dare quote Rocky Horror at me right now,” you scolded Steve with a smile, one that he reflected back at you.

“Let me kiss you then,” he spoke softly, tenderly, like it was his biggest desire. You melted, feeling some form of intimacy that rarely reared its head during your hookups with Steve. The walls between you fell down, allowing Steve’s lips to meet yours. 

It was soft, gentler than he’d ever kissed you before. As if a switch had been flipped within you both, the lust and desire that had been building for months finally reached its peak and spilled out from each of your lips.

Steve’s knee came up between your thighs, adding the friction you desperately needed after the combination of your dream and his kiss. You pulled apart for a second so you could take off your top and bra, your eyes refusing to leave Steve’s as you did. 

You laid flat on your back, extending an open invitation for Steve to swoop in. His gaze on you was hungry and lustful, but it was also something else, something different than it ever had been before. If you didn’t know any better you'd think the look in his eyes was love.

Steve followed suit, removing his own shirt and shimming out of his pants and boxers. He pulled your shorts and panties from your legs, staring open-mouthed at your exposed core. Your dream already had your folds coated in desire, begging to be lapped up by Steve’s skilled tongue. He wanted to taste you, to devour you in the way you both loved, but your hand stopped him.

“Stevie, need you now,” you whined breathily, Steve’s eyes catching yours once again. He nodded, moving up to hover over your body that lay flat against the couch. Your slick made it easy for him to slip in, earning whimpers from both of you as your walls sucked him in.

Steve watched your face for a moment, simply because he could, because he wanted to. He admired the scrunch of your brow, the slight gape of your lips, and the pleading look in your eye. It only enticed him more, finally encouraging him to move.

With a sharp breath, Steve pulled out a bit before pushing back in. It was slow and deep, a stark contrast to the usual fast and rough nature of your hookups with Steve. He was hitting places deep within you, pulling silent moans from your lips.

Your hands searched for something to hold, to guide you through the pleasure Steve’s thrusts were forging. One hand landed on his back, gripping tightly to his skin. The other fell flat against the couch, an open palm facing up by your shoulder. 

Steve, who had been so consumed with studying the way your face screwed up as he dragged his cock in and out of you, noticed the fall of your hand. He grabbed it quickly, interlocking his fingers with yours. Steve thrust harder then, though he maintained his steady pace. His eyes locked with yours once more, labored breaths dancing in the small space between his lips and yours. 

Steve ground down hard, your hips matching his rhythm as you both neared your highs. You suddenly felt shy. The press of Steve’s body to yours combined with the intensity of your locked eyes, making you glance elsewhere.

“Baby,” Steve’s breathy voice rang out, his free hand turning your face and bringing your gaze back to him. “Want you to look at me when you cum. Need to see it. Please, baby,” he begged, the rhythm of his thrusts faltering slightly, telling you that he was close.

You just nodded, leaning up a bit to kiss him. Steve savored the feel of your lips on his before you pulled back, meeting his gaze as requested. The pressure in the pit of your stomach became too much. Your hand squeezed Steve’s tightly as your face contorted in pleasure and your walls fluttered around him.

Steve watched as you hit your high, continuing his thrusts as your thighs shook and your moans of his name echoed throughout the room. He couldn’t hold on any longer, reaching his own peak with a low groan of your name. His eyes never left yours as he pumped his hot ropes of cum into you and watched you unwind. 

After you’d both calmed down, breaths evening out, and chests no longer heaving, Steve gently pulled out. He kept his body on yours, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. Then he got up, retrieving a damp washcloth to clean you both up. 

The both of you redressed and resumed your previous spots on the couch, pretending to pay attention to the movie again. You tried to ignore the shift in the air, the warmth that filled your chest at the thought of what just happened. 

Steve did the same, his wandering eyes glazed over as he got lost in thought about the whole ordeal. Something occurred to him then, something too important to ignore. His past few hookups hadn’t made him feel anywhere close to how good he just felt with you, how good he always felt with you.

The other girls were always too loud or too demanding or too submissive, but were they really? Steve would get hung up on some flaw while with them, no matter how big or small, and effectively throw off the whole thing for himself. 

But as he sat there with the smell of sex still lingering in the air and some shitty movie playing on the screen in front of him, Steve realized that the other girls’ biggest flaw was always just that they weren’t you. And maybe Steve didn’t want no strings attached anymore. Maybe he just wanted you. And he had no clue how to tell you.

I’m still hanging around

Family Video hadn’t seen a customer for the past hour and forty-five minutes. The front counter had been wiped clean at least six times and all the tapes were put back into the system and reshelved, leaving Robin and Steve with absolutely nothing to do.

They’d resorted to taking turns trying to catch candy in their mouths when the bell sounded from above the front door. You strolled in with a furrowed brow as you watched Robin pick a stray skittle from her hair.

“Congrats on the big promotion, Steven,” you called out, approaching the counter with a wide smile. Steve’s new name tag with the words “Shift Lead” printed beneath his name shined in the store's harsh overhead lighting. Before Steve could thank you or comment on the use of his full name, Robin spoke up, effectively interrupting him.

“Thank god, someone to talk to other than this bozo,” Robin gestured to Steve who shot her a frown. “So tell me, how’d your date go last night?” she asked, leaning forward on her elbows and abandoning the half-empty pack of Skittles that sat on the counter.

Steve rolled his eyes at the mention of you going on another date with another guy, likely with some douchebag who didn’t deserve you. He took that as his cue to leave, wandering around the store to make himself look busy and avoid overhearing any talk of how soft this new guy’s lips were. Steve could still feel the pang of jealousy that lived in the pit of his stomach ever since you said that about some guy you went out with last week.

Despite his recent revelation, Steve had made no move to make his feelings known to you. He was caught in limbo between being seconds from spilling his guts to you at any given moment and refraining out of the fear of ruining your friendship. The more he heard of you going out with other guys, the more he doubted whether his feelings would be reciprocated.

“That bad?” Robin practically shouted in response to what you told her about your date, dragging Steve from his thoughts and drawing him into your conversation. He lingered near the movie shelves, just close enough to hear as you recounted the way your date more or less slobbered into your mouth when you made out.

“I had to chug half a bottle of mouthwash to feel like I wasn’t drowning in his saliva anymore,” you sighed, resting your chin in your hand as you leaned against the counter.

“That sucks, man,” Robin said, patting your shoulder comfortingly. The bell above the door rang out and Robin peered over your shoulder to catch a look at the customer. Robin glanced at Steve, hoping he’d help whoever just walked in, but he simply pointed over his shoulder, indicating for her to get to work. “Shit, duty calls,” she spoke quickly, rushing from behind the counter to greet the new customer.

“So,” Steve appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sliding behind the counter to stand where Robin previously was. “I told my parents about my promotion and they want to take me out to a nice dinner,” Steve’s gaze was drawn to the glass counter in front of him, suddenly unable to look at you.

“That sounds nice. I’m glad they’re finally recognizing your achievements,” you beamed at him, eyes scanning over his messy hair. He’d clearly been running his hands through it, nervously tugging the perfectly styled strands out of place.

“Yeah,” he started, letting out a huff of breath as he spoke. “They want you to come too,” he finally met your confused gaze. Your brows lifted and your mouth fell agape as you processed Steve’s words.

“Me? What? Why?” was all you could get out, words stuttered as your head filled with questions.

“Well, remember that time they came home early and nearly caught us in the kitchen so we played it off like we were about to make breakfast?” Steve asked, watching as your cheeks heat in embarrassment from the memory.

“The French toast incident. Yeah, I remember,” you nodded, curious about its connection to Steve’s upcoming celebratory dinner.

“Ever since then, they’ve been convinced that we’re dating. No matter how many times I’ve told them we’re not, they still think we’re together. They call you my girlfriend and everything,” Steve informed you, and it was like a light bulb went off in your head.

“The very few interactions I’ve had with them make a lot more sense now,” you stated, recalling all the times Steve’s parents asked you very girlfriend-esque questions. “Anyways, I’ll be there. Anything to support my little Stevie,” you pinched his cheek and Steve couldn’t help but laugh. 

Robin rounded the front counter, barreling Steve aside to ring up the customer she’d been dealing with. You took that as your indication to leave. You spun on your heels, heading back to the front door when Steve called out behind you.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven,” Steve spoke and you just kept walking, finally stopping as you reached the door.

“See you then, Stevie,” you smiled at him, pushing open the door and walking out into the summer sun. 

Steve wasn’t sure why his palms were so sweaty all of a sudden. Maybe he could blame it on the rundown air conditioner that Keith refused to replace. But he knew deep down that it was you. It was always you. His chest filled with butterflies at the thought of taking you out on a real date, despite the annoying addition of his parents. He’d treat you better than any of the other guys had before. He’d make you want to be his in the same way that he wanted to be yours, that he was sure of.

I know what you tell your friends

Steve picked you up right when he said he would, watching as you descended your driveway in a sundress. He couldn’t help the silent gasp that fell from his lips, so taken aback by your beauty. The passenger door swung open and you slid into the seat, meeting Steve’s admiring gaze with a smile.

“Ready, boyfriend?” you teased, leaning into the role that Steve’s parents expected you to play. Steve could’ve sworn that his heart stopped as the word fell from your lips. He hadn’t known until then how much he wanted to hear you call him that.

“You bet, girlfriend,” he snapped himself out of his stupor and finally responded, driving off in the direction of the restaurant.

Butterflies bloomed in your stomach, their delicate wings swarming deep within you. Things had been different with Steve recently but you weren’t sure why. His longing stares and flushed cheeks raised feelings from deep within that you were unable to identify, pushing them aside for the sake of your friendship.

The restaurant came into view and you noticed the nervous tap of Steve’s fingers on the steering wheel. When the car came to a stop you took hold of his hand, wrapping his palm with yours and easing the worries that plagued him.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” you spoke softly, comfortingly. Steve’s eyes softened, his head nodding as his nerves melted away at the tingle of his hand enveloped in yours.

The restaurant was packed when you entered, your hand still interlocked with Steve’s. It didn’t take long to find Steve’s parents though, all you had to do was follow the sound of a woman complaining that her ice water had too much ice.

“Hi Mom, Dad,” Steve greeted his parents, pulling their attention to the two of you standing on the opposite side of the table. Steve’s parents were not the touchy kind, opting for a simple nod of their head in greeting rather than a handshake or hug.

“It’s nice to see you again, dear,” Mrs. Harrington addressed you, a plastic smile upturning the corners of her lips. The conversation continued, Steve’s parents pestering you both with questions.

“Steve tells me that you’re in school?” Mr. Harrington questioned, his gaze peering at you through the thick lenses of his glasses. You were taken aback by his question, not expecting him to know much about you. Steve had talked about you to his parents? He’d told them about you and your personal life?

“Yes, I am. I’m enrolled at the community college for now but I plan to transfer to a state school once I get my associate's degree,” you did your best to remain calm under the intense gaze of Steve’s parents, though the foundations of your cool facade were beginning to crack. Steve noticed the panic that creased your brow, taking it upon himself to clutch your hand in his under the table. Relief flooded you instantly, calmed by the warm caress of Steve’s skin on yours.

“That’s a good plan,” Mr. Harrington spoke again, turning his gaze from you to his son. “Seems much better than working at a video store with no thought of the future,” his face remained straight as he insulted Steve as if it were second nature by now.

Steve’s admiring smile, the one that stretched his lips at his father’s approval of your current path, faltered at the harsh words directed his way. Your hand squeezed Steve’s, reminding him that you were still there, that the insensitive words of the man before him didn’t matter. 

“Dad,” Steve started but was quickly silenced by the raise of his father’s hand. It was like watching a dog following its owner’s command to sit. Steve was well trained by now, knowing when to be quiet, but you weren’t.

“With all due respect Mr. Harrington, Steve has worked his ass off at Family Video,” you defended, ignoring the gasp that came from Mrs. Harrington at your use of profanity. “Steve earned his promotion through hard work and dedication, two principles that I thought a businessman like yourself would greatly value,” you continued, your hand still clasped against Steve’s as your rage boiled over.

“Well, yes but-” Mr. Harrington began but you interrupted him before he could continue.

“Maybe it’s not the most glamorous job in the world, but Steve is learning valuable skills that can easily translate to other jobs later on,” you stated while Steve’s parents sat dumbfounded across from you, not used to being talked back to. “It's a shame you can’t see how wonderful and compassionate your son is. You should be proud of the man he’s becoming. I know I am,” your eyes roamed the dropped jaws of Steve’s parents and held back a smile at their shocked expressions.

You turned to Steve then, his gaze securely fastened on you. A smirk danced on his lips as he admired the crease in your forehead and the angry pinch of your brows. He watched as your expression unraveled, softening as your eyes landed on him. 

Steve was speechless, stunned by your fierce loyalty on his behalf. He wanted to kiss you so badly, crush his lips to yours in a way that left a bruise by the time you pulled away for air. But he held himself back, not wanting to make you uncomfortable with such a public display of affection.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to freshen up in the restroom,” you gently pulled your hand from Steve’s, pushing your chair back and knocking some silverware off the table in the process. Steve watched as you walked away, encapsulated by the sway of your hips and the skin exposed by the movement of your dress with each step.

“I’ll go get some clean silverware,” Steve leaned down, picking up the utensils that littered the ground. He then quickly followed in your direction, leaving his still-shocked parents alone at the table. He approached the bathroom, a single-user restroom, and knocked on the door.

“Occupied,” you called out through the door, barely heard over the conversations and soft music that filled the restaurant.

“It’s me,” Steve said into the door, hoping not to attract too much attention from the tables nearby. The lock turned quickly, allowing Steve to push the door open and step into the small bathroom with you.

He clicked the lock back into place before turning to face you. His eyes read yours, receiving their open invitation, so he grasped your face, pulling it to meet his. Steve kissed you in the way he desired to only minutes before, with a rough clash of teeth and tongues that left you breathless.

“That was so fucking hot,” he spoke into your lips, one hand caressing your cheek as the other trailed down to your exposed legs, roaming the expanse of your bare thighs. 

“Steve,” you tried to break free from his kiss, but his lips followed yours. “Your parents are still at the table,” you reminded him, knowing that he intended to do far more than just kiss you.

“We’ll just have to be quick then,” his lips caressed yours again, his hand moving inwards, meeting the seam of your panties. You were conflicted, worry washing over you at the possibility of being caught. But Steve’s touch momentarily quelled the burning heat that bloomed between your legs.

His fingers slipped beneath your panties, tracing the outline of your folds, swiping at the dampness that began to form. He swiftly pulled your panties down, helping you step out of them before shoving them into his back pocket. Steve leaned you over the sink, unzipping his pants and slipping his hardened cock from the confines of the material.

You watched him through the mirror in front of you, his hands stroking his cock before lining it up with your entrance. He eased in, slipping in inch by inch before bottoming out. A moan slipped past his lips as he quickly pulled out and thrust back in, giving you little time to adjust. 

His thrusts were harsh and rough, knocking you forward with each motion. Your elbows that propped you up slid against the sink’s smooth countertop, bringing you closer and closer to the mirror with each movement. But Steve didn’t let up, forcefully pounding his cock into your core as he whimpered above you.

“Fuck, babe,” he groaned, his hands holding your hips in place. “It’s like your pussy was made for me. Squeezing me so good,” he didn’t let up, fucking you desperately, like he’d never get to do it again. 

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, suppressing your moans, not wanting to be heard by the rest of the restaurant. 

“So close, baby,” Steve leaned down, pressing kisses to your bare shoulders while maintaining his fierce pace. Your high was building along with Steve’s as he brushed a spot deep within you. 

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming,” Steve spoke suddenly, catching you off guard as he spilled into you. Steve’s thrusts faltered as he pumped his cum deep within your folds. “All mine. Want you to be all mine,” he whispered into your skin, slumping against your folded body. It took a moment before he stood up straight again, regaining his composure and tucking his cock back into his pants.

You stood up with him, wide eyes watching him from the mirror. He fixed his disheveled hair, not noticing the shocked expression that you wore. You hadn’t cum, hadn’t had enough time for your orgasm to fully build before Steve spilled his seed into you. You also couldn’t ignore the words he muttered against you. Words that spoke of a relationship, something more. The same words that Steve seemed to be completely oblivious to having said. 

“You okay?” Steve asked, finally noticing your worried look. You nodded, observing the boy who seemed to have unknowingly confessed his desires to you. “I’ll leave you to freshen up. I gotta go get more silverware,” he pulled the dirty silverware from his pocket that didn’t have your panties before opening the door and leaving you pantyless, alone in the bathroom with frazzled thoughts and his cum leaking down your thigh.

“What the fuck?” you mumbled to yourself, locking the door once more and cleaning yourself up. Did Steve want to be with you? Did he want to have you in the way you secretly hoped?

Your thoughts still raced as you exited the restroom, weaving through tables to get back to where you previously sat. But something caught your attention, or more like someone. Steve stood with a waiter, some guy you recognized from high school but couldn’t quite name off the top of your head.

“Are you two dating? Never thought I’d see the day when King Steve finally got tied down,” the unnamed waiter said, earning a grin from Steve. You were curious to know his answer, to hear what he said about you when you weren’t around. 

“Nah, man. She’s just some girl that lets me fuck her on my couch,” Steve chuckled, running a hand through his hair. The color drained from your face, breath exhaled shakily as tears welled in your eyes. His response was a far cry from what he’d whispered as he came inside you just moments ago.

Your feet carried you away, stumbling back to the table to avoid being seen by Steve. You plopped into your chair, meeting the skittish gazes of Steve’s parents. Their expressions reminded you of your words from before, how you defended Steve, how very wrong you may have been. 

Steve appeared a minute later clutching a new set of silverware and spewing an apology for how long it took. He placed the silverware in front of you, replacing your soiled set. His hand came to rest on your thigh and you couldn’t help the way you flinched at his touch. It was as if he was a completely different person to you now. 

Conversation resumed, Steve easing the tension at the table and re-engaging with his parents. You chimed in when needed, staying silent otherwise, consumed by thought. Steve’s parents had warmed up to you again by the end of the meal, despite how shutdown you had become.

“Steve should bring you to our house in Long Beach sometime. It’s gorgeous this time of year,” Mrs. Harrington suggested and you forced on a fake smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes, as you nodded. You and Steve thanked his parents for dinner before heading back to Steve’s car. 

The drive back to your house was quiet, your eyes peering through the window, gazing at the passing scenery, doing anything to keep from looking at the boy next to you. Steve came to a stop in front of your driveway and you immediately opened the door, stumbling out and starting the walk to your front door.

“What are you doing?” Steve called after you, exiting his car and following behind you. 

“Going into my house,” you said, not bothering to turn around or stop, continuing your trek to the door.

“No kiss? No goodbye?” Steve questioned, finally reaching you at your doorstep. You had been fumbling with your keys, struggling to unlock the door. Steve’s hand landed on your shoulder and you snapped, abandoning your keys in the lock and whipping around to face him.

“Why does it matter? I’m just some girl that lets you fuck her on your couch, right? So why do you care?” anger spilled out of you with each syllable, causing Steve to pull back, his foot falling down a step, letting you tower over him. “Yeah, I heard you, asshole,” your words spewed from your lips as Steve’s mouth opened, silently fumbling for words.

“I didn’t-” Steve began before you cut him off.

“You don’t have to worry about people thinking you’re tied down anymore, King Steve,” you turned back to your front door, finally managing to get it unlocked. You took a step inside while Steve still stood on the doorstep. “Maybe you can find some other girl to fuck around with instead,” you slammed the door shut, sinking against it and falling to the ground as the tears you held in finally leaked down your cheeks. You didn’t mean it, of course you didn’t mean it. But the hurt and anger tore you apart as you sobbed into your hands.

Steve stood still on your doorstep, his feet rooted to the spot, staring at the closed door. He loved you, he knew that for sure. As his glassy eyes traced the spot where you just stood, he felt his heart crack and shatter, its pieces filling the pit of his stomach with enough force to make bile rise in his throat. Steve knew he loved you, and unfortunately, he knew that he also just lost you.

Someone you couldn’t lose

“I really would rather just go back home. Why do you even need me for this?” you asked Eddie, his arm interlocked with yours, dragging you forward. He continued his steady pace, not letting up despite your dragging feet that weighed him down.

“Because you haven’t done anything but cry for the past few days. You need to leave your cave of solitude,” Eddie’s breath was a bit labored as he led you to the entrance of The Hideout. “Plus Gareth canceled on me and I didn’t want to go by myself,” Eddie added, eliciting an eye roll from you.

“Why couldn’t you take Robin or, I don’t know, literally anyone else?” you asked while Eddie guided you through the bar. The bar was practically empty, the crowd even smaller than when Corroded Coffin usually plays. God, the band playing tonight must suck.

“Because I enjoy your company, sweetheart,” Eddie hummed, plastering a sickeningly sweet smile on his lips. A smile that you met with a glare. “And Robin is busy with Steve tonight,” he revealed his true reason for inviting you.

In another universe, a less complicated one, you would be mad at Eddie for being his last-resort concert buddy. But in this universe, the one where you and Steve were interlinked in an ever-so-tangled web, your heart stopped at the mention of his name.

Steve’s crude words played through your head like a bad earworm, momentarily overtaking your thoughts as your face faltered. Eddie watched the quiver of your lip and crease in your brow. He ached at the thought of your sadness, wanting to alleviate any trace of it, which is why he brought you to The Hideout, but not for the reason that you might think.

“Let’s go get a drink,” Eddie put his hand on your back ushering you towards the nearly empty bar. For once today, he didn’t have to drag you, your feet willingly trailing along behind him at the thought of alcohol. Eddie plopped down on a stool ordering you both a drink while you slid in beside him. 

The drinks were quickly made and paid for, leaving the two of you to sip away in silence. Your gaze drifted around the bar, curiously eyeing its patrons. Something didn’t seem right as you scanned the stage set up on the side of the room.

“Eddie,” you took a sip of your drink, focus shifting back to the boy next to you. “If there’s a show tonight then why is it so empty in here?” the question left your lips and Eddie’s nervous stare landed on the wood surface of the bar below. 

The front door slammed open, saving Eddie from your question. Your head whipped around at the sound of the door in combination with the hushed voices that filled the room. Steve and Robin. They were arguing about something, but you couldn’t hear them. The sounds that encompassed the bar slipped away, leaving your ears ringing in the stark silence. 

Watery eyes gazed upon the boy across the bar that was too enveloped in his conversation to look up. Eddie cleared his throat beside you, but your eyes didn’t leave Steve, roaming over his wild hair and disheveled clothes. Eddie may not have been able to get your attention, but he did get Steve’s, drawing his awareness until his eyes landed on you.

Steve froze in place, his pink lips parting in surprise as he traced your features. His heart ached at the distance between you, both metaphorical and physical. You couldn’t help but feel the same as you got down from your stool, feet pulling you closer. 

Steve met you halfway, stopping in the middle of the room, uncaring of the questioning looks you both attracted in the process. Words were lost on the tip of your tongue, incapable of leaving your lips.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Steve spoke breathlessly, a nervous hand running through his hair. “Robin dragged me here, but I can leave if you want,” Steve offered, but you quickly found yourself shaking your head.

“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice small like a child who’d just been scolded. Steve nodded quickly, taking no time to think over your suggestion. He didn’t need to, all he could think about for the past few days was how badly he wanted to talk to you. The ache in his chest only grew more painful with each passing day of silence. 

With his hand grasped in yours, you led Steve out the side door to an alleyway next to The Hideout. Your hand tingled at the warmth of Steve’s palm pressed gently against yours. Reluctantly, you dropped his hand, leaning against the building as Steve’s wandering gaze studied you nervously. He wasn’t sure whether you wanted to speak first or not, but he just couldn’t hold it in any longer, succumbing to his urge to expel an explanation.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said that about you,” Steve spewed out, his words desperate and pleading, frown lines etched deep into his skin.

“Is that really how you feel about me? That I’m just some girl?” you asked, voice quiet and broken, stifled by the tears welling in your eyes. You couldn’t meet his gaze, embarrassed to sound so small, so reliant on his opinion of you.

“No, absolutely not,” Steve shook his head immediately, stepping closer to you. “I just- I’ve been feeling a certain way about you lately, but I didn’t want to scare you. So I downplayed it, tried to make it seem like it was nothing to that guy from high school, but it is something,” Steve confessed, scanning your face for any hint of what you were thinking. He couldn’t find what he was looking for in your avoidant stare and his shoulders deflated.

A cool summer breeze whispered in the space between your bodies, bringing a chill to your skin as you thought over Steve’s words. You could feel the way his eyes searched you, pleading for a sign, but you didn’t budge, not when you didn’t have the answer you were looking for yet.

“And how exactly have you been feeling about me lately?” you finally look up, meeting Steve’s desperate stare. His lips parted, tongue darting out to wet them as he mulled over his next words. You were giving him a shot, a chance to lay it all out on the line. Steve just had to be smart enough, brave enough, to take it.

“Like I love you,” Steve asserted with shaky hands, carefully watching you for a reaction. The breath in your lungs fled, your eyes widening a bit and then softening in sweet admiration while the corner of your lips ticked upwards ever so slightly, which only encouraged Steve to continue. “Like I want to be with you all the time, not just late at night or when neither of us can get laid. I want you to be mine and for me to be yours,” his feet carried him closer to you, his spearmint and cigarette scented breath fanning warmly across your face. “Do you want that too?” he asked, his confidence dwindling by the second, making his voice as small as yours had been earlier.

His eyes darted back and forth tracing your soft skin, your lengthy eyelashes, and your plush lips. Steve was dying for your answer, just on the brink of falling to his knees and begging, but if there was even the slightest possibility that you were to reject him then he wanted to savor this moment beforehand. The calm before the storm.

He wanted to memorize the curve of your cheeks, every beauty mark or scar expanding across your skin, the way the moonlight illuminated your face in the dark of the night. Steve decided he could wait forever for you to speak your next syllable as long as he got to stay in this moment and simply be with you. But despite his desire to freeze time, your mouth opened, effectively sealing Steve’s potential fate with you.

“Yes,” your answer came out breathlessly like you had just finished running a marathon, and based on how fast your heart was pounding in your chest, you might as well have. Steve exhaled in a smile, his tongue wetting his lips once more. He wanted nothing more than to caress your supple skin and kiss you. So he did.

Steve wrapped you in his arms, pulling you flush against him, and searched your face for reassurance. When he found what he was looking for, Steve dived in, pressing his lips to yours. It was far from the first time you’d kissed, but something felt different this time. It was years of buried feelings finally clawing their way to the surface and announcing that they were here to stay. You pulled away with a smile and your forehead pressed to his.

“You know,” Steve spoke, words just above a whisper as he attempted to catch his breath. “Now that I think about it, there’s no way we coincidentally ended up in the same place at the same time,” he finished, arching a brow at you, hoping you’d understand what he was implying.

“Eddie and Robin definitely set this up,” you caught on to his train of thought.

“Definitely,” Steve agreed. He should be mad, he really should be. His friends had no right to meddle in his love life like this. But how could he be upset when he had you cradled in his arms and your chapstick smeared across his lips?

“I hate them,” you voiced, clearly unserious in your statement.

“I don’t,” Steve peered down at you, catching the reflection of the crescent moon in your eyes. “They brought me back to you,” he shrugged with a smile and you couldn't help but mirror him before closing the space between you with another kiss.

After a few more shared smiles and soft kisses, you and Steve decided to go back into the bar. It was just as empty as it had been before, further proving to you that Eddie lied in order to get you and Steve together. Steve’s hand was clasped around yours as you walked further in, spotting Eddie and Robin sitting across from one another in a booth.

“Follow my lead,” you whispered as the pair finally saw the two of you approaching. Wide smiles stretched their lips at the sight of you hand in hand. 

“So Eddie, when’s this band coming on?” you asked, coming to a stop at the end of the booth. Eddie’s eyes widened at your question, having expected you to forget about how he got you to The Hideout under false pretenses, especially given the fact that you’d made up with Steve.

“There, uh, isn’t one for tonight,” Eddie stuttered, looking like a deer in headlights at the arch of your brow.

“Oh,” you did your best to look taken aback like this wasn’t the answer you had expected. “So you lied?” you questioned, your tone expressing more confusion rather than anger, which only made Eddie more nervous. His mouth hung agape while Steve and Robin stifled their giggles and smirks.

“How about I get everyone a drink?” Eddie stood up quickly, looking for an escape. “Steve? Wanna help?” Eddie backed away from you and headed towards the bar. Steve released his hand from yours, shaking his head with a smile as he followed behind.

You slid into Eddie’s vacated seat, across from Robin. She still had a smirk etched into her face when your gazes met.

“Don't think you’re off the hook too,” you stated and her smirk fell almost comically. Your gaze drifted from her to the bar, landing on Steve. He was already facing you with a warm smile.

“I love you,” he mouthed to you, and you felt your breath catch again. It was something you’d have to get used to. After so long of denying your feelings and the insistence to stay casual, it would be a big change. But it was a change you were more than happy to accommodate.

“I love you too,” you mouthed back, and you really did mean it.

[comet-forgot-you]

Hii girlie, I wanted to thank you for feeding us every day🙏🙏 your fics are so good and I really appreciate that you make effort to post everyday(but don't overwork yourself!). I'd also like to ask if you could write anything for Sam Carpenter?? Thank you bb, ur awesome!!💖💖

hurry

sam carpenter x reader

summary: the drummer of your brother's band is hot.

warnings: 18+ pls, smut, thigh grinding, mentions of previous events, fingering, marking, biting (just like once), almost caught but def not, i think thats all lmk if theres more. 

a/n: HEY GUYS DID U MISS ME??? enjoy this one in a million occasion of me writing for someone other than a mikey madison character😱😱 this is my first time writing for sam dont bully me im just a girl. do not repost for any reason.

your brother and his stupid band. the same one that gathered in the garage every saturday and played the same music every time. you usually never minded the music, but you were frustrated. the house was hot, the air conditioner was being worked on and the heat was really starting to get to you.

you were laid on the couch in the living room, stripped down to your sportsbra and shorts hours ago, trying your best to cool yourself down. the glass doors leading to your backyard were wide open, a small breeze flowing in. you didn't understand how they did it. how they practiced in the small, hot garage. it was much hotter in there than it was in the house, opening the garage door hardly helped cool it down.

the sound of the music stopped and a few minutes passed before the door leading to the garage opens and your brother walks out. you sit up slightly, looking over at him as he grabs his keys.

"where you goin'?" you ask, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"to get a fan, it's hot as fuck in that garage," you brother mumbles, walking back to the garage. "why, need somethin'?" you shake your head, falling back onto the couch. the door closes and you let out a sigh of relief at the quiet house.

the sound of drums interrupt the silence and you can’t help the giddy feeling that washes over you. sam was still here, of course she was. you pull yourself off of the couch and walked towards the garage, eyes landing on her the second you opened the door.

fuck.

she was hot, you knew it, she knew it, but right now? with the way sweat coated her body, her arms on display due to the sleeveless shirt she wore? it forced a wave of heat to pulse through you. her muscles flexed with every beat of the drum, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. she looks up at you, slowly coming to a stop. she pries a headphone out, nodding up at you. "hey," she says loudly. she cringes at the volume of her voice, “sorry, what’s up?”

a smile tugs at your lips. "hey, sam. didn't want to go with my brother?" you ask, stepping into the garage. sam shakes her head, grabbing the almost empty bottle of water sat next to the bass drum.

"nah, already hot as it is, didn't want to sit shoulder to shoulder in his small ass car with all of em'." she pulls her headphone case out, taking her other headphone out before stuffing it back into her pocket. you could feels sam’s eyes on you as you move to stand next to her, head tilting slightly as you look over the drums.

"want me to teach you how to play?" she asks. you down at her, biting the inside of your lip.

"sure," you mumble, taking the sticks she offered you. you stood awkwardly next to her, waiting for her to get up, but her hands find their way around your hips, pulling you to sit down on her lap. she holds onto the backs of your hands, moving them to beat against the drums softly.

her breath is hot against your neck as she whispers instructions. you try to listen, you really do, but the way her hands hold onto you, the way you can feel her chest flush against your back, it was so fucking distracting.

sam shows you how to play a small piece before she lets go of your hands completely. you miss it almost immediately. she bounces her leg slightly in an attempt to get you to repeat the motions she had just showed you, but the feeling of her thigh pressing into your clothed cunt has you surpressing a whine. you shakily reach out to beat against the drums, repeating what sam had just showed you.

"yeah, just like that," she mumbles. she holds onto your hips, the feeling driving you insane. her leg bounces against your cunt so nicely with every beat against the bass drum. you're overwhelmed, the feeling of her pressed against you, the way she unknowingly pressed into your cunt so perfectly, it was all so much and so so fucking good.

"fuck," you let out a quiet whine as sam's leg grinds against your cunt again. you lean back against the girl, drum sticks gripped tightly in your hands, your head resting on her shoulder. sam's arms move to wrap around your waist, a fake look of worry plastered on her face.

"you okay?" she asks.

you roll your hips against her thigh. "don't act innocent, sammy," you whine. sam traces her fingers across the exposed skin of your stomach. “you know what you’re doin’," you mumble. sam smiles, finger dipping into your waistband before pulling it back to let it smack against your skin. you arch into her touch, drumsticks falling to the ground.

“can’t help it, you look so pretty.” you pry her hands from around your waist before turning in her lap. a small smile paints her lips as she looks up at you, eyes blown with lust. her hands find their place on your hips again, yours holding her shoulders for support.

seconds pass before your lips are pressed against each other, sam guiding your hips to grind down on her thigh. quiet moans fall from your lips and sam’s quick to take advantage, pushing her tongue into your mouth. your hands tangle into her hair, tugging lightly to separate the two of you.

“need y’so bad, sam,” you mumble against the skin of her jaw. sam’s grip on your hips tightens ever so slightly when you suck a deep mark in her neck.

“your brothers gonna see that,” she mumbles in, pushing her hand into your shorts. “he probably saw the last ones, too,” you groan, memories of sam’s head buried between your thighs flashing through your head.

“shut up,” you whine, pulling away from her ever so slightly. “living room, need you so bad, please?” sam lets out a quiet groan, nodding her head. you smile, taking her hand into yours as you pull her into the cooler house.

you can barely make it to the couch, sam’s hands wandering all over your body. you push the brunette onto the couch, straddling her lap almost immediately. sam’s lips trails up and down your neck, pausing every once in a while to suck marks into your skin. she pushes a hand into your shorts and you quick to grind down against it, needy moans falling from your lips.

sam rubs your clothed clit, “just fuck me already, sammy, need it.” sam pulls your underwear to the side, swiping a finger through your soaked folds.

“fuck,” she groans. her hand holding your hip moving to wrap around your waist. “so wet, all for me?” you nod frantically, needy moans falling from your lips when sam prods your entrance with her fingers.

“yeah, all for you, promise. js’,” you pause for a moment, bucking your hips into her hand, “please.”

sam sinks two fingers into your cunt, curling them slowly, before pulling out completely, spreading your wetness to your clit. you let out quiet whimpers at the stimulation, her fingers gently teasing your pulsing clit. you call her name in a quiet whisper. its a plead you can’t help but let out. her actions send waves of heat surging throughout your body.

“hmm?” she hums against the skin of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer to her as her fingers sink back into your cunt. she’s gentle despite the aggression she took out on her drums mere minutes before.

she thrusts her fingers into you rhythmically, curling them to hit the spot that has you biting your lip to suppress the noises that threaten to slip out. sam’s free hand moves to cradle your haw, thumb tugging at your lip. she tsks, “none of that, you wanted me, let me hear you.” the demanding tone in her voice draws a whine from you. sam’s thumb grazes your clit and your hips jerk at the feeling.

its not long before you’re teetering on the edge of your orgasm, sam’s thumb rubbing tight circles around your clit, finger’s pumping in and out of your dripping cunt so deliciously. the sound of your brother’s car has you whining against her neck, “better hurry up before they come in. wouldn’t want them seein’, hmm?” you let out a loud moan, biting her shoulder in an attempt to keep yourself quiet. sam lets out a hiss at the feeling. “unless thats what you wanted. wanted em’ to see you all slutted out for me.”

“no! no, please, fuck, no don’t want em’,” your sentence is cut off when sam’s fingers curl into you.

“come on then, cum for me,” she mumbles. your orgasm hits you seconds later, loud moans muffled in her neck. same pulls out of you, bring her fingers up to her mouth and licking them clean. the motion has you stifling a moan that threatens to escape. the sound of the large garage door opening has you pushing yourself off of sam’s lap, still struggling to catch your breath.

“go,” you mumble, cheeks warm from your previous activities. sam doesn’t move, her lips twitched up into a teasing smirk.

“why? don’t want em’ to see how much of a slut you are for me?” you roll your eyes, heat building in your core.

“shut up, sam. go.” sam smiles, pushing herself off of the couch.

“same time next week?” she jokes, walking back to the garage. you roll your eyes at her, a soft smile etching its way onto your lips.

“idiot,” you mumble beneath your breath.

reblogs much appreciated :D

[notspiders]

Liminal Spaces w/ COD:MW

Part 1

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Credits for some of the ideas goes to: @angelcqre , @roller-rink-haruno , and @sentientcave / @bluemoonrover. I love all of you so much, thank you for the support!!!

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It's more than just Task Force 141.

Don't like them? Consider these following options! :) Watch your back.

Phillip Graves - The Farm:

There's really nowhere to run off to. Good luck.

His Shadows are the farmhands and the scarecrows.

His animals are... weird.

His horses are a bit too smart, and you think you seen them peering through your bedroom window. Which is nice, until you remember you're on the second floor.

They're... always crunching on something. Why is the family of mice decreasing?

Why do the dogs look human-like? Is it the eyes?

But, you know, ignoring them... the BBQ and steak isn't so bad. You'll get the juiciest steak here. The best baked bread...

Oh, hun. You're cooking, by the way.

He's waiting on that blueberry pie too, you know.

Look at the closet. It's filled with his favorite clothes for you. :)

Why don't you bend over that counter and let him...

Oh? No? You're saying no?

That's adorable. You now have until three to lay on his lap. :)

Alex Keller - Highway

Well you do have to be in a car for this. Walking is a bit of a pain. :/

The endless highway... Sometimes you'll spot a car driving by. But they disappear when you try to speed up to them.

There's an occasional gas station smack in the middle.

And maybe the next hundreds of miles there's another...

Always stocked to the max. Anything you want, it's there.

It's cool inside too.

He's always there too.

You can keep driving but you need the gas. It'll be a pain to have your car broken down in the middle of nowhere. And the sun is scorching hot.

Oh!

Princess needs somewhere to stay, yeah?

That motel looks sus but a place is a place, and a bed would be nice than the hard car seats.

You know...

Alex can do more than just fill your car. :)

Laswell - Cruise Ship:

The cruise ship is always moving in the waters. You don't know where it goes, or when there will be land, you feel like the boat has moved for hours but...

All the clocks are not working. It's all frozen. The day is not changing either. No clouds either. Perfectly sunny.

You have everything in this empty cruise ship. The rooms are always open for you.

Beds are clean, no matter how many times you mess up the sheets, when you exit the room and enter it again- it's back to its pristine state.

The bathrooms are neat. The shampoo and conditioner go great on your hair. There's other products- makeup, medical, more toiletries- in the drawers, should you ever need them.

Theaters, arcades, casinos, restaurants- all free for you to use.

It feels great, if it didn't feel like you're being watched constantly.

You'd enjoy this place, if you didn't see things move in the corner of your eye. You sworn you saw and heard the splash of water in the pool. And that you heard the laughter of someone in a different room. And the chattering in the restaurant.

But every time you rush in, there's no one there.

No one is here in this cruise ship. No one but ghosts and echoes of families who've been here. They're harmless... Just ignore them, dear.

Good luck trying to avoid Laswell, too. She's always watching through the cameras. :)

Under any circumstances, do not jump out.

The ocean is not the ocean.

Nikolai - Airplane

Let's get this straight, yeah?

Good girls stay in first class. Bad girls go to economy.

And if you behave like an animal, well, depends on our pilot's mood. You either get called into the cockpit...

Or down into the cargo you go! :)

Don't worry! He's very nice. If you're acting up, he gives you a warning.

That being turbulence. If the plane is shaking you better stop what you're doing. Now.

It's a strange plane... You can keep on walking and it just doesn't seem to end. Place changes too, when you try to go back. It's always something new.

Plenty of movies and games in the airplane for you to watch. Don't bother taking your phone out, it won't work.

There are very nice flight attendants that'll prepare you the best food you've ever eaten. Airplane food isn't so bad after all. You can have any drink you want too.

Just don't talk with them more than just about the food. If you say anything else, they'll leave immediately.

If you flirt with them, it's their death sentence. You'll wonder why they pale and walk away so fast...

If you glance at the window, you might just catch a glimpse of them flying out into the sky.

Speaking of which... It's pitch black outside. You do see the airplane wing and the red flashing light at the end... But other than that, you can hardly differentiate the night from earth... or sea.

König - Pools

You stumbled into one of these rooms and found the naked Austrian in the pools.

Don't run! Please! You're the first human face he's seen in a while!

It's not all that bad. There's some food in the fridge- a microwave is nearby for you to reheat some foods- and the water is fresh.

The best baths are here. There's all of these shampoos, conditioners, lotions, bathbombs...

Poor König never used them because he doesn't know how to! Teach him please!

Seriously. Gaz gave him the 13 in 1 unlimited dish soap that has Johnny's face smack in the middle of it to shoo him out of his mall- and König's been using that to wash himself ever since. :(

Don't mind him cuddling you all the time.

You're the softest thing he's ever held in his hands. The towels and rubber duckies can't even compare.

Don't try to escape or leave his side now.

There are monsters here that'll be happy to drown you.

Alejandro Vargas - The Resort

A massive upgrade compared to Ghost's Bachelor Shack by the sea.

It's still... very empty.

It's just you and Alejandro.

Food and drink are limitless. Ask for anything, Alejandro will deliver.

Relax, love. You deserve this break. You deserve everything.

No annoying seagulls squawking at you. You do see them flying in the distance though... They never come, nor do they ever land.

The waters are crystal clear. It's the perfect temperature to slip inside and just float in it.

You're never cold. It's toasty warm, with an occasional breeze. Feels perfect. The hotel has perfect air conditioning, if you want to stay inside.

You get a camera, instead of your phone. Go take some pictures!

There's so many things to do here. Scuba-diving, sailing, swimming, surfing...

Exploring tide pools with Alejandro. :)

Rodolfo Parra - Aquarium

Enjoy yourself in the aquarium! Don't you worry, the animals here are all treated wonderfully.

Let him be your tour guide. He'll show you every marine animal in this domain.

And it seems he has everything here. You can take pictures! Just without the flash please. Seriously. No flash. In fact, how about just let him take the pictures for you? Pose with him and smile for the camera... :)

If you want, you can feed the animals here!

You can pet some of the animals in some spots. Rub the back of a patient orca. Allow a sea otter to sniff your hands. Pat the belly of a lazy seal.

Come over to the Ray Pool! The stingrays are eager to feel your touch.

The beluga swims beside you as you walk down the tunnel. A dolphin leaps out of the water to greet you. A manatee smushes its face against a window in an attempt to give you a >kith<.

Ah you're hungry? Not to worry. The cafeteria is down here. Anything you want to eat or drink, it's all here.

After lunch, how about you go diving with Rudy? Don't worry. It's safe. He'll take you to one of the biggest pools and you can dive in beside him.

The Humpback Whale nuzzles you affectionately.

Try not to stray away from Rudy. You can easily get lost in these halls... If you do, stay still and just let him come up to you.

There's no point in hiding. The fish are on his side. :/

Farah Karim:

I truly believe that Farah actually doesn't have a liminal space.

She guides you instead.

She helps you go through the domains.

Farah is someone you can trust in this liminal region.

She'll watch your back as you two camp in Soap's woods. She'll lead you out of Price's suburbia. She sneaks you away from Graves's farm.

She'll protect you.

Bonus w/ Ghost:

After you met with Alejandro and seen his beach, Ghost upgraded his domain.

Well, slightly.

There is a lighthouse now.

Do you remember playing in the beach with him? You two built sandcastles together.

He's awfully proud of himself when he tips the bucket and pulls it up. He's made his first sand tower, really.

"Tha's gonna be where you and me live, lovie."

...No wonder why that lighthouse looks awfully familiar.

It also explains why it looks like it's going to crumble any second.

Sure, there's blankets and lovely cushions, some food and drink in the corner-

It's... somehow colder here than the shack. :/

You can practically feel the tower shake as the waves crash against it.

Ghost assures you- as you curl up beside him on the small bed for his warmth- that it's perfectly safe. Trust him. Please.

Please don't leave him.

But if you really need to...

He'll light his tower to guide you through the dark.

[abbysdruidess]

•._.••¯´´•.¸¸.•headcanons about married life with abby [w nsfw]•._.••¯´´•.¸¸.•

wc: 1.1k

tags: tooth rotting fluff, smut, dom!Abby, dom/sub dynamics mentioned

a/n: lmk what you guys think abt this one:)

this is kinda in the same universe along with the abby proposes to you and wedding hcs, so if you haven't you could check them out-though this one could also be read as a standalone<3

ꜱꜰᴡ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

❦ you guys put a lot of work into your little dreamhouse™️ and are extremely proud of it. As an out and about lesbian, Abby took up a woodworking project and built a library that fits right into the wall of your living room. Which you were extremely supporting of, because it gave you the lovely opportunity to ogle your wife in a tank top and work pants, huffing, red faced and wiping sweat from her forehead in your backyard. You set an alarm and every couple of hours you bring her some cool water or lemonade with fruit and brush some locks of hair out of her dewy face<3

❦ she's also one of these people that don't believe in bringing in a handyman to fix any faulty appliance in your household. She has a huge, neon yellow tool box stashed away somewhere(you still aren't sure exactly where) that magically reappears everytime your car won't start or the air-conditioner starts making a noise. And 90% of the time Abby gets the job done, running on pure willpower and spite alone. When she doesn't and you guys have to bring someone else to do it, she just goes "Pfft, I could have totally done that. I just didn't cause I thought I might break it.". "Of course honey", you reassure her with a kiss on the cheek. You don't have her saved in your phone with an image of Bob the Builder for nothing.

❦ you guys are over at her dad's place a lot. When you were looking for a house, you made sure to get a place near his so you could visit whenever. He has a photo of you two from the wedding in his mantlepiece making the goofiest faces imaginable and every single time you visit Abby pesters him to take it down while you shit yourself laughing in the background.

❦ also, when your step-siblings Yara and Lev join, it's absolute chaos. You guys probably end up having an impromptu food fight and flick celery sticks at each other.

❦ if you have any hobbies such as knitting/playing instruments/writing etc she's fullly behind them and will always ask you to show her your progress. She's pretty proud of it as well, and smiles a little excitedly like :D

❦ please sing to her. It doesn't matter if you haven't sang a day in your life and it sounds like tires screeching on asphalt, it calms her when her baby sings to her. Will think you have the voice of a choir of angels no matter what and it is the only thing that can effectively put her to sleep. Bonus points if you play the guitar as well.

❦ Abby is really into reading(probably why she got that library built in the first place) and has one permanently etched in her night stand. She strikes me as one of these people that is a fan of the classics and doesn't read anyone that came after Hemingway. Until for her 26th birthday someone gifts her books from like Stephen King or Alison Bechdel and initially she's hesitant but eventually they grow into her and are stationed into her Hall of Fame shelf.

❦ whenever either of you is sick, you insist to pamper and care for one another. During the winter months Abs has a cold or the flu every month or so, and you have to actually fight her to take the day off and rest.

-Baby, you burning up. If you go to work you'll just get worse.

-I'm *cough* fine. I honestly feels 10 years younger. I don't get what the big deal is.

❦ you two definitely exercise together. Either you always go to the gym together-although you're not there as often as she is. Abby exercises religiously 5 times a week and that exercise will take place with or without you, but she would be damned if she didn't love when you tagged along with her. Either you guys have set up a little home gym with some basic equipment like mats, a treadmill, these bouncy balls and a weight lifting bench. Of course, you spot her, because you will take up any offer to ogle at her putting those big, powerful guns she calls arms to work. She reciprocates by insisting to hold your thighs while you do sit ups. And she inevitably ends up squeezing them like balls of dough.

ɴꜱꜰᴡ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

❦ when you first met Abby in your early 20s, you though it was natural for a woman her age to have such a heightened libido. After all, she did get around a lot for someone that looked like her. And that instict to fuck you senseless never abandons her-Abby is in a constant state of Wanting to Fuck, and is game whenever you are.

❦ Your sexcapades have included(but are not limited to): empty libraries, locker room showers, back alleys of clubs and just about any sturdy furniture in your house.

❦ she is a total beast when it comes to lovemaking, and can go anywhere from 2 hours to all night long, although most sessions end when you tap out bc you know you'll be sore tomorrow.

❦ even though everyone knows you're Mrs and Mrs from the ring on your finger, Abby wants to reassure that, by marking you as hers. Hickies, bites, anything is game. And she loves the slight sting of the scratch marks you leave her when she hops in the shower the morning after. She calls them claw marks affectionately.

❦ Loooves strapping you to positions she can utilise her muscle strength, like flatiron or missionary with her arms propped up. When you're scissoring, she wants to be the one with her legs on top, grinding her pussy into yours like it's nothing.

❦ I think Abby has this very hard dom image, and while she wants to take over during sex and feel like the one in control, she also needs to be taken care of. She works hard from day to night, and her past partners haven't been exactly accommodating to her needs. So whenever she's particularly exhausted, crawl under the covers to give her some head. Or in the shower. Or in the couch. Or under the dining table. She definitely cums fast when you suck her clit, it gets extremely sensitive and swollen while you're in between her legs.

❦ Is an occasional squirter, and also loves to make you squirt. It happened once as you were riding her face, and she just. slurped it all up. You lowkey passed out on the spot as your knees almost gave up.

❦ cuddling with her afterwards. There's still some resounding bliss in the air, as you both treasure the moment, your limbs all tangled up. You leave small kisses all over her sternum as she tightens her grip around you. If you're too exhausted, you fall asleep immediately, if not you just glance at each other through heavy lids with lovestruck eyes. You sleep like a baby and wake up feeling as refreshed as ever.

send me an ask if you guys would like me to elaborate any of these<3

[pablitogavii]

I have a slightly strange idea, since in Spain it is hot in the summer it has occurred to me that Gavi is with his partner and that if the girl refuses to give him a hug because of the heat and the next day Pablo put the air conditioner on full (so it would be cold) for the girl to hug him. I don't know if you could do something with this

No more excuses!

"Joder! Es demasiado caliente!" you said while you were sitting on the balcony of your and Pablo's shared apartment drinking some cold lemonade trying to answer you emails.

You just had to come back inside but after collecting so much heat from the outside, you were still sweating despite the AC being turned on.

"I'm home amor!" Pablo walked in with Ale returning from the daily run. You were still confused how he could run during weather like this! That's an athlete for you haha!

He reached to hug you but you pulled back asking him to shower and he groaned giving his friend his car keys and he left before Pablo went to the bathroom to shower.

You really could care less if he was sweaty and smelly but you were just way too hot to hug anybody right now! You just needed to cool down for a few minutes.

You were sitting on the couch reading emails when he came back wanting to pull you to cuddle but you pulled back again.

"Are you mad at me or something amor?" he asked and you shook your head groaning that you were still too hot to even think straight.

"No cariño..I'm just hot!" you say closing the lap top and leaving to take a cold shower yourself hoping that would help. Pablo was left there pouting and watching some random game wishing you would just let him hug you anyways!

Even during the night, you refused to get too close sleeping in your panties and his old shirt still feeling so freaking hot. This summer was really a killer in Barcelona!

Since you knew you both needed physical contact to fall asleep you still held his hand but that's all the contact Pablo got and that wasn't what he wanted!

When he woke up the next morning, he rushed to lower the temperature so much so that you were woken up with a goosebumps all over your skin.

"Joder!" he heard rushing into the bedroom with a smug on his face while you were freaking out looking yourself fin the mirror.

"What's wrong mi amor??" he asked and you turned around with a worried face making him furrow his eyebrows.

"I think I am entering menopause amor! I was so hot yesterday and I'm too cold right now..and what if I can't have kids anymore!?" you were mumbling until Pablo bursted out in laughter.

"That's not funny cabrón! I wanted to be a mom!" you hit his shoulder quite hard but of course it didn't hurt at all and he grabbed your body pulling you close.

"And you will be in the future princesa.." he smirked and you rolled your eyes not thinking this was the time for him to be dirty.

"You're barely 20 years old amorcito, you're not entering menopause..I lowered the temperature in the apartment" he explained and you quickly calmed down now laughing at yourself realizing how absurd your conclusion was.

"Shut up! I was so scared! Cabrón! Why did you lower the temperature so much!?" you say and he chuckled kissing your head and pulling you even closer so that your hands were resting on his strong chest.

"So that you can hug me finally! And cuddle me! And sleep in my arms! I miss you amor!" he pouts and you giggle leaning in and kissing his lips lovingly giving him the biggest hug possible.

"Awe cariño..tu eres tan precioso!" you coo and he blushes while still hugging you refusing to let go.

"Menopause? Really amor!?" he teases and you both burst out in laugher while being in each other's embrace.

[heymeowmao]

2024.08.13 - https://weibo.com/l/wblive/p/show/1022:2321325067017437970567

LYN: Long time no see, long time. Wait for me a sec- I want to turn on the AC. It’s a little warm. LYN: Long time no see. It’s been quite some time since I last streamed. I happened upon a video today- they were saying that I- hold on, let me adjust the sound settings- I haven’t streamed for 46 days? Or something? I heard you calling me, so I couldn’t resist. LYN: There’s a saying, isn’t there? “If missing you had a sound…” I heard that friend- they were howling. It’s been forty-some days since I’ve streamed, so they couldn’t stand it any longer. So here I am. I’ve got to get my month’s quota down quickly. LYN: Let me welcome you in again.

C: I almost stopped being your fan. LYN: Is that warranted? It was only a few days, and you want to stop being my fan? If you’re going to be like that, then let me be arrogant as well: Do you need me to call you a car? If you do, contact my studio and they’ll give you 10RMB for the car service. Goodbye.

C: Lao-da, do you know how loudly I cried? LYN: It’s 9pm, be quiet and don’t disturb your neighbors. I’m only streaming, it’s not like I died. Why are you crying? C: I missed you so much I had insomnia for the past 46 days. LYN: ??? Your sleep schedule is probably not that great to begin with. Try to get some more regular exercise. Adjust your body’s circadian rhythm and it will help with your sleep. Don’t blame your lack of sleep on me. There are so many recorded livestreams, if you have time you should just watch those. You can pretend they’re “live” streams. How can you blame your poor sleep on me??

C: What’s up with the hair down the middle? LYN: It’s for ~the look~. I really can’t talk about anything too fashionable with you. It’s the look. Can’t you see that my top has all these shiny sequins? That’s so I can look cool. And you dare to ask me why I have hair down the middle?? It’s fashionable! C: You’ve been wearing a hat to stream for so many times now. LYN: It’s like this- most of the time I had a whole day of filming earlier in the day and I come straight home to stream. Because I have to apply the wig, it makes my hair really flat. Because if you want to apply the wig, your natural hair needs to be combed very smoothly, and to get clean edges they will use lots of hair wax/gel. By the time I get home my hair is flat and full of wax, so there’s no shape or style. I can only cover it. If I wear a hat, I won’t have to wash my hair. I don’t wash my hair, because if I do then I also have to remove my makeup. … If I wash and remove my makeup, when I start streaming you won’t recognize me anymore. It’s like Painted Skin- you’ll discover a new person underneath. So because I don’t want to remove my makeup, I don’t wash my hair either. Please be understanding and let me wear a hat. I look warm/gentle, don’t I? 

C: The weather is so hot but you’re wearing long sleeves. Are you not hot? LYN: There is an electronic in this world, it’s called an “air conditioner.” LYN: You always see this, though. For example- all artists. Think about Hengdian- these days it’s been around 40C. When I look at the weather forecast, it says that the real-time temperature is 40C. Let me tell you- it definitely isn’t only 40C. When you open your phone there’s a weather app, and it will tell you the temperature of the day/time. It might be telling you it’s 39C right now, but it’s not. I don’t know why they can’t report that it’s hotter. Are they afraid of scaring me to death? C: They’re afraid to scare you to death. LYN: Like for artists- and for me who is currently filming- it’s currently 40C in Hengdian. Often, we’ll have to act out scenes when it’s “snowing.” Sometimes it’s at night, but even then it’s 30-35C. And it needs to snow. We have to pretend it’s cold, while wearing a big fur coat. “Wow, how cold. 35C…” There’s just no helping it- because it’s our job. I’ve gotten used to it, for the most part. It’s the same for female artists- in the winter they have to attend awards ceremonies and similar events but no matter how cold it is, they’ll wear a gown. It’s a show of respect towards the event or sponsoring platform. Likewise, I’m wearing long sleeves in my house right now as a show of respect to you. Of course, I hope there is mutual respect here.

C: What’s drama snow made out of? LYN: Usually there are two- three types. What happens if we want snow in the drama when the actual season doesn’t allow for it? There are three things. The first- it’s not actively snowing, but we can place it on the ground. So, for scenes where you see the “snow” has already fallen and gathered on the ground. But we can’t have it fall because this stuff it’s toxic if it enters the eyes/mouth. It can’t all, but we can put it on the floor. Someone told me once, what it was, but I can’t say. It’s not bubbles/foam… more like salt? I don’t know what it is. [instant snow polymer (sodium polyacrylate)] You put this type on the floor. If it can fall from the sky, it’s one of two types. C: Styrofoam. LYN: No, we don’t usually use that. Because once it gets on you, it’s all over. LYN: It’s more like what you would use to wash with- shower gel. Like when you blow on and scatter a mound of bubbles. That’s the first kind- shower gel. They make a thick foam of bubbles and then blow it with the wind machine. The second kind is- C: Made with dandruff. LYN: 去你的! LYN: The second kind is made with sticky rice- it’s kind of like rice paper? They’ll shred it and then blow it through the air; it looks like snow. Why do I think it’s made with sticky rice? Because one time it fell on my lips and I ate it. I didn’t swallow it- I may look dumb, but I’m not ACTUALLY- but I tried to push it out of my mouth and I discovered that it was sticky. They told me it was made with sticky rice, and that it was ok- I wouldn’t die from it.

------- 

LYN: A while ago I went to record for Our Songs, and I’m sure you’re enjoying watching it. I sang… a few songs. - /plays the video for 恋爱画板 and sings along/ LYN: Honestly, friends, I had to sing this with quite a pinched tone. From a performance perspective, it’s not a particularly difficult song or very high key. But the difficulty for me was that I had to use a pinched tone. Normally when I sing, you all know the type of song that I suit- /starts singing 就在江湖之上/- they’re all this type of song. But for this song, I couldn’t just- /sings it powerfully/. That’s not good. So I had to “pinch”- /sings cutely/. There was just no helping it. How else was I supposed to sing it? I had to match the mood of the song. LYN: I had fun filming these couple of episodes, as they’re all people I’m more familiar with. So I felt a lot more reassured during the recording process. I was happy. C: Are you going later, too? LYN: WMDG? I think I’ll go? But I don’t know- I’ll have to see if I have time. I think there’s some sort of finale that I will attend. If I’m remembering correctly, I should be going to it.

C: What’s Music Fate Plan (音乐缘计划) like? LYN: /rolls his eyes around his head to show he’s thinking of what to say/ LYN: I went and recorded… half. It should be four episodes total. I went to be a guest member, for four episodes. But I only recorded for half. You’ll probably see it later. I had fun because I was with people I know. Honestly, I know fewer people as an actor; since I was a singer to start with, I have more singer friends. In my group chats, sometimes they will ask me, “Do you know this actor?” and give a name. I reply, “... Who is it? What do they do?” They tell me what that person has acted in, and I… still don’t know them. Most of the time I’ve heard their name before, but I don’t know them. But as for singers, I think I’m not bad. Let’s not tak about whether I’m close with them or not, but for the most part I know them all. At the very least, I’ve worked with them before. [t/n: not sure, but I think this is in reference specifically to the Music Fate Plan singers?] LYN: I was quite happy to go, but I don’t know- it gave me the feeling that the longer I recorded, the more afraid I got. The longer it went, the more terror I felt. Because I’m a person who likes to joke, but during recording I discovered something. The terror I felt made me think to myself, “Is this okay?? Is it alright to talk to each other like this?? When this show airs, would we not all be cursed to death by the viewers? We must all be crazy.” I can’t believe we said some things we did without filtering it through our brains first. I don’t know! I don’t know what they’ll put on air. It’s possible that if we went overboard, they would cut it out when editing. The more I recorded, the more afraid I got. I would ask the person next to me- Zhou Shen- “Isn’t this a program that airs on tv? Jiangsu Satellite TV, right?” If it were just shown online, it could be more lenient. But this is an official television broadcast. “Are we allowed to do it this way??” I’m not afraid- because I would never say anything terribly bad about others- but just because we played it big with some of the jokes we were making. It’s only because we’re close with each other, so we feel comfortable enough to make these types of jokes. But I can’t help but wonder if it’s… allowable? If it airs just like that I’m sure we’ll be cursed to death by the netizens. I think we were a little bit too much in our natural states.

LYN: Am I trending? Don’t try to trick me! I’m… not worthy. I don’t think I have what it takes to be trending. You’re not lying to me, are you? -- 我不配 (I’m Not Worthy Enough) by Jay Chou LYN: Let me take a look. LYN: 19! 🙂 C: Ning-ge, you’re at 20. LYN: … I was just at 19 but sang a little and now I’m at 20? I can feel your rejection of my music. /sigh/ Fine. I won’t sing. I just won’t sing, ok?

LYN: You can check out Music Fate Plan. I should have gone to record… episodes 7, 8, 9, 10? 4 episodes. I was abe to choose some songs that I liked, and will be performing them on stage.

C: Ning-ge, why are you wearing a hat when you’re home. LYN: I already explained when I started the stream. You probably just came in. When I stop streaming, you can go watch the playback. There’s about 5 minutes where I explain why I’m wearing a hat. If you really want to know why, I can use a short two-word explanation. “Cold Body. (体寒)” “Please understand.”

LYN: I’m quite familiar with the Music Fate Plan guests. What can I say… let me go in order: - Liu Duanduan- We’ve worked together before; we shot a drama together. He was… my brother? …Right. He wasmy brother. So I’ve worked with him before. - Shan Yichun- I’ve met her on WMDG before, and we did a song together. We also released a song for Honor of Kings. It counts as having worked with her before, so we’re close. - Zhou Shen- We’ve been in a lot of variety shows together including one season on WMDG and KSTLB. He’s a close friend. - Xue Zhiqian- I often see him, always on music programs. - Xiao Gui (Wang Linkai)- We’ve also worked together before. I think people enjoyed our collaboration (on WMDG). (烟花易冷) - Zhou Bicang- Actually we… also recorded WMDG together. Why is it that now that I’m thinking about it, it’s the same group of people doing music variety shows?? The group of us have all been on WMDG. I’ve worked with her before, and once for a New Year’s event we sang together. - Huangzi Hongfan- this is a new friend that I’ve met. He’s quite a good kid. LYN: We had fun recording. Because we all know each other, so it was a relaxed mood and we were able to speak without reserve.

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C: Ning-ge, people say you’re an Introvert. LYN: You must not be on the internet very much, because I can see that when some people type comments, they don’t have the “super fan” tag stuck to the back of their user ID. Some IDs are made up of a string of English numbers and letters, too. But I don’t quite know what it means- what’s an I-person and an E-person? I-people are more… “i”? Lol, nonsense. I-people are more... introverted? They don’t like to talk much or make friends, and pretty much keep to themselves. E-people are (extroverts)- people who go anywhere and can get along well, make friends, and have fun. LYN: Actually, a lot of people think that I am an E. “I saw online that Ning-ge accompanies people for drinks.” “He must be good at networking, and can talk himself into projects smoothly.” “He looks so social.” You might think I’m that way, but in reality I… really don’t talk at all. I’m very “i”, and I don’t like gatherings. But right now I’m streaming, so I have to get myself into a “performing state” and stream for you. If I were to be this crazy in my personal life then I’d really be insane. C: Aren’t you pretending to be cool and composed? LYN: I’m not pretending to be cool and composed, I just think that most things aren’t my concern. I’ll keep my distance.

C: Your coworkers say that when you sing Rang Jiu you drink wine. LYN: /lol/ Huh?? Who said that? Who’s spreading these rumors?? After I drink I can neither sing nor act. If I drink, my voice turns hoarse. So I can’t sing. LYN: Also- who’s going around drinking first, then singing? You should really be careful- Do you think this is a KTV?? You could go with your friends to a KTV, eat guazi, pistachios, duck tongues and have a few beers, sure. When you sing after that you’ll probably be thinking you’re the best, and you’re one of the Four Great Heavenly Kings. It feels like you’re singing amazingly. But singing happily and singing for singers, for recordings- is two different things. If you’re recording, you have to be very detailed, and record very many times. It’s not like performing live- that’s actually okay. But in a studio you have to be really detailed and focused. There’s no way I would drink a little before I sing Rang Jiu. Woud it make me appear more carefree?? -- 让酒 (Let the Wine) LYN: This is water! Don’t really think that I’m consuming alcohol. This is pure water.

C: I want to watch your concert. LYN: You have a chance.

LYN: This song is also very good. I wasn’t able to recommend it to you because around that time I hadn’t streamed.  -- 作者 (Author) - Interlaced Scenes OST

C: Trending topic is #32 now. LYN: It’s okay. With my level of status and fame, being on the list in the first place is already a great blessing to me. Be it #32 or #89, it’s all good.

LYN: This song from 颜心记 (Follow Your Heart) is also very nice. - /pulls up the wrong song from the OST/ LYN: Oh- it’s called 心悠悠 (Longing Heart). Hold on… - /tries to pull it up but can’t find it (?) so switches track/ LYN: I have to find it and I don’t want to type anymore.

LYN: There’s also another song I sang recently, for A Lonely Hero’s Journey - 孤舟. It’s a good watch, and features one of my good friends. Xiao Zeng-tongxue (Little Student Zeng). If you have the time you can check it out. I really did watch it. A little. I found the time to watch some.

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C: How long do you usually stream for? LYN: I find the time to stream a little, and I’ll only do it for 10 minutes. I finish up in 10-20 minutes. Because I don’t really know how to do a livestream. Normally, I’m not someone who is very good at communicating, so I’ll stream for 10-20 minutes and then leave. So when I stop streaming you should… rest early. 

C: Did ZSX give you money yet? LYN: It’s not worth it! I don’t need money for EVERYTHING. I also sang a song for the OST, so- do I really need to say more?

LYN: There are some friends here who keep bringing up the names of other artists, and asking me for my opinion of them. The thing is- what right do I have to judge others?? That’s the first thing. Secondly- I have no right! Even if I say something good, what right do I have to comment? I don’t. LYN: It’s actually really easy to reply to these types of comments, though. If they ask me about anyone I can say, “They’re very nice. Such a good person! Really, not bad.” That’s normal, isn’t it? They ARE all quite good. C: Lao-da, what do you think about Liu Yuning? LYN: Oh, him? You know, I really can say a lot about him. I think that Liu Yuning is just... average. Yeah. Average.

C: Ning-ge, do you have any dramas that will air soon? LYN: Um…. /laughs at himself/ It looks like I’m crazy. LYN: I don’t know. C: The system has a bug? LYN: There’s no bug. There’s a bug in ME. Sorry. LYN: I don’t know. Honestly. As an actor, it’s really hard for us to say when our own dramas will air. The platform doesn’t even know most of the time, let alone the actors. A lot of dramas are released on the fly- they’ll air without any promotion.

LYN: TXJ- you know the drama, I acted as Zuo Bufan- that drama already aired, and I hadn’t finished the recording for the OST yet. Usually I’ll sing an OST for the dramas that I’ve acted in. But it was released so suddenly that I hadn’t yet found the time to record the OST yet! After a week of airing, I finally finished the song and then it was added in. It was really that rough. There wasn’t any promotion prior to the drama airing. C: TXJ was a good drama. LYN: Really, it wasn’t bad. TXJ is a genre that I quite like. When you’re watching it, you’ll feel like it’s different than most other dramas. It might not be a mainstream drama, like most people are into these days. That’s not the style. But… I thought it was an enjoyable watch. If you have the time, you can go check it out.

C: The voice-acting for Cicada Girl is done, right? LYN: Voice-acting is done. I don’t think I’ll be singing for it, though. The demos they gave me… didn’t really suit me. So I won’t be singing, but voice-acting is all done. It’s real-time sound, so I only had to make-up for some parts. Honestly, I don’t have very many scenes in it, either. The whole drama is 24 episodes, so I don’t have many scenes. I forgot how many, but not more than 200. C: I like how you look as Xiao Bei. LYN: It’s just short hair, isn’t it. At the time I was putting on wigs to stream. I’ve also not had much experience shooting moden dramas, so- /doesn’t finish the thought/

C: When will SJYM wrap? LYN: Mid-September or so? I still have less than a month left. C: What are your plans for after wrap? LYN: After drama wrap I’ll… what’s it to you? Why do you have to ask about everything? Don’t ask. LY: After wrap I’ll stay home and idle. No- I have a bunch to do. On the music side, there are many things that I have yet to record. I tend to just do things when I think about them. I was thinking before that I would create an EP of collaborations. I had collected a bunch of songs, but I haven’t even released my album yet and I’m thinking about releasing this EP. I need to find people to collab with, and also work on my album.

LYN: I was planning to go to an awards ceremony, but they require you to report what song you’ll be performing at the event ahead of time. And what a coincidence that it’s been five years after my debut- that’s right, isn’t it? Has it been 6 or 5 years? Six years? Ok, well- It’s been six years since my debut, so wouldn’t it be meaningful if I sang 讲真的? -- 讲真的 LYN: I was thinking, if I sang this song, wouldn’t it be particularly meaningful? I can say,” Look at me then- I was just someone who sang songs at the side of a road. And now I can sing them on this stage.” I don’t know. That’s what I was thinking of doing, but I didn’t end up doing it. I switched the song. But I’ll find an opportunity later to rearrange this song and perform it on a stage.

LYN: (about Fall in Love) At the time this song was supposed to be the first one on my new album. But now it’s been three years since I released it. I was thinking this could be the first song on my second album, and I sang it at the Jiangsu New Year’s event. Then later that same year, I would release the rest of the album. And then? I didn’t release anything else. LYN: I was thinking this was the year to finally release the album, but I don’t know. I just feel like it’s about time and I should do everything it takes to release it. As long as I return to Beijing and record the last few songs, everything will be ready. But because Fall in Love was released so long ago, it is no longer considered part of the album, but as a regular single instead. I can start releasing the rest of it. I’ll send it out of nowhere, straight to your front door.

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LYN: There are a lot of new people watching my stream today- have you only started liking me recently? Huh? I haven’t been on anything lately, why would you start liking me now? It’s unbelievable.  C: Centipede fan. LYN: 蜈蚣粉 (wúgōng fěn = centipede fan)? I’ve heard of 酸辣粉 (suānlà fěn = hot and sour noodle). I’ve heard of 螺螄粉 (luósī fěn = river snail noodles). What is an “wúgōng fěn”?? Is it some place’s specialty dish? /laughs/ I’m kidding. I know what you’re talking about. The leaked video about the centipede, right? LYN: Honestly, that was nothing and didn’t have much to do with me. It’s all thanks to the far away paparazzi. I didn’t grab it, it was just a coincidence that I maybe happened to brush against it and knock it off her skirt. This was no main hero saving the fair maiden situation. I just happened to be able to knock it off. Don’t push that on me and make me out to be a hero. I’m not. - LYN: It was a pretty interesting day. LYT and I were filming up on the rooftop. It was a pretty complicated scene, overall. And then after a while, about ten minutes into the scene, I started hearing shouts from across the way. /unintelligible screaming/ But from that far away, the only thing I could make out was “Li Yitong”! That was the only thing I could hear. I was joking with her too, saying, “Hey! Your fans are out to support you. You’re too amazing. You even have fans hiding out in the mountains to support you. Thanks for letting me “fly” (be in the photos) with you.” I was thinking, “There are fans who would hide out in the mountains just to provide support?? That’s amazing.” But then I saw them start to point. I was looking around, thinking we had unknowing bared ourselves? But we didn’t- everything was covered. I hadn’t seen it yet. I had no idea what was going on. Then, from the video you saw what happened.  - LYN: It was so strange! I’m sure of one thing- after everything, when we knew it was a big centipede- I had told her, “The events of this night are worthy of more than one hot topic. We’re going to have at least one.” Just like I predicted, the next morning there was a trending topic at #1. That bug’s size was just too great. The length was worth it. The more amazing thing is that I’m sure one day many friends will watch this drama, and when you see that scene you will say, “This is it! The centipede scene!” I’m sure that’s all the comments will be talking about. C: Does the centipede get any screentime? LYN: I don’t think we recorded it. LYN: The centipede that day reached the height of its popularity.

LYN: Someone asked me earlier when I expect my new dramas to air, and I really don’t know. Honestly, I also don’t have anything in stock. All of the previous drama that I’ve filmed for- the ones where I have fewer scenes- have all finished airing already. I’m not sure when the rest will air. I haven’t even done the voice-acting for a lot of them yet. So I don’t know when they’ll air, but we’ll just wait.

C: Lao-da, I’m almost celebrating my birthday. LYN: ? What does that mean- “almost”? Is it coming soon or is it today? LYN: To everyone who is celebrating their birthday today- I wish you a Happy Birthday.

C: Ning-ge, will you act as a dominating CEO? I think your breathy croak is not bad. LYN: What breathy croak? I can’t tell if you’re trying to compliment me or imply something else.

- /Talking about some art that a fan had made? A mosaic? I don’t get the reference, but Ning-ge thinks it’s romantic./ - /I also don’t know what they talk about next. Something about putting on/taking off his clothes?/ C: Ning-ge, when you say it like that it sounds shameful. LYN: Isn’t it, though?? What are you girls thinking about all the time? You got happy even seeing a mosaic??

C: Do you die at the end of SJYM? LYN: … Uh… This is… /gulps/. I can’t spoil it. You’ll know if you watch it! Who knows if I’ll die or not??

C: Lao-da, will there be a music festival 4.0? LYN: Of course, as long as I have the time. This drama had been difficult to shoot. I don’t know why, but I feel especially tired. Oh- uh, of course, I am not complaining. I’m not trying to say that my work is tiring- there’s none of that. Acting as a profession is not a tiring thing. I’m just trying to say that personally, because I am in bad health- I either have the chills or diarrhea- because I am a weak person, that I find shooting this drama is tiring. I feel tired because am in bad health, not because the work is hard. I’m getting older and can’t hold out anymore. /coughs/

------ break #1 - /laughs at the video of himself he put up/ LYN: I’ve just discovered that maybe I used to be a lunatic. 

LYN: I was scrolling across weibo today and I saw something. My friend Yizhe, went to CMBF, right? Wang Yizhe. I think their first public performances are done already. If I’m not seeing incorrectly, I think he’s ranked last. LYN: Brother… LYN: If you (are eliminated)- Please don’t blame gege. I didn’t do it on purpose. I was just joking. I didn’t REALLY shoot the support video for you that way. That’s also not was I was thinking in my heart. LYN: You have to take care of yourself! Jiayou! Next time you’re working on a song, could you ask me? You have this friend who does music, don’t you. I’m considered a singer. You can ask me- not that I’m trying to tell you how to do things, but we can communicate and think about a good way to execute your performance. I can provide some ideas. Don’t just try to do it quietly and on your own. Don’t do it by yourself. LYN: I have two friends on this show- one was Fang Yilun, and he left after one round. This one is called Wang Yizhe and I’m really afraid that he’s going to fold after one round too. I’m afraid for these two friends. Yilun really did leave after one round the last time. Next time when you’re choosing the song you can talk to me about it. I can break it down for you.

LYN: I watched your stage! I watched your performance of 问风. I watched it. Let me tell you, you can’t change the song like that! /laughs/ You could have asked me!! Oh wait- what if I know the person who rearranged it? No- I was joking! That performance was amazing! But the voting is really unpredictable. The song is great, and the arrangement was the best! Amazing! Luxurious! Friends- let’s appreciate this performance of 问风 together. You can experience it. Listen to this- -- /analyzes Yizhe’s perf of 问风 on CMBF/ - /thinks the adlibbing was unnecessary and surprised himself by guessing the direction the melody would flow, lol/ - /turns into a drummer/ LYN: That’s it?!

LYN: This is… let me check who the arranger was, first. Ok, well. If it were me, I wouldn’t- I would probably also do it sort of like this. I feel like the arrangement was great. - /tries to get his “thumbs up” filter to work/ LYN: Overall, the song is not bad. LYN: /to WYZ/ But the next time you’re choosing a song, you can communicate with me. I might not be the most professional out of all the people you know, but I can brainstorm with you. - /plays the song again/ LYN: See? It’s really got me. I can’t help but want to hear it again. LYN: Just- If it had entered into the chorus (without the adlibbing), that would have been really satisfying. Keep the momentum going. But I know that they probably had a time limit of at least 1m30s- a performance within 100 seconds at least. His performance was 1m25s, so 95 (85) seconds. Relatively short. So you could have cut the adlib, and just come back to it at the end instead. That would have been enough. If it were me, that’s how I would have done it.

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LYN: The other day someone told me that this song 当遇见你 (The Moment I Met You) is coming back around again. - /goes around thanking people for using his songs, and tells his fans to do the same instead of trying to start fights because of it./

C: Lao-da, how much longer will you stream for? I’m going to sleep. LYN: What time is it? 10:40p. Okay. If you’re sleepy, then go to sleep. You don’t need to tell me. Just listen to a song before you go. - /plays a loud/raucous song to wake people up/ LYN: I’ll stream for a little while longer before I stop. It won’t be too late since I’ve got to get an early start tomorrow morning. If you want to sleep first, then go ahead. C: You don’t have any secrets to tell? LYN: I can’t use the jokes I make in my stream every time! If you’re wondering why this friend would ask this, it’s because the last time someone wanted to leave to go sleep, I said, “You go to sleep. Now I’m going to tell the biggest secret in the entertainment industry. If you’re not here, you won’t be able to hear it.” I hooked them, so they didn’t want to go to sleep anymore. But this time, if they want to sleep I should just let them. It’s a Tuesday. Last time was a Saturday or Sunday, I don’t remember. But on a Tuesday people have work or school the next morning, so let’s not disrupt their sleep. Right? Rest well.

C: Are you still working out? LYN: No. I gave up. There was a day I felt I was getting fat and thought about losing weight, but after a whole day of filming I’m tired and don’t really have the energy to work out. So I thought I would try to control my eating, so I was on a diet for about 20 days. Now I’ve lost about… from my heaviest (most recently) until now, I’ve lost about almost 10, maybe 9kg.

C: Ning-ge, I lost my dog. Could I borrow Daimi for two days? LYN: You must be crazy. You can’t borrow her.

C: Ning-ge, can you recreate Hei Xiazi’s look? LYN: There’s nothing really special about his look. Rather- not that there’s not anything special, but it’s not difficult to do like a guzhuang look would be. Xiazi is just shades and some unkempt hair, and a leather jacket. Cargo pants. Gloves. That’s about it. C: Hurry. Change. LYN: What do you think I am? You think you can just change my clothes: “This hat isnt good. Take it off. The hair color doesn’t work. Lets dye it pink. Add glasses!” Is that what you mean? You’re thinking of me as an Yuning-nuan nuan? After picking on my profession, now you’re starting to micro-manage my look? You’re playing with me?? - /puts on some shades/ LYN: Wow~ /laughs/ This one doesn’t work. The shape isn’t right.

C: Can’t I use technology? [t/n: ??] LYN: That’s what I was trying to say earlier!! If you’re playing that game that lets you change the avatar’s clothing, you still buy the outfits with real money or by buying the lottery tickets. I’m letting you watch my stream for free, and you want me to change clothes too? LYN: I used to change, remember? I changed into the baby cabbage shirt. I changed into a green/yellow shirt, and as soon as people saw me they started telling me, “Ning-ge, you kind of look like a cabbage.” It was demoralizing, because I had just bought that shirt. It was a few thousand dollars. I was planning to wear it on a variety show, but then you all started snidely remarking that it made me look like a cabbage. I never touched that shirt again. My studio found it one day and asked if I wanted to wear it and I told them, “No! Get rid of it. Give it to my makeup artist. I never want to see this cabbage shirt again in my life. I will also never EAT cabbage again.” C: It’s not worth it. LYN: /villain laugh/ How is it not worth it?? It’s very worth it. You don’t know how much pain that experience gave me. For the first time I felt like I was very “菜” (cai = poor/weak). - C: Raffle it. LYN: I won’t be. /sigh/ Friends, what can I say? My fans, honestly, are very much different from everyone else’s fans. My fans are slightly more mature- they’re not particularly agitated. But for example, sometimes I buy these beads and after I buy them I don’t like them as much anymore. After you buy something, you might see something that’s even better and then not want the one you already have. I was thinking I would take one strand and separate it into three, then raffle them. I had really thought about it before, because I didn’t particularly like them and it wasn’t worth it to sell them to other people. But the thing about raffling that makes me worried is that the people who are not able to win a bracelet would then become disappointed in me. They’d get angry. LYN: Before, there was the vinyl. I forget how many copies there were- 8,000? And I said, “If you can’t get one, it’s okay.” It was a limited number- only 8,000. Then, because they were unable to attain a copy, some people stopped being my fan. The reason was because they weren’t able to get one of my vinyls, were unhappy, so they stopped being my fan. C: 8170. LYN: Yeah, 8,000 copies. C: The master skill of the jianghu- “quit being a fan and trash everything on their way out”. LYN: No, this fan didn’t trash things on their way out, they were just too expectant to get a vinyl. Later I saw that scalpers were also selling them. They didn’t have the number, but I think you could still buy them. C: Ning-ge, if someone did “quit being a fan and trash everything on their way out”, what would you do? LYN: I can’t find the words. I’m speechless.

C: Ning-ge, I’ve been admitted into high school! LYN: Congrats! LYN: You’ve been ADMITTED into high school? Oh- it must be a better-off school. I don’t know too much about it. You didn’t provide context. If you had said, “Ning-ge, I’ve been admitted to the best high school in my area”, then I would be happy for you. But I… went to a technical school. I learned how to be a cook. After middle school I went directly into a technical high school to learn how to be a cook. - LYN: But the other day I saw someone say something quite apt. They said, “Just because LYN has learned to be a cook, doesn’t mean you can throw all your pies at him and have him heat them and just wait to eat.”I thought about it and suddenly realized that yeah, they have a point. There used to be all sorts of dramas that would announce “Female Lead: ABC, Male Lead: Liu Yuning.” As soon as those three syllables popped up (LYN) people would start to furiously curse me out. “Is he worthy?!” “Why him??” Sometimes when I saw that happening I would sit there dazed. Then I would ask my studio- “Did I receive this script?” And they tell me, “We’ve never heard of it. D:” So what can I do? Get yelled at for nothing! LYN: It’s like this- first, they throw out a “Liu Yuning”- treat me as a skillet. Heat me up to 3000° and then throw the pie (the drama) on me. The want me to heat it for them. Then, they’ll say, “Oh, the male lead ISN’T Liu Yuning.” So people respond, “Oh, thank goodness. That’s fine, then.” They’re playing this trick! They’ve done this to me before. C: Ning-ge, it’s called a “dian bing ceng” LYN: “Dian bing dang”! Am I the cook, or are you the cook?! We’re different. We’re not talking about the same thing~

LYN: What’s happening- what are you people trying to sell under my weibo livestream?? Friends- please be aware- never buy anything claiming to sell you illegal videos on weibo. I won’t get into specifics, but PLEASE don’t. Other than female viewers, I’m sure there are many male viewers in my stream. If you see an advertisement on weibo claiming to sell you a video of something that you might be interested in, it’s a scam. They’ll use this method to steal your personal information to do some bad things. LYN: For example, if they claim to sell you a bunch of videos on a USB, you’ll open it and find Journey to the West instead. Or the Calabash Brothers. Tom & Jerry, etc. Just wait and see. That’s the first thing. The second thing is, there might be a lot of you in the stream who aren’t my fan. You might see, especially on weibo, people claiming to sell concert tickets. These types of scammers are common. I have a friend who was tricked. - /explains the whole process of how a scammer would set up the bait, get your info, then steal your money/ LYN: As soon as they’re done scamming you, they’ll block you. You won’t be able to find them again, nor will you be able to get your money back. LYN: If there’s one thing to remember: never give anyone online ANY of your personal information. C: I don’t have money. LYN: If you don’t HAVE money, then they wouldn’t be able to scam you, because you wouldn’t be looking to buy concert tickets (you can’t afford) in the first place. If you don’t have money, you won’t be tricked. C: I don’t have a bank card. LYN: You won’t be tricked either. It’s funny that you even put that out there. No money, no bank card. Why are you telling me this? If you don’t have money, then they’ll use your personal info to apply for a loan. XD

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C: Ning-ge, how do I hide my phone in high school? LYN: /laughs/ Huh?? Do you think I’m an AI, or what? You’re asking me just anything now?? LYN: You’re in school, but they don’t allow phones, so how should you hide yours? Well, most people hide it- How would I know?? I JUST told you that I attended a technical school. I didn’t go to high school. First off- I want to tell you that I don’t know how you should hide it, because I never attended high school. Forget about cell phones, I had to bring knives to school! We went to school with two knives in our backpack. Do you think phones would have been a problem? They weren’t. Two knives, a box of carving knives, pointed knives, u-shaped, v-shaped- I carried knives to school with me. If you ask me about how to hide a phone, I really don’t know. Secondly, if you’re going to school what do you need your phone for? You should be focused on learning. Don’t bring your phone. Just play at home. C: Ning-ge, you carry more knives to work than [character]. LYN: No! I was learning how to bea cook. It’s reasonable that I had to carry knives. C: What about the pot? LYN: When we went to school we had to carry the knives, but we didn’t have to carry the pot. The school has pots. We (the students) didn’t need to carry them. LYN: Also when we were first starting school, they wanted us to buy our knives- the very long kind. /measures with his hands/ The blade was this long, and the hilt was here. This knife is called a “sanhulu”. It was a very thick and heavy knife, because when we’re training with it, we had to strengthen our wrists. C: You really had to buy your own knives? LYN: Yeah, if you’re learning of course you’ll buy your own knives.  - LYN: But! I know as we’re learning we had to carry our knives everywhere, but it’s not like any of us would have had the guts to take them out. It’s not like we were walking around with knives in our hands- that’s illegal. They had to be in the backpack and we could only take them out at school. Also- to that friend who asked if we had to carry our pots to school, no- /sarcastic/ I carried a tank of propane with me. I carried two tanks of propane, in case I’d be cooking and there’d be no more fire. I’d go to school with two  knives in my backpack, a chopping board on my head, and two propane tanks. I look like Iron Man.

C: Ning-ge, praise me. I am 170 in my whole prefecture. LYN: Amazing. Jiayou. I’m sure you’ll be a pillar of the nation in the future. Learn well. Improve every day.

C: Ning-ge, did you do military education? LYN: Yeah, we did. Why not? A technical school is also an official school. It’s just that you learned math and language, so you can go anywhere without fear. While we carried two knives, and also could go anywhere without fear. It’s the same. The content we learned was different, but they are both official schools.

C: Did you have homework? LYN: Yes, of course. For example, if you learned carving in the morning- we had a lot of different courses: batters, frying, carving, knife skills, theory- safety and sanitation. Those are all the things we had to learn. So for example if we learned how to carve flowers in the daytime, we would go home and practice to turn something in the next day. It’s not something we can apply a formula to and calculate an answer for. It takes practice, so you’d buy a whole sack of radishes home to practice on. After ten or twenty times, you’ve finally got a complete on that you could turn it in. We would often have carving competitions, too. At the time, I held second place for my cohort. But that was only one time.

C: Wasting food. LYN: If you’re going to say it like that- you’ve lost the point. First of all, I think “wasting food” is a little bit exaggerated. Secondly, after I finished carving the radishes, we took the bits and to make soup. Are you trying to say that letting me eat it was a waste of food? LYN: We weren’t carving and throwing away the pieces. It’s not as if I was in the middle of the street and letting the shavings drop to the ground before returning home. Think about it- would a well-off family let their kid go learn to be a cook? Of course we weren’t well off, so when I finished carving we would dice the leftovers and make fried radish balls or radish dumplings. I would never throw it away and my grandparents would beat me to death if I tried. It wasn’t a waste of food. But if you think letting me eat it was a waste, that’s true. Because I eat a lot.

------

C: Ning-ge, if I’m under the sun a lot during the day, how can I not get tan? LYN: If you have any methods, you can tell me too. I also get tan. No one can avoid the sun. A huge sun at 40C is like… an oven. It’s an oven.

C: OMG! A living Ning-ge! LYN: ?__? What do you mean a “living” Ning-ge?

C: Ning-ge, will you stream on 8/17? LYN: I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to, so that’s why I’m streaming in advance. 8/17 is a meaningful day for us. It’s a holiday for my fans. I was thinking of streaming but I don’t know if I’ll be able to. That’s why I came today, just in case.

C: I want to watch The Truth S3! Will you still record for it? LYN: Probably. We just finished this year, so next year… we’ll probably start shooting in Q1. Variety shows are separated into quarters- Q1, Q2, Q3, Q4. I think we will record a S3, because this year the ratings were pretty decent. I don’t want to self-praise and say we did very well, but I think we did decently at least. With all things, if there’s an interest then there’s a higher chance of continuation.

C: Ning-ge, your “cold body” (体寒) is trending. LYN: My “cold body” is trending?? I was only making a joke. Don’t tell me there are a bunch of doctors and TCM practitioners lining up to check on me our of curiosity? They’d like to cure me? For a cold body, I suppose they’d put danggui (female ginseng) and goji berries in a tub and tell me to soak my feet in it? To restabilize my body temperature? Are the people who made this trending studying traditional medicine? You’ve made me a case, and won’t stop until you’ve cured me? Such is the responsibility of a healer. C: Ning-ge, stick out your tongue and let me see it. LYN: I… will not let you see it. I don’t want you to actually see something if I show you. What if I really am weak and you can prove it? How do you expect me to continue on in this business? What if I’m actually sick and I don’t know it? Even if you can see that I tend to get diarrhea, that would be bad if the news got out.

C: The middle hair is really so distracting. LYN: You’ve seen it all night already. But my studio even sent me a message telling me to move it, because they say it makes me look crosseyed. - /glares into the camera/ LYN: Even my studio is on me about it. - /moves the hair to the side/ C: This looks much more comfortable. LYN: Yeah, but don’t you think this makes me look a lot more naive/foolish? - /starts referencing a douyin: Hello, I have a hoodie. I want to ask online, if I wear it, does it make me look loyal. Like a big-eared dwarf?/ LYN: Who do I look so loyal after moving my bangs? LYN: This won’t do. I still need to make it look decent. /moves it a little/ Okay. This does not make me look as loyal.

LYN: I’ll stream for a little longer. I need to wrap up before 12a today because tomorrow I’m in hair and makeup at 6:30a. That means I have to wake up before 6a. So I’ll stop streaming, wash my face, sleep for five hours, then get back to work. Okay? I’ll stop streaming at around 12a. But first I’ll use the restroom.

------ break #2 

C: Ning-ge, the clothes that you wore the last stream have all been sold out. LYN: Oh, the T-Shirt? The fox one? (Nick Wilde, Zootopia)

LYN: !! There are still people spamming, “Ning-ge, stick out your tongue for me to see.” You must be sick! I don’t need your services! Thank you, Doctor!! Doctor, please rest early! C: Ning-ge, what should I do if I have rhinitis? LYN: Why don’t you get in contact with that person from earlier, who wanted me to stick my tongue out? They’re a doctor. They can check you out. See if they can cure your rhinitis for you, or tell you what type of medicine to use. Go ahead and direct message each other, I won’t be needing their services. LYN: Look at this, friends! It may look like you’re in my livestream, but actually this is just a huge public discussion board. Just now, there was a patient and doctor who were able to connect with each other because of it. I am just a platform. It’s possible that just by streaming today, we have cured someone who is suffering from rhinitis. Let’s congratulate this friend. 

C: /announcing that they got admitted into college/ LYN: Congratulations. You’re amazing.

C: Ning-ge, do celebrities drink water. LYN: You must be sick! I can’t stand you being weird like this. What “celebrity” am I? Friends, I’m just an internet celebrity. (网红 // internet famous) LYN: Everything has to drink water. Even horses and cows drink water.

LYN: Before, when I first debuted, people would fall over themselves cursing me out. “LYN, what “singer” are you? You’re just internet famous.” The fans at the time- the ones who have been with me from the start- felt bad for me and would rebuke. “LYN is not internet famous, because he has never accepted business proposals or done influencer marketing.” They would try to prove me worthy. “LYN has this song, we welcome you to listen to it.” etc. My fans would try to back me up. But now when I hear the words “internet famous”, I think that it’s a really funny thing. My friends probably aren’t as sensitive about it anymore. To me, it’s just an… an experience that I won’t deny having had. Right now I’m streaming- so what does that make me? A lot of celebrities have also started streaming- what are they? C: 轻舟已过万重山. (starts quoting Li Bai; describes the poet’s pleasure of going through all hardships and entering a smooth journey) (x) LYN: It’s not that serious! Its just that a lot of the time- - /trying to set up for an ~emotional~ moment, but is having trouble finding the track/ LYN: Where did it go? Where is it?! - /found it/ LYN: ~ Honestly, most times it’s like this- In your life you will encounter many moments that you think you cannot overcome. You’ll feel like you’re suffering, conflicted, and helpless. But in truth you’ll discover that when it all passes, it was nothing. ~ LYN: I’ll need to download this bgm to somewhere easily accessible, so I can find it faster the next time. Ok. I’ll open it quickly the next time.

C: Blogger, I would like to hear 寻一个你 (Looking for You). LYN: They called me “Blogger”! /laughs/ Oh- wei-BO, so “blogger”. I understand. Of course, I count as a blogger. So... if you want to hear 寻一个你, then I suggest you go on a music platform like QQ and search for it. You may listen to it then. Ok, Netizen? If you call me a Blogger, then I can only call you a passionate Netizen.

C: I got into the best university in Lanzhou. LYN: That’s great! Wow. I’m jealous. Good luck. Do well in school.

C: Ning-ge, in KSTLB which snack tasted the best. LYN: I can’t remember the brand anymore. Also, we don’t have any business collaboration, so I won’t be recommending anything. When they find me to work with me, at that time I will fiercely recommend their products to you. The problem now is that if I recommend them… there’s no collaboration. Forget it. Also, it wasn’t the best thing I ever ate- it was okay. I was just hungry after a day of shooting.

C: Give me a hint when the next time you’ll stream will be. LYN: I don’t know when the next time I can stream is. There’s really no saying. Sometimes if I wrap up with work early, I’ll come to stream. But other times if I wrap early I’ll go to record songs or do some other work. But know that as long as I don’t have something else to do, I will come to stream.

LYN: Our Director Guo is here? Guo Hu? Welcome. [SJYM Director] LYN: We’re almost done with shooting SJYM and it was really great working together. I’m sure that you all are looking forward to and will like this drama. I’m really looking forward to it.

C: Ge, is your English good? LYN: My English? It’s great. Amazing. Really. My old friends all know that my English is great. I can communicate with a native speaker with no problems. Absolutely none. Because I… don’t talk to any. I don’t want to talk to them. But I was the English class representative in my school. We were all learning to be cooks, but in my class my English was the best. Everything you’re typing in the comments, I can for the most part understand. Things like, “Marry Me” and “Kiss Me”. How shallow. LYN: Look at the English you’re typing- it’s also just so-so! “Baby” and “Can you kiss me?” It’s all this type of comment! Can’t you say anything more high class and professional?? Give me a challenge. Don’t just come here and “Honey, honey”- /starts singing/ - who wouldn’t be able to understand that? LYN: What is “go to sleep with me”? You want me to go die with you?? I won’t be going, thanks. “Sleep” is a state of sleeping, right? But once it reaches a certain extent, it can become “dead”. So “go to “die” with me”- thanks, but I won’t be. - LYN: Don’t type anything too long because… the comments move too fast for me to read it all. LYN: “I will only…” what? Some of you are also typing in Korean. 😐/sigh/ Korean… I know! -- If You LYN: See, I can. I know a little of everything.

C: Speak some Korean. LYN: What do you know!? Come on, someone who knows Korean, come rate me. What do you mean “speak some Korean”? You must be kidding me. Friends, let me play the original track. I’ll sing, then you can hear if I sing it exactly the same- then you’ll know. LYN: This English reads, “G-Dragon/P.K/Dee.P” [t/n: he’s actually doing really well… for the parts he can keep up with XD] LYN: That’s about enough. Isn’t it (his Korean) good, though? Someone asked, “Speak some Korean” but I sing exactly the same, so how can I be “plastic” (fake)? At the very least I’m made of carved glass, which is pretty amazing. C: You were just matching the shape of the words. LYN: /whines/ That’s not it! - /tries without the backing and sings terribly XD/

C: Taiwanese Minnan. LYN: For this, I have to break out the song- LYN: For any Minnan friends in the stream, I request that you please leave and come back after five minutes. Please leave, and after five minutes I will give you a call to let you know to come back. Now all that’s left is people who can’t understand Minnan. -- 无言花 (Silent Flower)  LYN: That’s about enough.

-- 爱拼才会赢 (Fight to Win) LYN: Maybe another Cantonese song, and that’s about it. If it’s Cantonese, then I have to take out the one I’m best at and most familiar with. My Cantonese is pretty perfect. Very standard. Let’s start with a slow song. -- 月半小夜曲 (Half Moon Serenade) LYN: Okay, let’s not play around anymore. I should sing a song well to end the stream. This is a Cantonese song that I like very much. Man yof you have already heard me sing it before. But my favorite- no, I can’t say that. It’s a song I really like. -- 无赖 (Rascal)

LYN: I’d like to thank you for tuning in to my stream tonight. Thank you for your support and for keeping me company tonight. It was great to have you, and I hope you had fun. Let’s meet again in the next stream. Goodnight everyone!

[puleosauto]

Wondering what causes car air conditioner to not cool? Call Puleo's Auto Clinic and schedule an auto AC service before the hot days of summer have arrived.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of Both Worlds (part 41)

Tw: not that i know of

Part 42

Vote below pls i will only consider first 21 votes

Yves effortlessly carried you out of the back seat and placed you onto the wheelchair.

You gaped at everything while Yves closed his car door.

It's a stylish and minimalistic house with two floors. You like its modern architecture with sharp edges and boxy shapes, the walls and roofs are painted with black or various shades of grey.

It's much smaller than his neighbors who boast their colossal mansions and manors. Even if each owned land is similar in size, Yves's vicinity appears larger by tenfold due to how little he built. You saw some lawns even have a helipad, all other houses had a swimming pool of some sort and a garage that was as big as a shopping mall's parking lot.

Yves had none of that. It was just a relatively boring, regular sized luxury house. And with a small garden and a garage that fits a maximum of two cars.

You think he wanted you to look around, that is why he parked outside instead. His home looked... out of place. Not because he appears poor due to his lack of excessiveness, but it almost seems like he's hiding something from his equally wealthy neighbors.

Because how else is he able to secure housing in a neighbourhood that appears to accommodate multi billionaires? Yves has to be rich, but he refuses to show it, going against the norm. Is that not social suicide for the wealthy?

He lifts the brakes off your chair and pushes you towards the entrance. It's just a plain, singular door with no grand carvings. There is a metal gate that he had to unlock before accessing the next barrier, though. But it felt bizarre how there isn't some complex security system. Just a surveillance camera and two keyholes.

"Welcome to the place I call home, my love." Said Yves as he wheeled you inside.

His home is breathtaking. A dramatic, gothic interior design complete with a giant chandelier emitting soft, golden light. Black, greys, burgundy, ecru and browns were all you could see. It is exactly like the ones you would see in high end magazines, the epitome of opulence.

He has a brick fireplace that isn't lit, but upon further inspection, it's more of a glass box- an electronic fireplace that replaced the need for gas, wood or an actual fire. It's obviously not lit at the moment due to the scorching weather.

The lighting is nothing like you imagined, illuminance came from slender, golden lamps that glowed pleasantly. It's never too bright or dim, it felt perfect.

The windows quadruple your height and the blinds block natural outside light so much that you thought they were part of the walls, it's ridiculously spacious for its exterior. It was as if Yves managed to stuff an entire plane hangar into a little room.

It's cool inside, but not freezing. You couldn't find the air conditioner anywhere, you wonder where the cold air is coming from. No visible vents nor openings in the walls.

You picked up a nice, citrusy and vaguely floral smell with a clear note of sandalwood. It's very mild, almost unnoticeable if one were to be absentminded. But the general fragrance of his home fits the theme, sophisticated and seductive, yet enigmatic. You have no idea where the smell is coming from, seeing that there isn't an air freshener nearby.

It's so surreal to exist in such magnificence, you're afraid to touch anything else because whatever your eyes landed on, you knew that it cost way more than your life.

You told Yves that his design is beautiful. He smiled at your compliment.

"I'm happy that you like my sense of style. As you will be living with me for a while."

You asked if the bedrooms are upstairs. To that, he said yes. Scratching the back of your head nervously, you asked if you could stay downstairs until your leg is healed instead. It would be tedious going up and down with a pair of crutches.

Yves pauses for a bit. He had to hold his tongue as he would have told you to rely on him completely for mobility. That wouldn't have sat well with you as someone who values their autonomy to a certain degree. However, he would have gladly carried you wherever and whenever you wanted.

"I do have a guest bedroom downstairs." Yves appeared disappointed. You ignored that and told him you would take that instead.

"Very well then." He uttered, moving you towards your new bedroom.

__

You're surprised to know Yves has already moved all your belongings into his home. So setting up your new bedroom only took an hour. It seems like he was under the assumption that you will be staying upstairs, as he had to bring boxes upon boxes down by himself.

You grinned and leaned back against your comfortable office chair, your wheels resting close by. The room is almost five times as large as your previous one, everything is new and maintained. The aesthetic is similar to that outside, but it's more impersonal and plain. You assume that Yves would want his guests to customize their temporary living space to an extent.

The bed is fluffy and king-sized and there is an ensuite bathroom.

Yves hung up the last of your posters before bringing his attention back to you.

"Use this if you need me." He handed you a key fob with one button. It's safe to assume that you simply press it to alert Yves.

"I have duties to attend to." He bent down and gave you a kiss on the forehead. "I will be in my office, is there anything else you would like me to do, before I leave?"

You shook your head.

"Then, I will meet you later, my dear." He caressed your cheek before giving you privacy.

As soon as the door closes, you open your laptop and turn it on. The sound of your dusty fans whirring filled the space, it was loud and unnerving. But what could you do, you're too stingy to use the $5000 allowance from Yves to buy a new one since it's still working. You're not going to ask Yves to get another laptop for you either.

You clicked a few icons and began typing.

Yves frowned at his screen that's mirroring yours. His emerald eyes watched you type "Room rentals for university students" in the search bar of your browser.

He adjusted his reading glasses as he flitted his eyes between what is shown on his monitor and the conditions in your room. It's slightly colder than what you're comfortable with, so he adjusted the thermostat in your room.

After a few minutes of scrolling through the listings, once the temperature hits a specific figure, down to the decimals, you immediately close the window just to open up your favourite computer game. Seemingly losing interest in putting your life back together and wanting to distract yourself instead.

Meanwhile, you thought about what you wanted to do as you level your character up. There is no doubt that living with others is much cheaper, but you really wanted to try living on your own. Especially when you probably have the means to pay two months of rent in advance already.

Living with Yves is great, but you noted the lack of bus stops around. The rich wouldn't need public transportation, they have their own private vehicles and maybe their own hidden highways. That means you couldn't move around as freely and you would have to rely on Yves to give you a ride.

You didn't feel comfortable with being that needy with your boyfriend yet. Fearing that he might grow tired and annoyed with your constant requests. He has work and other obligations, he couldn't be on your beck and call 24/7.

Unless he hires a chauffeur, which from your past experiences, it wasn't all that nice.

You remember seeing an opening for a studio apartment on that website. The price seems reasonable and it's a 25-minute walk to your university, so you could save on bus fares.

You wouldn't need to ask permission from anybody, well maybe your parents who are funding your education and living expenses. Maybe even Yves to supplement more money. But in the end, you're an adult that has the right to make their own decisions.

Then again... money. Well, you'll burn that bridge when you get there.

You thought about it, pondering what your next step should be.

[autoandfleetmechanic]

Wondering why is car air conditioner not cold? Call Auto & Fleet Mechanic and schedule an inspection with a professional auto AC repair technician.

[xsweetcatastrophe]

You Broke Me First

part 10

Zoe had every intention of calling him immediately... but she wanted to relish in this moment first.

The soft hum of the floor air conditioner, the cool air hitting her, cooling down the apartment at a fast rate. She might put on a hoodie! When was the last time she was able to do that?!

Zoe took out her phone and called Cillian. He picked up on the third ring.

"First date, and you get me an air conditioner?" Zoe said before he could say anything else.

"Hey, first time we met we had sex. There's no rules" He said, sounding sleepy.

Zoe smiled. Something about him bringing up ~that night~ made her smile. Maybe he thought about it as much as she did. Maybe he remembered more than she did. If that was the case, she was jealous.

"Well... thank you. You didn't have to do that. but I'm already putting it to good use."

"Well I would hope so, I don't even know how you dealt with no AC during these summer days. The second I closed the car door when I left yesterday I was on the phone ordering it for you," Cillian said. "Hey," He continued. "I also just wanted to see how you were feeling about today"

"What do you mean?" Zoe said. She was laying on her back on the hardwood floor in front of the AC with her eyes closed, in pure bliss.

"... the article and pictures are dropping today" Cillian said softly.

Zoe slowly opened her eyes.

It was to the point where she never hoped to be happy or content in a moment ever again. Because there was always something coming around the corner and kicking her in the gut.

"Oh." Zoe replied. That's all she could think. "Weird. I know what it feels like on publishing days. I never was on this side of it. Did she say what time it's being dropped?"

"Hannah said 10"

Zoe looked at the clock. 8:53. About an hour left before the whole world knew her.

"If you want to let anyone know... i'd give them a heads up" Cillian added. "maybe your parents.. sister"

"yea, will do" Zoe interrupted. Man, my dad sure would get a kick out of this shit, she thought.

"Why don't you come here and we can figure this out together" Cillian said.

"I'm not sure what is left to be figured out..." Zoe said, drifting off. However, the thought of being together sounded nice, she thought.

"I know... but, ya know that saying? Strength in numbers? I don't know. Just a thought. You don't have to-" Cillian started.

"No it's fine. i'll head over. Just text me your address. i'll get ready and come by"

"Don't worry about it. I'll send John" Cillian said, reminding her that they left their cars at the bar the previous day.

"ok, cool. Thanks" Zoe said, sitting up.

Cillian stated that he'll text her once John left to get her, and hung up with her to go shower.

Zoe herself stood up, hopped in the shower for a quick body shower, and stepped out and grabbed a pair of leggings and a Columbia T Shirt. She tired her hair up in a pony tail and grabbed her sunglasses and flip flops. She headed downstairs with the intention of waiting on the stoop for John. She hated anyone waiting on her, and she hated being late. She hated being an inconvenience; which is what she felt like most times, especially now. She felt like an inconvenience to her mom, and is convinced that if her and her sister were hanging off a cliff and she could only save one, her mom would save Jen. "Zoe is my tough one" she would tell people, and then sing nothing but praises for Jen. She felt like an inconvenience to her job, especially now. Donna knew her talent, and sometimes she feels like Donna hired her out of pity. She saw Zoe as a hurt puppy, someone you couldn't help but feel sorry for. She was a walking ASPCA commercial and Donna called the 800 number on the commercial and signed up to donate monthly. Zoe felt like an inconvenience to Cillian, who I'm sure didn't want to be wrapped up in something like this, let alone with someone like her. He could have a Victoria Secret model but nope! Zoe Parker for you!

John pulled up about 10 minutes later, and hopped out of the car to open the door for her. "Good morning, Zoe" John said with a smile. He had a smile that was contagious, she couldn't help but smile back. "Hey John! good morning" Zoe replied, sliding into the car. The leather seats were cool and she rested her head back against the headrest. "Did you have trouble finding it?" Zoe asked after he got back into the car.

"Not at all, I know this city like the back of my hand. And I have a very good memory" He replied, putting car into drive and pulling out into traffic.

The ride to Cillian's was only about 15-20 minutes. John pulled up to the section of town Zoe wouldn't step foot in.

"He lives... here?" Zoe muttered, loud enough for John to hear.

"Hey, he must be good at what he does, i guess" John said, laughing.

"Zoe, if you need a ride home, please let Cillan know. it would be my pleasure" He continued, turning around to face her and smile.

"I can call an uber John-

"No, no, they can't come through here. Just call me and i'll take care of it" He replied.

"Okay.. thanks John, i'll see you later. Thanks so much" Zoe said, sliding out of the car and making her way up the walk.

Zoe knocked on the door and looked around the neighborhood that banished Ubers. Big sprawling lawns, white brick curbs, wide quiet streets. Every house had a long driveway and most of the homes were protected by big spruce trees for privacy. Large old trees lined the curb, providing shade on the hot summer day.

I am so out of my tax bracket, Zoe thought.

Zoe was snapped back to reality by the door opening. "Hey, come on in" Cillian said.

Zoe stepped inside and looked around.

Did you ever step foot into a place and was scared to walk any further? As if one more step you take something would break. The perfect rug would crease. You'd get your fingerprint on something. Or you'd spill something; oh god you'd spill something red all over a white carpet. That's the worst.

Anyways, that's how Zoe felt. She looked around the foyer and looked at the connecting rooms. The room to her right had a piano with a record player against the wall, accompanied by a floor-to-ceiling record shelf filled with records. To the right was a formal dining room, with a dining room table and fine china in the china cabinet collecting dust. A winding staircase was in front of her, and just to the right of the staircase was the hallway to the kitchen, where Cillian was walking to.

Zoe followed him into the kitchen and was met with a dog barreling towards her.

"Scout Stop!" Cillian yelled, stepping in front of her to shield her from the dog.

"no that's ok! I love dogs!" Zoe said, pushing him out of the way. Scout jumped on her and almost knocked her over, excited to see her.

"Yea, this is what I was afraid of" Cillian said, pulling on his collar to get him off.

"No it's fine!" Zoe said, laughing on the floor and petting Scout.

Zoe hated people, but loved dogs.

"coffee?" Cillian said, getting up and heading further into the kitchen.

"Sure, Thanks" Zoe said, finally standing up once Scout was calm. She walked over and took a seat at the breakfast bar, wincing when she pulled out the stool and it made a loud noise against the floor. Great, i just scuffed his floor. It's probably made of italian marble, taken from the colosseum itself, it'll cost a fortune to fix, and you can't fix one, you gotta fix the whole kitchen, and i'll have to file for bankruptcy all because I wanted to sit down, Zoe's mind raced. However, Cillian hardly noticed. He was too busy pouring into a mug for her.

"it's gonna be... a little overwhelming today. For you, especially" Cillian said. "I just want you to know I'm here for you"

"I know. Thanks" Zoe said, taking the mug from him and taking a sip. "You have a really nice house" She said, changing the subject.

"huh.. oh. thanks." Cillian said, almost confused. "I've been trying to get rid of it for a while now"

"What, why? it's beautiful"

"reminds me of her" Cillian said, taking a sip.

"oh. Sorry" Zoe replied, wanting to evaporate into thin air.

"All good. People break up. I'm surprised she didn't want to keep this. This was her pride and joy." Cillian said, getting up and letting Scout out. "I guess it reminded her too much of me and since she couldn't stand the thought of me, she up and left"

"Thats... a little harsh" Zoe said, tilting her head. "don't' talk so badly about yourself"

"preaching to the choir, aren't ya?" He said, walking back to her and squeezing her shoulder. "You don't think i can tell when your mind is racing?"

"How could you possibly tell what i'm thinking about" Zoe said, her side leading against the breakfast counter. Cillian stared her down, taking a step closer towards her.

oh fuck.

"I may not know what you're thinking. But I know more about you thank you think. Like how you like your job but you want more, and scared to ask for it. You miss your sister. You feel stuck. You pick at your cuticles when you're anxious, which is at least 3-4 times a day" he said, picking up your hand off your lap and holding it, rubbing his thumb against your raw cuticles. "You want so much more, but you're scared to ask for it. You deserve so much more" Cillian said, softly.

"How could you possibly know all that from 3 days of knowing me" Zoe said softly, getting lost in his eyes. again.

Cillian smiled. "I guess I just...see you." Cillian said, squeezing your hand. Zoe smiled. there's those butterflies again.

And, in true fashion, around the corner was a gut punch to the stomach.

Cillian and Zoe were snapped out of their trance by their phones going off at the same time. They both reached for their respective phones. Zoe looked, and saw she had 4 texts and a missed call from her mom. She looked at the time.

"10:08" Cillian said. "Article dropped. Welcome to your new normal for the next 3 months."

Tags: @lau219 @@wolfieellsworld 

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

The 'Language is Stupid' Game

Okay, so, I've been rereading your Marvel fics, specifically the Peter-centric ones. And they gave me an idea. What if Peter is sleeping over at his friend's house---let's say with his two besties MJ & Ned---and poor Spider Baby has a nightmare related to his superhero duties as Spiderman? It's a pretty bad nightmare, and he jolts awake, very confused and scared and a bit freaked out. Maybe his friends comfort him cause they already know he's Spiderman and goes through a lot bc of what being a superhero entails. Platonic all the way. Found family shenanigans. Anyway, no pressure to write it! Had it on my mind and wanted to share <3 Take care, Asbod! – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: peter has a nightmare/panic attack

Pairings: gen

Word Count: 3205

Peter wakes up from a nightmare during a sleepover with Ned and MJ. After a few moments of let's-all-be-glad-we're-alright cuddles, MJ has a rather unconventional solution for how to pass the time.

Can't breathe. Can't breathe. Can't breathe can't move can't breathe can't move can't let them down acan't stop now can't fail can't breathe can't move can't move can't fail can't can't can't can't—

"Peter. Peter."

There's a hand on his shoulder. The hand is made of concrete. His spine is going to break. He can't breathe. He can't move. He can't stop. He can't breathe—

"Shit, get the blanket off of him."

"I'm trying, I'm trying!"

"Peter? Pete, it's okay. It's okay, you're okay, you're fine."

He's not fine. His spine is about to break. He's about to fail and he can't fail, he can't move, he can't breathe—

"Peter," he hears again, the voice quiet and soft in his ear, "hey, it's okay. You're okay. Can you hear me?"

He gasps. His chest spasms. His hand shoots out in front of him and hits something—soft?

"Oh, shit, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm—hh, I'm fine. I'm good. Is he…?"

"Peter? Hey, Peter, wake up, it's just a nightmare."

Peter blinks. He blinks and one of his hands automatically goes to his neck to try and loosen his costume, but he's not wearing his costume, he's just in a t-shirt and he's…he's in a bed? He gasps again, his throat on fire, and something swims into view in front of him.

"Hey, there he is," he hears as a face appears, "hey, Pete, you back with us? You okay?"

"M—MJ?"

"Yeah, Pete, it's me. Ned's…Ned's on the floor."

A blurry thing sticks up from the other side of a mound of some more blurry things and waves. Ned's arm, probably. Peter blinks. His chest is still on fire too. He looks down at his hand. It's shaking. Why is his hand shaking?

"Hey." He looks up. MJ's still looking at him like he's about to disappear into the floor. "Hey, Peter, can you—can you do one of your grounding tests?"

"Um—" shit, is that what I sound like?— "yeah, yeah, that's…that's probably a good idea."

"Great. Can you, uh, can you tell me five things that you can see?"

"There's a, uh, there's a blue pillow over there that has that weird scorch mark from where we tried to make bottle rockets with the Stark Tech, there's the crack in the ceiling from where we didn't know that I could jump that high, there's the, uh, there's the blanket that Ned's grandma brought us 'cause she thought we'd be cold, there's the watch Yelena gave us last week, and there's the, um…there's the charging cord you ripped apart when you stole it from that Zionist guy at the library."

"Okay. And four things you can hear?"

"Uh…" He closes his eyes only for his chest to tighten right away and they snap open. "Uh, I'm—I'm talking, the air conditioner's going, there's—there are cars outside, and uh, the uh—the light in the bathroom's buzzing again."

"What about touch?"

He fumbles a bit on the blanket—one, nice and soft—to get the charm thing Wanda gave him from where it came off during the nightmare—two, hard and cool to the touch—and then hesitantly reaches out for MJ. She takes his hand and holds hit tight—three.

"Okay, good," she says when he tells her, "and smell?"

He sniffs a few times and has to sniffle through some of the gross nightmare crying stuff. "Uh, someone next door's making pizza again and they didn't close their windows. And, uh, I think your grandma left the candle on in the hall again?"

"Oh, shit." Ned scrambles up and ducks outside.

"And taste?"

He licks his lips. Something coppery catches on the edge of his tongue and his eyes widen. "Blood?"

"Come here, let me see." MJ squints at him. "I think you just bit your lip. You're okay."

"Okay."

"You feel any better?"

"Yeah," he says as Ned comes back in and crawls onto the bed too, "yeah, I think—I think I got it. I, uh, I'm sorry, I just—"

"Hey, you don't need to apologize." Ned shuffles closer. "You're a superhero. You're gonna have shitty nightmares. That's how it works."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you guys have to—"

"Have to what?" MJ narrows her eyes. "Have to be your friends? Have to support you when you have nightmares?"

"I just meant that—"

"Have to treat you like a person who needs support sometimes because we're all human and we have to do that?"

"Okay, okay," he mumbles, shoving her shoulder with their clasped hands, "you made your point."

"Good."

He blinks a few more times, the phantom pain from the nightmare still wreaking havoc on his shoulders. Ned shifts again to get the blanket out from under him and push it on the ground.

"Can I have some water?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's right here." Ned reaches over and picks up his water bottle.

"Thanks. Hey, uh, why were on the floor earlier?"

"Oh, you know," Ned says in that way that he always does when he's trying to hide something and failing miserably, "just, uh, thought I'd give you guys some space."

Peter frowns. He goes back over the last few minutes until his eyes widen. "Oh, shit, did I push you off?"

"What? No, no…okay, maybe, but! It wasn't your fault and it didn't even hurt that bad. Well—the falling off the bed hurt more than the punch. I mean, it wasn't like it hurt bad, it didn't even—okay, well, I don't think I have a bruise or anything. Or—maybe just one. Just one! But it's not your fault," he says when Peter looks even more distraught, "it's not, okay? I'm not mad, I don't blame you, I'm all good. It's like what Dr. Strange said, right? I'm a rubber ball! Everything just bounces off of me!"

"That wasn't what he meant, I don't think," Peter says, reaching out for him too, "are you—you're seriously good? I didn't mean to—"

"I know, I know. And I'm totally fine. Seriously." Ned takes his hand and makes him fist bump. "See? All good, Peter, we're all good."

"Okay."

Outside, a car drives by and a cat runs down the alley, meowing its protest.

"Well, hey," MJ says, reaching down to her backpack, "since none of us are gonna go to sleep for a while, let's play a game."

Ned glances at Peter, who nods. "Sure. I like games. What game are we playing?"

"It's called Language is Stupid." MJ takes out her notebook and flips to a blank page. "Okay, everyone write down five songs you know that the rest of us will know."

Peter takes the notebook and pen with a shaky hand and writes down five songs. He passes it to Ned, who passes it back to MJ. When she's written the last song, she rips out the page and tears all of the song titles into individual strips of paper.

"Ned, where's your hat?"

"It's in the closet, hold on."

"Thanks." She puts all the pieces into the hat and gives it a shake. "Okay, everyone pick one. Don't show anyone else."

Peter takes a piece of paper, glancing at it. "Just one, right?"

"Yeah, just one for now. Okay, now what we're gonna do is put the lyrics of the song up until the first chorus into Google Translate a shit ton of times and then read it out so the other people can guess what song it is."

"Wait, why is this game called Language is Stupid?"

"You'll see. Ready?"

"Wait, hold on, I need my phone."

"Can you hand me mine too?"

"Dude, you have a Spiderman case?"

"Yeah, my best friend's Spiderman, I can have a Spiderman case."

"Thanks, dude."

"Are you two ready?" They nod. "Okay. You have five minutes, go."

The next five minutes are spent peppered with various snickers and noises of confusion before MJ calls time. Peter shakes his head, looking down at his results and Ned fully snorts into his hand while MJ scribbles a makeshift scoreboard on a new page.

"Okay, who wants to go first?"

"Me." Ned sits up a little taller. "You guys aren't ready for this."

"Bring it on."

"We are talking about insects. Words fail me I will say one thing We saw that today It was too far I came with your wife, didn't I?

I like it I like it It will be left behind One or two days."

"I'm sorry, you did what with my wife?"

"Why are we talking about insects? What song is this?" Peter laughs incredulously. "What the—read it again, read it again."

"That's literally—okay," MJ says when Ned reads it again—they have to take a pause about halfway through because Ned's laughing too hard to be understandable—"maybe we should be looking more at the patterns of the sentences than the words themselves."

"So it's a lot of short sentences that sort of repeat but not really." Peter steeples his fingers under his chin. "'I like it…I like it…' What was the ending?"

"'One or two days.'"

"Wait, wait, wait, no way, is that 'Take on Me?'"

"No fucking way," Peter groans as Ned laughs and nods. "How the fuck did you get that? And where the hell did the insects come from?"

"'Cause it's—well, I don't know about the insects, but the wife thing—the actual lyric is 'I'll be coming for your love,' or something like that. So if it went through a bunch of times and turned into 'wife—'"

"Yeah, MJ got it."

"Sweet. So that's one point for me…"

Ned laughs as Peter shakes his head and flops onto his shoulder. "Don't worry, buddy, you'll get the next one."

"Dude, this game is way harder than I thought it was gonna be."

"Okay, me next." MJ squints at her phone. "I think this one is easier than Ned's was."

"Oh, good."

"Ready?"

"Yep."

"Go for it."

"You are my light a desirable feeling Believe me when I tell you This is what I want

But our two worlds are different. I can't hold your heart When you speak This is what I want

Please explain the reasons for this. Not bad, but sad Please explain the reasons for this. This is wrong. Please explain the reasons for this. I don't want to hear what you have to say. This is what I want."

"Oh, come on, this is way easier!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, that's fucking…Backstreet Boys Brooklyn 99 song. What's it called…" Peter flaps his hand. "'I Want it That Way,' that one."

"Yeah, you got it."

"Not bad, but sad," Ned sings, "this is wrong,' dude, that's so much better than the original."

"I will have no Backstreet Boy slander in this bed, sir."

"This is my house!"

"Then you should know better."

"That's one point for Peter," MJ says, ignoring the two of them, "okay, Peter, your go."

"Alright, you two better get ready for this one."

"Bring it on."

Peter hides a grin. "Imagine you are walking down the hall. I didn't hear, no, I didn't hear any sound. "Easy marriage!" Happy marriage!" - But unfortunately he bit the poor groom.

"Did you hear the door slam?!" No, it's better to approach it with kindness and understanding. "Didn't you hear someone knocking on the door?" I ended the conversation. No, it's my heart."

When he looks up from his phone, both Ned and MJ are staring at him like he's grown two heads. He smiles and tilts his head.

"Well?"

"I'm sorry, I thought we were playing the Google Translate the lyrics game, not who can read the most edgy indie poetry game."

"What the—are you sure this is a song that we all know?"

"Yeah, you guys know it."

"And this is like—this is the first verse and the chorus, right, this isn't like the weird coda of the extended version that's only available on the physical album from 1978, right?" Peter nods, still grinning. "What the—okay, you need to read it again."

Peter reads it again. And again. And each time MJ looks closer and closer to hitting him with a pillow and Ned looks more and more like he's never heard a single song in his life.

"Okay, wait, can we get a hint?"

"It's one of the ones you wrote down."

"Me? Why did I do this to myself?"

"Ned, quick, tell me what songs you wrote down."

"I don't remember!"

"How do you not remember, it was less that ten minutes ago."

"It is the middle of the night, my brain is so offline right now."

"Pssh, what kind of high school student are you?"

"The kind that doesn't know what song this is supposed to be!"

Peter stifles a giggle. MJ rolls her eyes, throwing her hands up and leaning off the edge of the bed. Ned screws his face up and starts muttering to himself, probably trying to remember what it was he wrote down.

"Ugh, Pete, just read it one more time."

"Imagine you are walking down the hall—"

"Oh, wait!" Ned shouts loud enough that they all have to have an 'oh shit' moment before he continues in a stage whisper. "It's the Panic! At the Disco song!"

MJ sits up. "It's the what?"

"The one with the wedding! The poor groomsbride is a—wait, what did that change to?"

"But unfortunately he bit the poor groom."

"What the fuck is that?"

"I don't know, it changed itself to—hey!" He splutters when a pillow hits him in the face. "What was that for?"

"You know what you did."

"This game was your idea!"

"Shut up. Ned gets that point."

Ned's still shaking his head like he has no idea how they got here, which to be perfectly honest, neither does Peter. They exchange a quick fistbump while MJ reaches for the hat again.

"All tied up after round one, let's do another one."

They keep playing. MJ gets them all equally angry about her version of 'Rain on Me,' they have to have a full pause so they can all asphyxiate from laughter at Ned's 'Somebody That I Used to Know,' and Peter's pretty sure he should take a picture of MJ's face as her contact photo when he reads out Google Translate's take on 'Rocketman.'

"That's homophobic, that's what that is."

"Come on, MJ, don't you want the slogan to be 'We will kill you?'" He dodges another pillow. "Rocketman…is the only one here…"

"You suck."

Eventually, they're down to the last one. MJ has 6 points, Ned has 3, Peter has 5. Ned's the last one to go and if the way he hasn't stopped snickering is anything to go by, they're in for it.

"We are not strangers You know the rules as well as I do. So I think so You can't meet anyone else I'll let you know what's on my mind You have to think about it I won't give it to you

I won't give it to you I won't give it to you I won't make you cry I don't want to stop I won't lie to you and I won't hurt you."

For long seconds after he finishes reading, no one says anything. He looks up from his phone, still giggling. Peter is stone-faced. MJ isn't so much as breathing.

"Well? What do you guys think it is?"

"You think you're clever?"

"I didn't write this one down!"

"You think you're really funny, huh?"

"I don't know what's so funny about this one."

"I'm disowning you as my best friend."

"Aw, Pete…"

"Friendship with Ned ended, MJ is my best friend now."

"Aw, but the song says—" Ned doesn't get to finish because MJ throws a pillow at him. "Hey!"

"You will not," she continues, picking up another pillow, "Rickroll us via Google Translate in this decade."

"I won't give it to you, I won't give it to you—hey!" He grabs a pillow and swats back. "Stay back!"

"Oh, yeah? Peter, help me!"

"In the name of decent memery and standards for clickbait, I cast thee out!"

Ned squawks—and nearly falls off the bed again—before he manages to hit either of them with the pillows. The room fills with the sound of rustling blankets and the thwomp of pillows hitting things as the hat tumbles to the ground, spilling bits of paper everywhere. MJ's notebook is the next to go. Phones clunk onto the floor, someone's leg ends up over the headboard, and eventually the three of them get so tangled up in the blankets they can't even move anymore. Peter lies there, panting, still breathless with laughter.

"Hey," Ned calls after a few seconds, still heaving too, "so who won?"

"Oh, uh—nah, fuck it, I can't reach."

"I think MJ, you won."

She raises one arm and lets it flop over her face. "Yay. Victory is mine."

Ned and Peter golf clap. She flips them both off.

"Hey, Peter?" Ned nudges him. "You feel better?"

He blinks. That's right, he'd had a nightmare. That's what started all of this. But even as sleep tugs at him, he doesn't feel as though he's about to fall back into any sort of spiral. Instead, the whole room just feels…fuzzy. Like the way the house feels when you fall asleep on the couch during a party and someone carries you to bed. Like it's safe. Like he's just a normal kid having a sleepover with his friends and he gets to be tired now.

"Peter?"

"Yeah," he mumbles, "yeah, yeah, I'm…I'm all good now."

MJ extricates herself from the worst of the blanket tangle and lies down next to him. "You wanna try to sleep some more?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

"Ned, get up here."

"Coming, coming."

The three of them manage to sort the blankets out enough to actually get under them. Ned reaches over to turn off the light. Peter stares up at the crack in the ceiling, drifting towards sleep, when the best idea occurs to him.

"Hey, guys," he mumbles, words already slurring, "we should…we sh'ld play this game with the 'vengers this weekend."

"Go to sleep, Pete, tell us dumb ideas tomorrow."

"'S not dumb…it'd be fun."

"Only if Ned and I get to hide when the pillow fight starts."

"Deal."

[mariacallous]

If you’re one of the millions of Americans worried about your pocketbooks and the general cost of living, you might have picked up on some good news recently: Inflation has really been cooling off this summer, as long-sticky (and long-lamented) food and energy prices continue to moderate. Some economic indicators remain stubborn, however—and they aren’t likely to abate anytime in the near future, no matter how long the Federal Reserve keeps interest rates high, what tweaks President Joe Biden makes to his trade policy, whether corporations decide themselves to slash prices on certain products, or whether Covid-battered supply chains finally get some long-needed fixes.

Other, grimmer recent headlines help to explain why. Hard rains from a tropical disruption in the Gulf have been battering Florida’s southern regions for days, leading to a rare flash-flood emergency. Another batch of storms is swirling near Texas at the moment and could form into a tropical depression, according to forecasts from the National Hurricane Center. Even if both states end up missing bigger storms now, it’s likely only a matter of time before they’re threatened again: The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration predicts that the United States will see its worst hurricane season in decades this summer.

Meanwhile, the heat waves that have enveloped Phoenix are intensifying to the point that some analysts are deeming its latest conditions “a Hurricane Katrina of heat.” Spanning outward, the Midwest and Northeast are projected to get their own extreme heat warnings as early as next week, with energy demand set to skyrocket as people turn on their air conditioners. The country has already seen 11 “billion-dollar disasters” this year, including the tornadoes that slammed Iowa just weeks ago. Meanwhile, the already strapped Federal Emergency Management Agency faces a budgetary crisis, and sales of catastrophe bonds are at an all-time high.

Now, let’s look back at the inflation readings. One of the categories remaining stubbornly high while other indicators shrink? Shelter and housing, natch, as rents and insurance stay hot—and still-elevated interest rates make construction and mortgage costs even more prohibitive. On the energy front, motor fuel may be cheapening, but fuel and electricity for home use are still pricey. Auto insurance remains a driving outlier, as I noted back in April, not least because of insurers hiking premiums for cars in especially disaster-vulnerable regions—like the South, the Southwest, and the coasts.

Look at what else is happening in those very regions when it comes to home insurance: Providers are either retreating from or dramatically heightening their prices in states like California, Texas, Florida, and New Jersey, thanks to their unique susceptibility to climate change. These states have seen supercharged extreme weather events like floods, rain bombs, heat waves, and droughts. National lawmakers fear that the insurance crises there may ultimately wreak havoc on the broader real estate sector—but that’s not the only worst-case scenario they have to worry about.

Agricultural yields for important commodities produced in those states (fruits, nuts, corn, sugar, veggies, wheat) are withering, thanks to punishing heat and soil-nutrition depletion. The supply chains through which these products usually travel are thrown off course at varying points, by storms that disrupt land and sea transportation. Preparation for these varying externalities requires supply-chain middlemen and product sellers to anticipate consequential cost increases down the line—and implement them sooner than later, in order to cover their margins.

You may have noticed some clear standouts among the contributors to May’s inflation: juices and frozen drinks (19.5 percent), along with sugar and related substitutes (6.4 percent). It’s probably not a coincidence that Florida, a significant producer of both oranges and sugar, has seen extensive damage to those exports thanks to extreme weather patterns caused by climate change as well as invasive crop diseases. Economists expect that orange juice prices will stay elevated during this hot, rainy summer.

(Incidentally, climate effects may also be influencing the current trajectory and spread of bird flu across American livestock—and you already know what that means for meat and milk prices.)

It goes beyond groceries, though. It applies to every basic building block of modern life: labor, immigration, travel, and materials for homebuilding, transportation, power generation, and necessary appliances. Climate effects have been disrupting and raising the prices of timber, copper, and rubber; even chocolate prices were skyrocketing not long ago, thanks to climate change impacts on African cocoa bean crops. The outdoor workers supplying such necessities are experiencing adverse health impacts from the brutal weather, and the recent record-breaking influxes of migrants from vulnerable countries—which, overall, have been good for the U.S. economy—are in part a response to climate damages in their home nations.

The climate price hikes show up in other ways as well. There’s a lot of housing near the coasts, in the Gulf regions and Northeast specifically; Americans love their beaches and their big houses. Turns out, even with generous (very generous) monetary backstops from the federal government, it’s expensive to build such elaborate manors and keep having to rebuild them when increasingly intense and frequent storms hit—which is why private insurers don’t want to keep having to deal with that anymore, and the costs are handed off to taxpayers.

When all the economic indicators that take highest priority in Americans’ heads are in such volatile motion thanks to climate change, it may be time to reconsider how traditional economics work and how we perceive their effects. It’s no longer a time when extreme weather was rarer and more predictable; its force and reasoning aren’t beyond our capacity to aptly monitor, but they’re certainly more difficult to track. You can’t stretch out the easiest economic model to fix that. And you can’t keep ignoring the clear links between our current weather hellscape, climate change, and our everyday goods.

Thankfully, some actors are finally, belatedly taking a new approach. The reinsurance company Swiss Re has acknowledged that its industry fails to aptly factor disaster and climate risks into its calculations, and is working to overhaul its equations. Advances in artificial intelligence, energy-intensive though they may be, are helping to improve extreme-weather predictions and risk forecasts. At the state level, insurers are pushing back against local policies that bafflingly forbid them from pricing climate risks into their models, and Florida has new legislation requiring more transparency in the housing market around regional flooding histories. New York legislators are attempting to ban insurers from backstopping the very fossil-fuel industry that’s contributed to so much of their ongoing crisis.

After all, we’re no longer in a world where climate change affects the economy, or where voters prioritizing economic or inflationary concerns are responding to something distinct from climate change—we’re in a world where climate change is the economy.