#I prefer Books a Million's coffee shop over starbucks

[atherix]

As a fellow non coffee drinker, you gotta put the syrups in the Starbucks hot chocolate. I like Caramel and hazelnut but your preference may vary

Ooooh 👀 I'll remember this for next time! Hazelnut hot chocolate sounds so goodmmmm

[purplesurveys]

1154

[created by: joybucket]

What was the last thing you ate? We had adobo for dinner. I didn’t find it filling though, so I might get some of my mom’s bread pudding sometime tonight as a midnight snack.

What is one thing you're a hoarder of? Receipts, for no reason whatsoever other than the frequent nagging feeling at the back of my head telling me I might need to pull out a certain receipt one of these days just in case I get into any issues, so I end up keeping all of them.

Do you collect magazine clippings? No. I used to but they’re all gone now.

What rating do you normally give surveys? I just take them on here. I visit Bzoink pretty often but I never made an account so I haven’t been able to rate the surveys I’ve taken.

Name someone you wish acted the way he/she used to. I wanna say Gab, but she’s better off figuring out who she wants to be and is meant to be for now. Otherwise, I don’t really have an answer to this; all the people I know are pretty dang fantastic.

Have you ever worked in food service? No.

What was your favorite job that you've had? I’ve only had one job, and I definitely can’t complain about it.

Does your stomach hurt currently? Nope. I’m actually on day 2 of my period, but fortunately the pain really ever only takes place on day 1 for me. The rest of my period usually goes smoothly.

What's one medication condition that you have? I don’t have any. I have one medical condition – scoliosis – but I don’t take any medication for it.

Do you forget passwords a lot? LOL yessssss, because websites have varying rules on what they can count as a password – some want 8 characters, some want 12, some want upper case letters, some want a symbol; so even though I use the same password for everything I typically have to make 84954983573475 variations of them anyway that I end up forgetting.

What is the most you've ever weighed? Not sure, maybe a little over 100 lbs.

Do you plan your wedding on Pinterest? No, I never understood how Pinterest worked :/ I lasted all of 5 minutes on there until I felt bored.

Would you want your first child to be a girl or a boy? I’d love a girl.

Who are the cutest babies on Facebook? The Song triplets will always be babies to me, no matter how big they get.

Do you refer to coral as pink, orange, salmon, or coral? Those are four different colors/shades that you’ve just named right there.... < Lmaooooooo same thoughts. I would just call it coral because that’s what it is.

Name someone whom you wish would apologize to you. I have a name in mind and you guys already know who it is. I’m at peace regardless if I get an apology or not (I definitely won’t), though – and I count that as a win. It’s absolutely batshit insane that I never heard one apology but instead got a million “Can’t you give me credit for trying?” I can’t help but chuckle every time I take myself back to those moments. Thankful I got out of there :)

Do you own a record player? I don’t, but I’d love to have one.

Do you have many regrets? No.

Do you wish your regrets would stop coming back to haunt you? I don’t have a lot of them, so I don’t let them bother me to begin with.

Have you had any regrets in the past week? Can’t say I’ve had any.

What do you not know how to say no to? Requests/favors. I’m a people pleaser through and through.

Have you ever been mad at God? Yup, that’s why I let go of religion at a very young age. I was going through shit no kid should’ve been going through and the idea that some deity is making it happen because it was supposed to encourage me have more faith was utterly stupid. I had no problem disowning whatever god I was desperately trying to latch on to by the time I was 10.

If you don't have a car, do you feel like you're missing out? I have a car. I don’t own it, but it was designated for me.

What is your favorite cousin's name? Jereth. I keep forgetting where they got his name from, but it was from like a German movie or something like that.

Who do you wish were your best friend? Hayley Williams.

Would you ever consider moving to L.A.? Never. Just never seemed like my kind of city. Not to mention the amount of Asian/Asian-American hate crimes I’ve been hearing about recently. The US is undeniably out of my list of places I’d want to step foot in, much less live in.

List 5 other names that start with the same letter of your name. Rhiannon, Riley, Rocky, Rachel, and Russell.

Have you ever known anyone who's name started with a "Y"? Yes, I went to college with a girl named Yumi. Yanna is also still a good friend of mine and we catch up every once in a while.

^If yes, what was it? Oops, mentioned them already. There are also a couple more Y people I know but I’m not close to them nor are we in the same social groups, so idk how to classify them. 

Did you hear laurel or yanny? It’s been a while since I let myself get carried away by that ~meme, but I think I heard yanny.

Owls or penguins? Penguins. But owls are great too.

What is your go-to comfort food? Probably something with grease that is fried. < This is an awesome answer. Right now though, I’ve been frequently getting spicy tuna salad every Friday to reward myself after a work week.

What is the best coffee shop in your town? Tim Hortons. < Tim Hortons is greeeeaaaat, but all the branches are in Metro Manila and not at all near me :( That said, my pick would probs be Starbucks. There’s a new local coffee shop where I live called Ghost Coffee and I had been meaning to check it out, but quarantine part two happened.

Do you prefer Pinterest or Tumblr? Tumblr, but then again don’t they have different features and purposes?

Do you think blonde is the best hair color? No.

In your opinion, what is the best hair color? I don’t think that there really is a “best” hair color... < Same. Tbh I’ve noticed that I only ever get attracted to brunettes, but I don’t think that necessarily makes it the best hair color.

If applicable, what is the name of your YouTube channel? I think it’s just my name since my account is linked to my Google.

Do you wear glasses? Yes, but I haven’t worn mine in a while since one of the legs snapped. I’ve been managing well without it, but I plan on getting a new pair soon. At least as soon as I grow the pussy to book an appointment HAHA

What's one nickname you have? Leigh calls me Robs. It’s not my favorite, but Leigh is like a sister to me so she’s the only person permitted to call me such.

What's one thing you miss? Being in crowded places and living in those moments.

Do you have a favorite spot in church? I hate being at a church; but to answer this, my very enthusiastic mom used to always pick the very front and center row for our family to sit at, so you can imagine how glad I am not to have to do this anymore because of Covid :)))

Who was the biggest bully in your high school? Bullies stopped being a thing in high school. All the friend groups just minded their own business for the most part, ours included.

Which news story has still stuck with you years later, and why? Manila hostage crisis. It was really scary and the fact that the entire thing was being streamed live on the evening news at a time when livestreaming was still a fairly unfamiliar concept made it even more unsettling.

Have you ever REALLY had a celebrity crush? On Kristen Stewart and Kate Winslet, yep. These days my eyes are on Kim Seon Ho hahaha, and I also feel a future crush on BTS’ Jungkook coming through.

Did you ever have to wear a school uniform? From preschool to high school. Didn’t have to anymore once I started college.

Do you collect washi tape? No. I neverrrrrrr saw the big deal, but then again I’m probably just not craftsy enough to see the point lmao.

Tell me something random that happened to you today. I took an afternoon nap for the first time in many months, and I woke up feeling completely disheveled and confused about the day and time. It’s been a while since I got that sensation and I did not miss it.

If you're a girl, are you on your period? I am, actually.

Are there any balloons in the room you're in right now? Yeah, the balloons we had set up for my dad for his 50th birthday celebration are surprisingly still alive. We originally had them in our accommodation in Tagaytay, but we brought the balloons home and put them up on the 2nd floor corridor, and they’re still all up there.

Do you have the windows open? I do, because the wind is actually pretty chilly tonight. I’m even wearing a hoodie in freaking April, which never happens.

What's one good name for a new puppy? Depends on their personality. It took hours for us to name Cooper, so it wouldn’t be easy to think of a name for a puppy I’ve never even met.

Would you collect antiques if you were rich? Depends on what kind, but yeah, I might consider it.

Did you dream last night? Yes.

Do you forget dreams or remember them? (or do you not dream?) I remember them in the first few minutes of waking up, but my memories of them gradually fizzle out throughout the day.

What color is your phone? Black.

Do you often have your phone on vibrate? Yes, because I often have meetings and it’s a big nuisance whenever there’s a ringtone that chimes in the middle of one.

Name something that gives you headaches. Working in front of the laptop for too long.

Do you have a secret hiding spot? My car, sometimes.

Have you ever lived in a place that had a secret passageway? Nope.

Did you play with legos as a kid? Yes, but I was never too imaginative for it. I just liked making tall towers and then dismantling them right after.

If applicable, what color is the rim of your bedroom mirror? White.

Can you be scatterbrained? Sure.

[nosdreamsrp]

                     › THE MEMBER GROUPS

The member groups found on nostalgic dreams are based on popular fashion brands that you see many wearing on social media. We have four different tiers ( standard, premium, elite & diamond ) and each tier has four different brands within it. Down below you will find our sixteen member groups with traits and simple aesthetics so everyone has an easy fit for their characters!

standard member groups

quirky › uncouth › curious › forgetful

skateboarding or skating in free time › late nights on the beach › blastoff by internet music › chain smoking cigarettes › dirty and torn vans › messy hair › monster energy drinks › winged eyeliner › choppy bangs › sunflower by post malone › white tees x denim jeans › cliff diving at night › bucket hats › cross body fanny packs › reflective colors › flower snapchat filter › sleeping through alarms › fades into the background

irrational › playful › mischievous › bold

strong cologne and perfume › baby showers › strappy heels › bad and boujee by migos › gold grills › natural makeup › straight hair › timberland boots › late night breakfast spots › red hues for accents › suede material › hennessy black › denim x neutral colors › kickback with friends › at fault by medasin & felly › patterns › frappes from starbucks › broken promises › curiosity killed the cat › not so trusting

socially aware › lazy › adventurous › fanatical

all white attire › eating cereal for dinner › going shopping with friends › setting multiple alarms › red bull and vodka › curly hair › frequent visits to art galleries › hoodies and cargos › yamborghini high by a$ap mob › sight-seeing for photo-ops › simple jewelry › hot girl bummer by blackbear › wispy lashes › gold caps › amusement parks on the weekend › rhetorical questions › always the peace makers › cool and comfortable

bourgeoisie › idealistic › know-it-all › persistent

picnics in the park › always has an opinion about something › good as hell by lizzo › chunky sneakers › braided pony-tails › attends charity events › always has a plan › text back in 2 to 3 business days › blazers and combat boots › blurred lines by robin thicke › coffee in the morning › dark hues of color › too smart for their own good › obsessed with coordinating › lover of vanilla scents › minimalistic jewelry

premium member groups

optimistic › selfish › discreet › inconsistent

oversized tees › inconsistent actions › hustle & flow by zaehd & ceo › reads newspaper comics › caffeine over sleep › cross-body bags › social loners › too cool for school › walking snapple facts › where’s my juul?? by full tac & lil mariko › layers clothing › black as an accent › love the smell of flowers › rolled up jeans x thick socks › triple texters › tiny sunglasses › lover of music festivals › fishnet material

manipulative › go-getters › frivolous › spontaneous

clubbing on the weekends › flashing cash in pictures › designer from head to toe › said sum by moneybagg yo › headband accessories › bright color accents › quick money schemes › night owls › face tattoos › oversleeping in the mornings › imma by bbno$ & lentra › prefers facetime over phone calls › silk & satin material › always in large crowds › woodsy and earthy scents › overflow of gold jewelry

nature-focused › oversensitive › cautious › self-indulgent

bonfires on the beach › loose and flowy clothing › too many pillows on the bed › rollin by calvin harris, future and khalid › early nights & mornings › organized planners and journals › brunch on the weekends › straw and fringe material › tiny handbags › vacationing on islands › coffee bean by zaniah › bitter and zesty flavors › beach curls or waves › green is serene › million dollar smiles › dewy skin

temperamental › confident › melodramatic › witty

flavored swishers › jewelry anklets › basketball and football › loads of unread messages › fresh hairstyles › sum 2 prove by lil baby › late night drives › hip hop music on repeat › gamer heads › always texting, never calling › vodka drinkers › durags and dad caps › whats poppin by jack harlow › sleeping in on weekends › wears sunglasses inside › life of the party › knock knock jokes › wake and bakes

elite member groups

whimsical › spoiled › empathetic › irresponsible

their way or the highway › falling asleep on the phone › indecisive about life › dunkin donuts over starbucks › dior by pop smoke › lace and mesh material › 90’s aesthetics › dramatic lashes › easily persuaded › cluttered spaces › layered chains › what they want by russ › takeout over cooking › has a hard time fitting in › mixed prints and patterns › has to be center of attention › silk scarves › floral parfum

judgmental › traditional › evasive › diplomatic

online shopping › distressed jeans › astrology lover › minimalistic vibes › enamel pins and brooches › chanel (go get it) by young thug, gunna and lil baby › handwritten love notes › more logical and practical › hot apple cider with cinnamon › leading the conversation › supalonely by benee & gus dapperton › monochromatic colors › frequents museums › murder mysteries lover › moral sensibility › prefers action over words

meticulous › inconsistent › humble › catty

lover of vintage designers › espresso shots › name plate jewelry › happy by pharrell williams › starts new things but never finish › autumn nights › loves meeting new people › works well under pressure › winged eyeliner › chocolate candy eaters › detailed oriented › instrumental music › cooler than me by mike posner › chunky and platform heels › sand between their toes › loyalty over everything

devious › persuasive › rebellious › flirtatious

take tons of selfies but never post them › bright colors › drinks with umbrellas › snake lovers › demons by drake, fivio foreign and sosa geek › ice cream sundaes › seizes every opportunity › reckless when drunk › smoky eyeshadow › moody by briijean › sweet scents › socks x sandals › drumsticks over flats › compulsive liars › teardrop tattoos › pool party throwers › color blocking aesthetics › impulsive nature

diamond member groups

charming › reserved › innocent › jealous

love diy projects › rom-com lovers › drinking water from a wine glass › my hair free care free › fresh scents › getting caught in the rain › pink matter by frank ocean and andre 3000 › cuddling with a love one › denim on top of denim › blushes easily › singing in the shower › watermelon sugar by harry styles › white button-up shirts › bamboo plants for luck › up before sunrise › mutes the group chats

scatterbrained › imaginative › martyr › resourceful

oversized sunglasses › hard on the outside but mushy on the inside › loves conspiracy theories › would misplace their head if it wasn't attached to their shoulders › mismatched clothing › why don’t i care by gglum › cancelling plans last minute › watching the sun set with friends › sticky and sweet flavors › prefers waking up in the afternoon › thrifted furniture › deep meaningful conversations › earfquake by tyler, the creator › brown and yellow accents

studious › possessive › mature › talkative

hasty when provoked › alternative music › collects artwork and coins › knows more than they should › dream catchers on their walls › read books at coffee shops › bloom by troye sivan › gardens full of produce or flowers › random dance sessions › animal prints › nitro cold brew coffee › parce by maluma and others › speaks in third person › leather watches › whiskey connoisseurs › watches the history channel

volatile › spunky › promiscuous › nurturing

matte black everything › monster by kanye west and others › hidden flasks of liquor › displays public affection › positive vibes only › hot summer nights › drunk texts and voicemails › less clothes the better › champagne showers › late night rendezvous › drunk face by machine gun kelly › full of energy › has an idgaf attitude about life › speeding in traffic › simple silver jewelry › mile high club

[singlethread]

you totally don’t have to do it, but every even number for the ask prompt?

You are chaotic but i have nothing better to do

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? Apple Music actually

is your room messy or clean? Clean

what color are your eyes? Blue

do you like your name? why? Yes because I like how it sounds

what is your relationship status? So fucking single

describe your personality in 3 words or less.  Loud if I know you, passionate, and caring

what color hair do you have? Dark purplish red like merlot

what kind of car do you drive? color?  A black denali envoy

where do you shop? Online right now, but normally my local thrift stores

how would you describe your style? I like mixing hard with soft, I ever tend to dress in blacks or pastels both mixed with whites. Also I will always be wearing weird dangly earrings

favorite social media account. Tumblr

what size bed do you have? Full

any siblings? 2

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? Just like in the forest in Norway, it just looks pretty and peaceful

favorite snapchat filter?  I don't use snap

favorite makeup brand(s).  I like Stilla’s eyeliner and also anastasia’s eyeshadow and highlighters

how many times a week do you shower?  every other day bc I’m not going anywhere, but I only wash my hair once a week

favorite tv show? I watch too much to pick, I’m currently rewatching Teen wolf so I’ll say that one

shoe size? 9.5 or 10

how tall are you?  5′11

sandals or sneakers? I like both equally, but in the summer I mostly wear sandals

do you go to the gym? no

describe your dream date. Picnic in a park where we end it stargazing

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? like 12 dollars

what color socks are you wearing? none

how many pillows do you sleep with? three

do you have a job? what do you do? not currently with school, I just pet sit during the school year for money

how many friends do you have?  irl probably like 12?

whats the worst thing you have ever done? gosh idk, I had a really big problem with stealing when I was little, and I was apparently good at it because when we got home from a trip to Canada when I was five my mom found like 20 things I had stolen from different gift shops skdfjkdsjfjsk

whats your favorite candle scent? Coffee anything

3 favorite boy names. (boy and girl names are a social construct so I'm just gonna do six of my favorite names) andrew, percy, oliver, anastasia, taylor, rosalina

3 favorite girl names, see above

favorite actor? I don't have one but David Tennant is good

favorite actress? Anne Hathaway

who is your celebrity crush? Halsey

favorite movie? my fave comfort movie is the princess diaries 2

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? yes, but I haven't had the time lately, and the martian by andy weir

money or brains?  brains

do you have a nickname? what is it? Lia or Emmie are my most used

how many times have you been to the hospital? uhhhhh at least 7?

top 10 favorite songs.  Im doing taylor songs: peace, daylight, idsb, komh, safe and sound, treacherous, I know places, haunted, my tears ricochet, and the lakes

do you take any medications daily? Wal-phed

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

what is your biggest fear? I wont have mattered to anyone

how many kids do you want? 3

whats your go to hair style?  down with my natural curls

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc), like a 1500sq ft home with a wrap-around porch

who is your role model? My college advisor

what was the last compliment you received?  “your ass looks great in those pants” from my best friend

what was the last text you sent? “yessss”

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? like 8

what is your dream car? honestly l love the car I have

opinion on smoking? cigarette: no, weed: I would if it was legal

do you go to college?  yes

what is your dream job? Small animal vet

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? Rural

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? no

do you have freckles? a million

do you smile for pictures? yes

how many pictures do you have on your phone? 15,230

have you ever peed in the woods? yes

do you still watch cartoons? yes

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? Wendys

Favorite dipping sauce? Ranch

what do you wear to bed? shirt or nothing

have you ever won a spelling bee? no

what are your hobbies? painting, playing video games, reading, and doing puzzles

can you draw? yes

do you play an instrument? yes, 2 mediocrely and cello really well 

what was the last concert you saw? the 1975 on dec 13th

tea or coffee? coffee

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? Starbucks

do you want to get married? Yes

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

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

what color looks best on you? I like blues on me

do you miss anyone right now? yes

do you sleep with your door open or closed? open bc cat

do you believe in ghosts? yes

what is your biggest pet peeve? toothpaste dried up in the sink

last person you called` my mom

favorite ice cream flavor? coffee or chocolate chip cookie dough

regular oreos or golden oreos? i hate oreos

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? chocolate

what shirt are you wearing? dbatc shirt

what is your phone background? A painting I did of Taylor

are you outgoing or shy? shy

do you like it when people play with your hair? only if I really like that person

do you like your neighbors? no

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? yes and in the morning

have you ever been high? no

have you ever been drunk? yes

last thing you ate? grilled cheese

favorite lyrics right now I want auroras and sad prose, I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet, 'Cause I haven't moved in years, And I want you right here

summer or winter? Summer

day or night? night

dark, milk, or white chocolate? dark

favorite month? May

what is your zodiac sign aquarius

who was the last person you cried in front of? my mom

[romvnio]

Since his return, there was little gossip welcoming him back. It was the grand entrance he’d craved, but even as he sat in that Starbucks, sipping a simple black coffee, bodyguards three tables away, no one paid him any mind (well, maybe no one but the barista who’d given him his coffee free of charge as she giggled amongst her coworkers). He almost preferred it that way. It was a significant change from the asphyxiation of the bigger cities. Regardless of where he went, what he did, the tabloids were always up his ass since the divorce. Picketers crowded the front entrance of both his apartment and his company building, demanding his head for the countless atrocities he’d committed. The prison time was always ‘never enough’. Even getting coffee was a feat as iPhones replaced human faces and gawked up at him as accusing questions resurfaced day after day. For a while, it’d calmed down as newspapers and magazines took their quota, but something always happened to regain their focus, and that was Roman’s intention. Keep their eyes on him.

Lakewood was a small town of around nine thousand. A mere handful to the nine million circuiting New York City. Some eyes were on him. Others were directed towards the other three, but he couldn’t complain. Since the arrival of the mysterious black vans, none of which belonged to any of the core four, it’d become apparent what was happening. He’d seen it before. Still, as long as he could remain out of the spotlight, the better. He’d settled the cup down onto the table, nodding as his brother’s mouth moved. He’d inadvertently tuned JJ out, but reading lips had been a cursed privilege in its own right. He tuned back in, the similar voice meeting his ears. Something about— the company. Expenses needing to be cut.

“Are you even listening? You’re gonna need to cut down on the amount of money you spend,” Julian reiterated, removing his glasses as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’ve hardly spent more than a million since my return.”

“The charities.”

“I’m not gonna stop donating ‘cause you think we need some extra coffee in the boardrooms.” He sighed, swiping the notepad he’d been scribbling on. His brows furrowed as he read. “You want the COO position?” Julian quickly took it back, dusting off his brothers invisible fingerprints as he gave an indignant cock of his head.

“I figured since— the former COO— isn’t with us anymore that there might’ve been a promotion for the VP in the near future.” He explained, closing the book. Roman nodded before shaking his head.

“Shit dude, I didn’t even think about that ‘til you mentioned it,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head. “I have to do some moving around. We’ll get Daisy on PR for the statement and we’ll announce it next week. It’ll give you some time to move into the penthouse.” He took a moment, thinking it over. “She’s fine in PR, right?” Julian simply nodded, matched by one from Roman. He wouldn’t move anything around for her unless she asked. As his eyes scraped over the entirety of the shop, it landed on one familiar face, a smile spreading across his own. He stood up automatically, collecting his wallet as he took residency beside the woman, the same smirk from the night before curling at his lips as he placed a hand on her hip.

“Let me get that for you, beautiful.”

[ @elisabethrinaldi ]

[as-was-written]

All the ice cream flavors

@theresastargirl​

Under the cut because there’s a lot of them!

Almond Chocolate Coconut: a touch headcanon.This Doctor isn’t especially physically affectionate, but it’s because her touch telepathy is extremely strong in this body and she doesn’t know her limitations yet. But if you stroke her hair she will love you forever.

Bacon Ice Cream: a "what were you even thinking" headcanon.She eats bathbombs. She thinks they taste flowery and nice. (i am surprisingly passionate about this headcanon i’ll be honest)

Black Raspberry Cheesecake: a sexuality and/or romanticism headcanon (romantic orientation, sexual orientation, etc).This Doctor is asexual and panromantic. With a strong preference for women.

Cactus Fruit Sorbet: a "this shouldn't work but it does" headcanon.She reorganised the library according to the colour of the books. To be fair it looks really pretty.

Cherry Garcia: a role model/inspiration headcanon.Her fam. Her friends have always given the Doctor inspiration and Yaz, Ryan and Graham are no different from that.

Chubby Hubby: a body image/self esteem headcanon.It took a long time for the Doctor to get used to her new body’s appearance, longer than she’d want to admit. All the curves and body parts that were new threw her and even in the TARDIS there was a lot of experimentation with clothing to see what was most comfortable

Chunky Monkey: a names, addresses, nicknames, etc. headcanon.The reason she is so chill about Graham calling her Doc when her first body wasn’t is partly because it reminds her of those first human friends of hers. Also character development in general.

Cookies and Cream: a family headcanon.One of the Doctor’s greatest regret in life is leaving behind Susan the way she did. She still has the shoe with a hole in it belonging to her granddaughter and she misses her every day.

Cotton Candy Explosion: a childhood/child(ren) headcanon.For a while as a very young Time Tot, Brax was her hero. Until Koschei came along and she found a new person to follow after.

Death By Chocolate: an indulgence/guilty pleasure headcanon.The Doctor loves chocolate of all kind, but especially sweet ones. At night however she enjoys settling down with a bar of dark chocolate.

Devil's Food Chocolate: a vice headcanon.This is based on the audio drama The Master so spoilers for that, but the Doctor managed to remember killing that boy when she was a child. She still has nightmares about it and it’s the one thing she won’t ever talk about.

Dulce de Leche: a happy/sweet romantic or queerplatonic headcanon.The Doctor’s favourite way to relax with a partner is to curl up on their lap and have her hair stroked. It makes her feel safe and secure and loved.

Elderberry: a hurt/comfort headcanon.If she’s in a relationship with someone she enjoys being cared for when injured. Not that she will ever, ever admit it in a million years. But it’s nice to be fussed over. 

Entangled Mints: a friendship headcanon.For the Doctor her friends are her priority. She’s happy to just hang out with them and wants to show off the universe. She just wants them happy.

Espresso 'n Cream: a coffee/tea/coffee-shop (AU)/caffeine headcanon.The Doctor adores coffee. She will be that one person at Starbucks who gives the poor barista a really complicated order though.

Fudge Behaving Badly: a misbehaving/getting into trouble headcanon.Even now the Doctor is constantly getting in trouble. In the Academy her teachers despised her because she and the Deca were always causing mischief and it’s something she has never been able to grow out of. She takes pride in the fact she has the record for most detentions in Gallifrey’s history.

Ginger Crème Brûlée: a gender headcanon (gender identity, gender presentation, butch/femme, gender feels, etc).Although the Doctor now identifies as a woman and much more feminine than before in human terms she would still probably refer to herself as non binary. She experimented for a while and definitely prefers female pronouns though.

Half Baked: a bad idea/poor planning headcanon.Although the Doctor likes to act like she’s organised and knows what she’s doing, usually she doesn’t. She’s been winging it for the last three thousand years and most of the time it’s worked.

Heartbreak Healer: a sad/angsty romantic or queerplatonic headcanon.The Doctor still has room in her hearts for every person she’s loved. Including those all the way back in her first body like her wife and Cameca.

Jasmine Peach Tea: a self-care/self-love headcanon.When the Doctor just needs a quiet time to herself, which happens more often than you’d imagine, she enjoys to get herself a herbal drink and read a book in the library. Either that or sit in the entrance of the TARDIS, feet dangling, and watch the universe.

Kahlua Almond Fudge: a language/words headcanon.The Doctor feels most comfortable speaking Gallifreyan. If she is on Earth she tries the speak English out of courtesy and because the translations are easier if she’s in a different country, but otherwise she speaks her first language.

Kiwi Midori: a creative arts headcanon.Disappointed she can’t play guitar anymore, the Doctor spent some time figuring out what this body enjoyed doing artistically. She soon found drawing. They’re usually sketches and she’s best at people, specifically faces.

Lemon Angel Food: a virtue headcanon.The Doctor tries very hard to keep to her promise of being kind. She is sick of being the Time Lord Victorious. She wants to simplify things and start again as just a friendly traveller and helper.

Lemon-Lime Sorbet: a sexual/NC-17 headcanon (alt: a secret(s) h/c).My Doctor is asexual, but whilst I was figuring out her sexuality I decided she would be a sub and have a major praise kink

Magic Mint Cookie: a magic/supernatural headcanon (alt: a taste h/c).I don’t know what to do for magic?? So I’ll do taste instead. 100% inspired by real events from Jodie, she can’t handle spices as much as she wants to. That won’t stop her eating very spic food though.

Masque of the Raspberry Sorbet: a fear/horror headcanon (alt: a costume(s)/facade(s) headcanon).Since being ducked as a witch, she has a fear of being submerged under water and drowning. It’s something she’s trying to overcome in her swimming pool because she doesn’t want anyone else to find out.

Neapolitan: an intimacy/vulnerability (or lack thereof) headcanon.The Doctor only really lets herself be intimate with people she has a long history with. She is a lot more eager to hug family members and old friends.

Orange Pineapple Whip: a kinky headcanon (alt: an eccentricity h/c).The Doctor is almost the definition of eccentric. Many people would call her whole outfit alone eccentric. She doesn’t notice though, and she doesn’t care. She is happy with who she is and that’s what matters to her.

Oreo Cheesecake: a physical health/disability headcanon.She doesn’t have any physical disabilities. The closest I can think is that her touch telepathy is stronger than other incarnations because they are the main sense for Time Lords.

Peanut Butter Plum Cherry: a soulmate/soulmate AU headcanon (alt: an unconditional love headcanon)She tries very hard not to fall in love with humans. Jamie was the first long term human relationship she had and losing him crushed her. Since then she’s tried and failed to stop falling in love with humans.

Phish Food: a music headcanon.I was discussing this a few weeks ago so this is perfect. The thirteenth Doctor is really into cheesy pop like Katy Perry and Taylor Swift. She also likes K-pop and J-pop. She likes the beat and rhythm of the music. She also likes how happy it all sounds.

Purple Daze: a stoner/drugs headcanon.In the Academy she would have ginger with Koschei (for anyone who doesn’t know, ginger canonically gets Time Lords high). The less said about those times at the Academy the better.

Rainbow Cream: a nature headcanon.If given the choice, the Doctor would enjoy spending the day relaxing next to a shallow river. That’s the most relaxing natural environment she can think of. Also a secluded beach.

Road Trip: a travel or escapism headcanon.Travelling is the Doctor’s life, it’s the most important thing to her. She loves the freedom it brings, the ability to go where and when she wants. She can’t imagine a different life style for her.

Rocky Road: a difficulty or struggle headcanon.The main thing the Doctor struggles with is the new sexism she has to face. Even the more minor things like how patronising men are towards her, literally and metaphorically looking down on her. She despises it and it makes her so angry.

SNAFU (Strawberries Naturally All Fudged Up): a mistake(s) headcanon.The Doctor really doesn’t like making mistakes. More than anything else she finds it embarrassing. And that’s really annoying.

Strawberry Rhubarb Crunch: a mental health/neurodivergent headcanon.The Doctor has PTSD definitely. Not just from the Time War but the many horrific things she has seen through her long life. I also see her having a Time Lord version of ADHD, but I need to do more research on that before I nail anything down.

Tennessee Mud: an alcohol, drunkenness, intoxication headcanon.It takes a lot to get the Doctor drunk, but when she does she’s giggly and affectionate. She will probably end up on your lap laughing at nothing.

Tuxedo Strawberry: a well-dressed headcanon (any headcanon about clothes).The Doctor tried to wear a dress the first time she had to wear formal clothing, but she just couldn’t with how impractical it was. Instead she prefers dressing up in a smart tux.

Vanilla Fudge Ripple: a strength headcanon.She has incredible upper body strength. She doesn’t get the chance to demonstrate it much, but it’s something she’s always had. She is also very emotionally and telepathically strong.

White Raspberry Truffle: a weakness headcanon.Daleks are her main weakness. They break down any morals she has set out and will do whatever it takes to get rid of them all. But losing her friends? That destroys her.

Wildberry Chocolate Chunk: a social life headcanon.She spends all her time with her fam. She tries not to spend too much time with other people because she’s scared of losing more people.

[itsallwearecalledtodo]

I never posted my short story! It features two of my beloved OCs from something longer I’m working on. It’s kinda long, so it’s all under the cut.

Dez was waiting impatiently at the bus stop on a hot afternoon, her stomach rumbling. She glanced at her phone. The bus should have been here fifteen minutes ago. She had already been waiting for half an hour, and the Starbucks across the street with its promise of air conditioning and food was taunting her. After another five minutes, she gave in and begrudgingly crossed the street.

As Dez stood in line, scrolling through her phone, she noticed her friend, Henry, sitting nearby. She was just about to walk over and say hi when she noticed something out of the ordinary–a white mocha frap. A grande. With whipped cream. On the table at which Henry was sitting. Alone.

Dez’s eyes widened and a small smirk curled across her face. I knew it. She paid for her granola bar and left without saying hello.

***

The next day, Dez sat across the table from Henry at lunch, dropping her backpack irreverently onto the floor. Henry was drinking the same thing as always: black coffee. No sugar. No milk. It wasn’t good coffee either. Even though Henry was, in Dez’s mind, a coffee elitist, he never drank real, good-quality coffee. It was always some nasty generic brand shit that smelled like dirt. Whenever they went stargazing, he always brought a thermos, a pot of hot water, and Great Value™ instant (Instant?? Really???) coffee granules. Dez didn’t understand why, other than the fact that Henry was just dumb about stuff like that–the coffee he drank, the books he read, the camera he used, the movies he liked, the flannels and jean jackets he wore (even on a winter desert night when Dez would be wearing several layers of jackets and scarves). To her, it was just stupid and made absolutely no sense.

It took Henry a moment to look up from his book, an old sci-fi book with a battered 80’s style cover that no one reads anymore. Dez tapped her fingers on the table, impatient, waiting to get to the bottom of her new knowledge about her friend.

“Lots of homework so far?” He asked.

“Nah, thankfully. How’s AP lit going?”

“It’s not really going. None of the books are good. They’re all from like a hundred years ago about stuff no one cares about anymore.”

“So, I take it you’re reading Moby Dick?”

“Yeah…” Henry grimaced and took a gulp of his nasty coffee. “How was soccer practice yesterday?”

“Oh it ended way early. The bus was late. And I forgot my snack so I had to buy one. So . . . I guess not great? I dunno.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Henry continued reading, thinking their conversation was over.

Dez completely ignored Henry’s please stop talking to me I’m reading attitude and kept rambling, “Yeah I had to go to a Starbucks for like the first time in my life to get it, too. The vending machine near the soccer field was completely out of clif bars.”

“You? In a Starbucks?” Henry jerked up from his book and stared, his mouth agape. He knew that Dez thought all chain restaurants were just another form of colonialism and generally avoided them. To hear that she had even stepped foot in Starbucks, let alone had bought something from one, was as if he was hearing that

“I know it’s completely against principle,” Dez laughed (even though her face was stone cold at the mention of one of her least favorite coffee shops) and pulled out her phone. “I saw something weird, though.” A playful grin developed on her face as she squinted and searched for the incriminating photo. Henry stiffened and looked puzzled. Her smile grew even larger as she showed the picture to him.

“That’s not me.” He said after a quick glance, then returned his attention to his book as if he didn’t even see the picture.

Dez was persistent. “Yes, it is. You’re wearing the exact same flannel right now. That’s your face. Your computer. Your backpack. It’s you. Don’t deny it.”

“I’d never drink that, and you know it.”

“Sure…” Dez rolled her eyes, her playful grin starting to fade as her frustration grew. “I know you hate black coffee, Henry. Literally everyone hates it.”

“The only correct way to drink coffee is black. You know that’s my hard and fast opinion.”

“I think you’re lying to yourself. That is you, drinking something that actually tastes good. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“You don’t even like coffee, what would you know?”

Dez sighed. “I know that whatever the hell you drink everyday smells like dirt. I know the stuff my little sister drinks smells delicious. Smell is a good indicator of taste.”

“Not all the time—”

“Stop it. Stop. Just admit that’s you and that you really do hate black coffee and prefer to drink basically anything else.”

Henry sighed, defeated. “Do you know what would happen if I showed up to school with a white mocha frappuccino?”

“Literally nothing would happen.” Dez laughed again, rather annoyed.

“My whole aesthetic, my reputation, all would be lost.” Henry slumped back in his chair. They sat in silence for a few moments. “I’ll admit that’s me, but you can’t tell anyone, okay? This stays between you and me.”

“Sorry, can’t do that.”

Henry’s eyes widened in fear. “Who did you tell? I need to know.”

“Uhhh well I sent this to Emma as soon as I took it so…”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“It’s just Emma. She’s your friend.”

“Yeah and she’ll have told everyone by now. Thanks for that.” Henry picked up his coffee and backpack. “If I hear anything about this…”

Dez scoffed. “Emma would never betray you like that! You’re just mad I wounded your dumb aesthetic pride. Come on.”

“This is serious.” Henry looked hurt. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.” He grabbed his backpack and thermos of disgusting black sludge, heading off to yearbook.

***

Several days passed until Dez ran into Henry again. It almost seemed like he was avoiding her. Finally, she cornered him in the hallway between classes. “Listen, Henry, it’s a new moon tonight and there’s supposed to be clear skies. Wanna go for a drive?”

She knew this was a perfect way to get Henry to talk to her. He didn’t have plans for the night and he wouldn’t say no to stargazing, especially with such perfect conditions. This would be the perfect way to get him to talk to her and for her to apologize (but only if he apologized for being a dick first).

“Uhh I guess so . . .” Henry looked up at the wall clock, trying to avoid Dez’s somewhat devious expression. “Um I gotta get to class. I’ll uh see you tonight.” Then he started hurrying down the hallway.

“I’ll pick you up at eight!” Dez yelled after him. I hope this works . . .

***

It was well past eight by the time Dez’s old station wagon pulled into Henry’s driveway. The sky was already speckled with millions of bright stars. The air was beginning to feel chilly, even though it was only late August. Henry began loading his photography equipment into the trunk while Dez figured out the quickest way to get to the middle of nowhere. Finally, all the gear was stowed haphazardly in the back. Henry swung himself into the front seat, carrying his typical grimy thermos.

But something wasn’t right. Dez leaned over the thermos and took in the wafting scent of–hazelnut? She cast an inquisitive look over at Henry, eyebrows raised. “What’s in the mug, Henry?”

“I put some . . . uhh . . . creamer in there. I think it’s hazelnut but I really just grabbed what my mom had in the fridge. It might be almond for all I care.”

Dez chuckled. “So is this an apology? Are you finally admitting that you don’t like black coffee? For real?”

“I mean, I guess?” Henry sputtered. “It’s okay? I mean I still like it but this,” he took a long drink from his thermos and let out a content sigh, “this is so much better.”

“I knew it.”

“You really can’t tell anyone though. This stays between us. We’re just that good of friends that I’m trusting you with this deep, dark, secret.”

“I won’t tell anyone. And I’m sorry for being rude earlier. It’s really none of my business what type of coffee you drink.”

“Nah it’s okay. You were just fooling around with me anyways. So, where are we going?”

“Oh there’s this small highway like, a half hour away maybe? Kinda in between our town and the next. Not a lot of traffic. There’s a couple spots we can pull over and you can set up your stuff.”

“Cool. Let’s get going then.”

They drove off into the crisp night, joking and laughing among the rich smell of creamy hazelnut coffee.

[kiwi-stan]

Harry x Love Languages

So if you don’t know there’s this theory I guess that there are five different ways people show love and like for love to be shown to them, so then I started thinking about how Harry would be with showing love and what I think his love languages are. You can learn a little more about them and find out yours here. So this is just a lil thing about that!

Quality time

With Harry always touring and jetting off to exotic islands to make his albums, you don’t get a ton of time alone together. So, the time you do get together is precious, and I think he understands that, which is why this is first. Harry always tries to make the time the two of you spend together special. Even if you’re just hanging out at his house watching TV, he’ll be sure to have your favorite snacks on hand or maybe even try to bake something special (because I feel like Harry can totally cook). His status as a public figure makes “normal” dates like dinner and a movie hard, but he somehow manages to make it work. He finds a little hole-in-the-wall diner that’s always deserted and where most of the employees are about eighty and well out of the demographic of his fans so you can still go out for dinner like an average couple. And he has definitely rented out an entire theatre so that the two of you can go out to a movie together like an average couple. But even that dates that are just at his house are never really just “Netflix and chill” he always makes them fun and unique. One time you had a scavenger hunt, sometimes you’ll bake together, pillow forts are a favorite of his, and he will totally have a spa night with you including face masks and manicures because fuck toxic masculinity. When you come to visit him on tour, he’ll always be trying to sneak off with you, and he’ll want to catch up and hear everything that you’ve been up to since he’s been gone. Even though there’s millions of things going on around him, his attention is completely on you and your is completely on him. After being apart for months, how could you focus on anything but your partner?

Words of affirmation

Honestly, I’m basing this off his performances of Kiwi on tour. Harry loves to be praised and loves hearing nice things about himself and he would always do the same for you. You compliment him on his outfit right before he goes on stage and you can see him visibly puff up a little bit and he carries himself with a little more confidence because he’s just received a compliment from the person that makes the most to him and that means so much to him. And he always returns compliments right away, like after you compliment his suit he’ll respond by telling you how pretty you look. He’ll call you “beautiful” and “gorgeous” to the point where he uses those to address you more often than your name. But it isn’t limited to just looks, because Harry isn’t shallow. If you compliment him on how much energy he had during Kiwi or how natural his banter was with the audience, he’d love it. Similarly, he’d have lots of nice things to say about your personality or intelligence or athletic ability or anything that wasn’t just looks-based. And this totally translates to a praise kink during sex. He loves to hear how good he’s making you feel and how he’s the only one who can fuck you like this and he still gets off thinking about the first time you gave him a blow job and how you spent a few seconds just staring wide-eyed at his cock before finally saying “It’s big.” Just thinking about the innocent look in your eyes and those words leaving your lips gets him hard. And after a bad show, the best way to cheer him up is by giving him every compliment you can think of. You would remind him of everything he’s accomplished so far and how amazing he’d been doing with all of his shows so far and soon he would be feeling loads better.

Acts of Service

Harry’s a sweet guy, pretty much everyone raves about that. He likes doing things to help people, and he likes when people do the same for him. The downfall is, he’s been in the spotlight so long he doesn’t remember when it’s like to not have a personal assistant, so lots of what he does for you aren’t him but his assistant, which makes him feel a little guilty. He hates how when you’re craving chocolate he can’t run out and get it for you without causing a scene, so someone else has to do it. Similarly, sometimes you’ll want to do something nice for him only to find out he already hired someone to do it. Once when he was on tour you let yourself into his house with the intention of cleaning it so it would be in good shape when he returned, only to find a grandmotherly woman already there, doing exactly what you’d intended to. Of course, this doesn’t mean that Harry never does anything nice for you. He is definitely the guy to rub your back after a long day or to draw you a bath (and either join you or give you your space, whichever you prefer) when you’re upset. And of course, since you’re not in the spotlight like he is, you can do little things like run to the Starbucks across the street from the hotel when you’re visiting him on tour and buy him coffee.

Gifts

Harry wears Gucci 24/7, so he obviously appreciates the finer things in life. But he also has more money than you can even fathom, which makes this one a little weird. He doesn’t really like you buying things for him, and for him an independence thing. He has enough money to afford pretty much whatever he wants, and he prefers to buy it for himself. And he’d prefer that you spend your hard-earned money on yourself. He also has very particular tastes, which if you’re being honest makes it very hard to shop for him. He would rather buy something himself and be able to pick out exactly what he wants than have someone else buy it for him, knowing that they’re spending time agonizing over what to buy and maybe not even buying the right thing after all that. You aren’t really into him buying you things for the same reason. His taste is too flashy, which he pulls off magnificently, but doesn’t really work for you. The only gifts he does like are sentimental ones, even if it’s just something little. One Christmas you gifted him with your favorite book, writing a little note in the front cover that there was no pressure for him to finish it because just because you liked it didn’t mean he would. He read the entire thing in one sitting, and one time you caught him just reading over the note and smiling. One time you jokingly made friendship bracelets for the two of you. You expected him to lose it after a week, the way you had with yours, but he still wears it all the time. And if you have kids together, when they’re in that stage where they want to draw but all they’re really capable of doing is scribbling? His face lights up every time his baby presents him with another piece of construction paper with unintelligible marks on it. “Very nice, lovie. Tell me more about it,” he says, and listens as his baby babbles on about the drawing, already planning about where on the refrigerator he can hang it because that means more to him that any Rolex you could save up to gift him.   

Physical touch

Potentially controversial, but I feel like Harry isn’t super touchy-feely. He’s surrounded by people all the time, so even though he seems very extroverted, I think he likes his space a little bit. He still likes to cuddle and he’ll pull you close to him when you’re watching TV or let you sleep on his shoulder during a long flight, but I don’t think he needs the two of you to always be attached at the hip. After his shows when he’s running an adrenaline and full of energy he’ll run off stage and immediately scoop you up and hold on to your for a couple seconds and he gets very cuddly after sex, showering you with kisses and pressing your head to his chest, because he can’t go from being intimate to not even touching you. But I think he likes his space when he sleeps-the two of you on opposite sides of the bed, maybe even facing opposite directions with just your feet touching. And sometimes when you’re sitting on the couch together, you sit at opposite ends. I think that between touring and recording and all his fans, he doesn’t get a ton of alone time, so when it’s just the two of you he appreciates his space and you respect that. But he understands your needs too, and if you’re feeling like you need a little extra affection you come and rub up against him like a cat and that’s his hint that you’d like a few cuddles. And I don’t think he’s majorly into PDA either. He’s seen the hate comments the people that he dates get and he wants to protect you from that, meaning he won’t even hold your hand in public. Even when you’re just around friends he keeps the PDA in a minimum, maybe just holding your hand or putting his arm around your waist for a little bit. And you’re perfectly fine with that, because the last thing you need is hate thrown your way on social media.

[renthinks]

Coffee Shop Romance

The small coffee shop hidden between the chemists and clothing stores on the high street was her safe haven. Not many people knew of York’s Cafe as it was family run and inconspicuous, and most preferred the Starbucks opposite. York’s was cramped and cheap, but the girl thought it homely and intimate - so what if the place wanted to save a couple quid on electricity?

Coming here after a long day was the best feeling: the warm coffee smell, the plain plush booths, the barely audible indie-pop mix playing on loop. And the coffee was great. Much better than the watered-down, overpriced dirt you'd find in chain brands.

What was best about it though was that they stayed open for hours. When she had first started getting her caffeine fix there, they would kick her out at eight o'clock, on the dot. Now they mop around her as she finishes her books.

This may be down to how much she loves it there, or it may be down to how much a certain barista loves her being there.

Oblivious is the only way the boy would describe her. She'd caught him staring across the shop about a million times but never once questioned it, just sent him one of her adorably shy smiles before returning to the book in hand. Most of the time the books would be different, but every once in a while, she'd bring in a tattered copy of a novel he’d not seen in some time and read it cover to cover in one sitting. That was what had first drawn him into her: she was reading his favourite book, and it seemed to be her favourite too.

From then on, he'd always ask her about the books she read and made a mental note to buy the ones she seemed particularly passionate about. He changed his shifts so that he could come in at four on weekdays and keep the shop open while she sat in the corner booth - same one every day - and sipped on her cold-growing cappuccino. He didn't even know the girl’s name. He didn't even care.

She had to admit that the coffee was not what had her head over heels for this little shop. It was the barista that was always working, and always catching her staring at him from over her books. To say she was interested would be the understatement to end all understatements. His smile was pure sunshine, and his voice was like a warm fire in December. When he asked her about her favourite book, she swears her heart skipped a beat. Or seven.

Sometimes she'll catch him using his employee discount on her when no one else is looking and he'll give her a wink and smile that says, “I shouldn't do this, but it's you” and her face turns an entirely new shade of red. She doesn't even know the guy’s name, she doesn't even care.

In the days where she stays in the corner booth past hours, he'll flip the open sign to closed and start mopping up for the day with her still reading. Once he's done cleaning, he'll go sit across from her, she'll put down her book and they talk long into the night. Disgustingly in love, but the only ones not to see it.

this was fun to write, a cute little fluff piece. i dont think ill ever actually use it for anything but i like the concept: two normal people with normal lives. definitely not what id prefer to write, but i enjoyed it nonetheless

[lalka-laski]

So, should I tell my worst enemy about her boyfriend’s cheating on her? In my experience, girls are unlikely to take the word of another girl over their man. Especially if that girl is an enemy. I wouldn't get involved.

What magazines are you prescribed to? None, which is sad because magazines used to be my LIFE.

Do you have any Estee Lauder makeup? Nope. You think I'm made of money?

Ralph Lauren or American Eagle Outfitters? A few Aerie things but nothing from actually AEO I don't think

What is an example of acceptable PDA? Holding hands, hugging, light kissing are all appropriate IMO. Glenn also loves to kiss my hand a lot and it makes me (and people around me!) swoon!

^ and, unacceptable? I guess really anything beyond what I mentioned above. Although I've been known to grab Glenn's butt in public, which he hates, but I just can't help myself!

Hair products you use, regularly? Basic shampoo & conditioner, and then my purple shampoo for toning about once a week-ish

Piperlime or Banana Republic? I don't shop at either

Do you have a crush on any “‘older”’ celebrities? Almost all of my celeb crushes are older. I love me some old men!

Y'know, like, Johnny Depp, Leonardo, James Franco�� Johnny has had my heart since I was 13!

If you HAD to dress up for Halloween this year, what/who would you be? Something clever I hope

What’s the scariest thing you’ve EVER done? Day-to-day life scares me, bro. It's all terrifying.

Essie or Opi? I've only ever used OPI

Have you ever accidentally bumped teeth with someone you were kissing? Mhm

Do you live in a big city? It's medium sized, I'd say

What is there to do, where you live, within walking distance? A few bars & restaurants, a grocery store... oh and a cool record shop that also hosts live shows. I've been meaning to frequent it more.

Who is your favorite person to be around, and why? Glenn. His presence just soothes me and lifts my spirits. And we have FUN together.

What are your parents’ names? Rick & Julie

And, what do they do for a living? My mom's a retired teacher and my dad's an electrician

Who is the last person that told you that they loved you? Glenn mumbled it this morning as I left for work

Are you laid back, or a go-getter? I'm definitely more laidback, to a fault. I kinda wait for things to come to me rather than chase them. That leads to a lot of missed opportunities.

Would you rather work hard, or play hard? Play hard, obviously. I'm not one of those people who feels fulfillment from hard work. I'd rather chill. And if that makes me lazy, so be it.

What gaming system(s) do you own? I personally own known but Glenn has about a million and five in our living room.

What games do you have? A million and five more. Well, Glenn does.

What matters to you most, right now? Aside from like, my loved ones and all the things I regularly value, my main focus right now is saving money and planning the wedding. And writing my book, although that will be a much more long-term project.

How do you unwind? Sleep, read, scroll my phone, just plain ol' lie down. What could you use more of in your life? Self control

Would you rather spend a week in Aspen, San Francisco, or New York City? San Fran sounds fun! Has there ever been a movie you couldn’t/refused to watch, simply because the leading role guy looked a lot like an ex?? Ha, no. None of my exes have movie star looks.

If Pluto’s not a planet, what is it? A satellite? I really don't know (or care tbh)

Would you rather be given a single rose, or a dozen? Either would be beautiful, although I prefer chrysanthemums over roses Would you rather have (as a pet) jellyfish, baby sea turtles, or seahorses? Sea turtles would be sick! No idea how I'd go about raising/maintaining one but...

Favorite Starbucks drink? I have a few I rotate through depending on my mood and my need for caffeine. Sometimes I like an iced latte (varying flavors), sometimes a refreshing iced tea, sometimes just a plain ol' black coffee.

Describe your room, in detail. [: It's pretty simple but perfectly captures my taste. Lots of pink, girly elements.

Head vs. heart, what usually wins? My heart, for better or worse.

Have you ever tried to “save”, or “fix” someone, before? I have but I've learned that it's not my responsibility. Yes, relationships are about helping and healing one another but it has to be RECIPROCAL.

What are you thankful for? My loved ones, my home, my health

What has been the best thing to happy to you, this year? Well this calendar year I'd say the best thing that happened to me was getting back to nannying my girls! God I missed them!

Have you ever seen a double rainbow? Mhm

Do you miss the summer, too? It's still summer where I'm at

[pinkwerewolfcrown]

Mohegan Sun Pocono Online Casino App

Owned by the Mohegan tribe of Indians, Mohegan Sun Pocono sits just off of I-81 in Wilkes-Barre in northeast PA, west of the Pocono Mountains.

Mohegan is a full service racino offering live harness racing in addition to a healthy menu of casino games and dining options.

A bit late to the game applying for Pennsylvania interactive gambling licenses, Mohegan Sun Pocono now has online sports betting and online casino products through the popular UK brand Unibet.

Mohegan Sun Pocono 1280 Highway 315 Wilkes-Barre, PA 18702 General Information and Hotel Reservations: 1.888.WIN.IN.PA. For assistance in better understanding the content of this page or any other page within this website, please call the following telephone number 1.888.WIN.IN.PA.

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Mohegan Sun Pocono online gambling overview

Mohegan Sun Pocono applied for all three PA online gambling licenses in Pennsylvania. However, the casino failed to act before the Pennsylvania Gaming Control Board’s (PGCB) deadline to receive a package discount of all three license types for $10 million.

As a result, Mohegan Sun shelled out $4 million each for three licenses that give them the ability to offer online slot play, online table games, and online poker. However, the property got a $4 million rebate when it decided to withdraw its online poker application.

Mohegan Sun’s online Unibet Casino and Sportsbook officially launched in Pennsylvania Nov. 15, 2019.

The Unibet retail sportsbook opened at Mohegan Pocono in late September, 2019. Mohegan followed that with another retail Unibet book at their off-track betting (OTB) facility The Downs in Lehigh Valley in early March, which proved unfortunate timing with all PA gaming shutting down temporarily for coronavirus precautions in mid-March.

Mohegan Sun Pocono resort overview

Today the sprawling property known as Mohegan Sun Pocono occupies 400 acres and 82,000 square feet of gaming space. The only possible problem for a gambler at this place is deciding which game to play. The seemingly impossible choice includes more than 2,300 slot machines, more than 90 table games, and an 18-table poker room, plus live and simulcast horse racing.

Guests wishing to stay overnight or longer don’t have to bother leaving the facility to look for accommodations since there is a 268 room, four-star hotel right on the property. In addition, steps away from the gaming action, visitors can take their pick of numerous dining and beverage outlets as well as enjoy such amenities as shopping, swimming, a spa and fitness center, and varied live entertainment.

Mohegan Sun Pocono is easily accessible by car from Philadelphia, New York, New Jersey, and Delaware. Complimentary parking is provided for 5,000 vehicles.

Alternatively, there are daily arrivals and departures by bus serving multiple markets. The facility is also less than 10 miles from Scranton/Wilkes-Barre International Airport.

Accommodations

The accommodations for guests wishing to stay at the four-star hotel on the property range from standard rooms to spacious suites. All rooms and suites come with the following amenities:

Plush bedding

Smart TV with bill review and check out accessibility

iPad mini for in-room dining ordering

Working desk area

One or two lounge chairs

The suites also include a coffee maker. All hotel guests also have access to the indoor heated swimming pol, business center, spa, and fitness center.

The standard rooms are fairly small, 328 square feet for a room with one king-size bed or 354 square feet for two queen-size beds. Guests who prefer and don’t mind spending more for larger accommodations can choose a King Suite (484 square feet) or a King or Queen Bay Suite (824 square feet) with a separate bedroom. The Bay Suites also offer an extra sofa bed and 1 ½ bathrooms.

Rates vary depending on the season, day of the week, and demand. Weekday room prices start at about $139 and run over $200/night on Friday and Saturday, except for the winter when prices are substantially less and weekday rooms are usually only $96/night and weekend rooms are about $150.

Hotel packages and alternative options

The following special packages are also available:

Preferred Suites offer

Book a suite for two or more nights and receive 15 percent off.

American Express complimentary room offer

Book a four-night stay at Mohegan Sun Pocono using your American Express card and receive the fourth night free.

Another option is to book accommodations at a nearby hotel. Among the possibilities are these partner hotels:

Woodlands Inn

Holiday Inn Wilkes-Barre East Mountain

Fairfield Inn & Suites

Keep in mind, too, that based on your play, you may also qualify for a discounted or complimentary room at Mohegan Sun Pocono.

Dining and entertainment

Regardless of whether you visit Mohegan Sun Pocono just for the day or evening or for overnight or longer, finding a suitable place to eat is never a problem. The numerous food and beverage outlets throughout the property offer everything from a quick snack to an elaborate gourmet meal. The full service dining options include the following:

Bar Louie

Winner of Restaurant Hospitality’s “Concept of Tomorrow,” award, this casual restaurant and bar is open weekdays from 11 a.m. to 2 a.m. and weekends from 10 a.m. to 2 a.m. The menu offers a variety of sandwiches, burgers, and other reasonably priced bar food items. There is live entertainment Thursday, Friday, and Saturday evenings.

Bargain seekers can take advantage of a special weekday $8 lunch menu offering both an entrée and a beverage for $8, or for $5 more, get an appetizer too. On Tuesday from 4 p.m. till closing, it is Dollar Burger Night.

Johnny Rockets

Mohegan Sun Online Casino

This branch of the popular national chain is open daily for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Mohegan Sun Pocono

Pacer’s Clubhouse Restaurant

This restaurant overlooking the harness racing track, features a TV at every table. It is open for dinner on live racing nights.

Rustic Kitchen Bistro and Bar

Rustic Kitchen has an Italian-Mediterranean menu. Guests have a choice of intimate dining in a private corner or grabbing a quick pizza in the Bar Café. The kitchen is open from 11:30 a.m. until 9 p.m. Sunday-Tuesday and from 11:30 a.m. until 11 p.m. Wednesday-Saturday.

Rustic Kitchen is also the setting for a live cooking show called “In the Kitchen” Friday and Saturday evenings at 7 p.m. The price is $60-$70, and reservations are required and paid for in advance by calling 1-570-824-6600. Guests are asked to arrive by 6:30 p.m.

Ruth Chris Steakhouse

This popular steakhouse chain is open daily for lunch and dinner with live music Tuesday and Wednesday evening.

Timber Buffet

This 300-seat buffet with displays of tribal history and culture is open daily. Hours of operation, meals, and prices are as follows:

Monday-Wednesday, Friday 11.am.-3 p.m: Lunch $15.99

Thursday 11 a.m.-4 p.m.: Lunch $15.99

Thursday 4-8 p.m: Dinner $19.99

Sunday 3-8 p.m.: Dinner $19.99

Friday 4-9 p.m.: Dinner $24.99

Sat. 3-9 p.m.: Special Menu

Saturday-Sunday 8:30 a.m.-2 p.m.: Brunch $19.99

Special reduced pricing is available for children age 10 and under.

Ben & Jerry’s

Open 11 a.m.-11 p.m. Sunday-Thursday and 11 a.m.- 2 a.m. Friday and Saturday.

Betty & Joe’s

This place is open all day until 11 p.m. Monday and Tuesday and 24/7 the rest of the week. Betty & Joe’s s offers coffee and tea (many varieties) and homemade baked goods.

Elixir

This eatery, conveniently located near the hotel lobby, is open Sunday-Thursday from 6:30 a.m. to midnight and Friday and Saturday from 6:30 a.m. to 2 a.m.. Starbucks coffee is available anytime. Grab and go breakfast items are offered in the morning, while the limited lunch and dinner menu offers items like sandwiches, salads, chicken fingers, and pizza.

Pearl Sushi Bar

Pearl offers unique martinis and sushi in an intimate, contemporary setting. Drinks are half-priced during Happy Hour, 5-7 p.m.

Wetzel’s Pretzels

This place is open 11 a.m.-11 p.m. Sunday-Thursday and till 2 a.m. Friday and Saturday.

Winner’s Circle

This eatery, open from 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. Sunday-Thursday and until midnight Friday and Saturday, is the perfect place to take a break from watching the races to grab a burger, hot dog, pizza, chicken fingers, or wings. Each day of the week, there is a different special, such as a slice of pizza for $1 on Sunday and a certain entrée item with fries on other days for $5 or $6.

Wolfgang Puck Express

Orders are placed at the counter and food is delivered to one’s table in a few minutes. Breakfast is served daily 8:30-10:30 a.m. The all-day menu includes soups, salads, sandwiches, gourmet pizza, and pasta. Happy Hour is between 6 and 8 p.m. daily, when patrons receive $1 off on all drinks.

Wok 8

This restaurant, open from 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. Sunday-Thursday and till midnight Friday and Saturday, features inexpensive Asian-inspired stir-fry dishes.

There is also no shortage of live entertainment at Mohegan Sun Pocono. Local bands perform every weekend at Bar Louie and at another bar called Breakers. Thursday night is Karaoke Night. The designated Happy Hours are 5-7 p.m. Monday-Friday and 7-9 p.m. Saturday. All drinks are half price. Sports fans can watch their favorite teams on TV, while poker players will love another added feature at Breakers, the opportunity to play online poker. Breakers stays open till midnight Sunday-Thursday and till 2 a.m. Friday and Saturday.

Additional entertainment options consist of the following:

Big-name performers

Performers such as Tracy Morgan, Montgomery Gentry, The Fray, and KC & the Sunshine Band can be seen at the Keystone Grand Ballroom. In addition, the 8,300 seat Mohegan Sun Arena hosts the home games of the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton Penguins (of the American Hockey League) along with some of the biggest acts in music.

Party on the Patio

Live entertainment and drink specials on the patio Thursday evenings during the summer.

Signature events

Through the Mohegan Sun’s special Signings and Sightings program, guests have the rare opportunity to meet some of their favorite authors, musicians, and reality TV stars.

Casino security

Who can play in the casino?

The Pennsylvania Gaming Control Board PGCB, rather than the individual casinos and racetracks, has the authority to set the minimum age for gambling in the State of Pennsylvania, which is 21 for casino gambling and 18 for gambling on horse races. Accordingly, at Mohegan Sun Pocono, no one under age 21 is allowed on the casino floor. Minors, accompanied by an adult, are permitted in the racetrack area, but only those age 18 and older are legally allowed to wager.

Security and fairness

All of the 12 currently operating legal brick and mortar casinos in the State of Pennsylvania, including Mohegan Sun Pocono, are subject to the rules and regulations of the PGCB. Mohegan Sun Pocono, like its competitors, is closely monitored to ensure that it acts responsibly in all aspects of its operation and continues to meet this agency’s strict standards for security and fairness.

Casino games

Mohegan Sun Pocono is a full-service casino in every sense of the word. Whether your preferences run to slots, video poker, traditional casino table games, or poker, this is a place where you will have no trouble finding games to your liking. This popular gambling mecca is also a racino, so whenever you feel like taking a break from the slots or tables, additional action and excitement await you with live and simulcast racing.

Slots

If you are a slot player, you will be right in your element at Mohegan Sun Pocono. If you have any problem at all, it will be in deciding what to play first out of more than 2,300 slot machines in denominations ranging from one cent to $100, incorporating the latest cutting edge technology.

This casino offers everything from familiar favorites to the latest variations of these popular games to some of the newest slot machines on the market. All of the Mohegan Sun slot machines use coinless ticket-in and ticket-out technology.

Some of the featured games include:

Monopoly

Hot Shot Progressives

Dragon Spin

Hot Hot 8 Bier Haus

Hot Shot Twin Fire

Playboy Club

88 Fortunes

Grand Dragon

Panda King

Britney Spears

If only the slots paid better

Some slot players complain about the smell of smoke. But judging by the infrequency of such complaints on review sites for this casino compared to other Pennsylvania casinos, Mohegan Sun may be doing a better job keeping the smell of smoke out of the nonsmoking areas of the casino. That is not to say that there is not still room for improvement.

That being said, Mohegan Sun slot players complain vociferously about the machines being too tight. It really doesn’t matter which casino one chooses, though. Slot players are uniformly saying that the slot payouts fall far short of their expectations all across Pennsylvania.

It is not their imagination or a temporary run of bad luck that leads players to say it is tough for a slot player to win in Pennsylvania. It really is tougher than in many other states because the average return to the player (RTP) is only 88-90 percent.

According to the regulations of the PGCB, a Pennsylvania casino would be in compliance with a slot payout of only 85 percent. The average payouts (for all slot machines combined) are better than the minimum at all of the Pennsylvania casinos, but not a whole lot better.

You might improve your chances somewhat by avoiding penny slot machines and playing a higher denomination machine with a better RTP. Also, keep your sessions short. If you are winning, make sure you leave a winner before you give the machine a chance to take back all of your winnings and more. If you are losing, set a limit on your losses and settle for coming back another time when maybe your luck will be better.

Video poker

Video poker players can also choose from many popular varieties. In addition, as an example of the growing trend to offer gaming and non-gaming amenities in the same setting, the Sunburst Bar in the center of the casino offers 33 multi-game video poker machines.

Table games

Mohegan Sun Pocono is home to more than 90 table games, so expect to find not only all of the most frequently played games and different variations of them, but other games that are brand new to you. Your many options include the following:

Blackjack

Roulette

Mini-baccarat

Mississippi stud

Pai gow

Pai gow tiles

Let It Ride

Three card poker

Spanish 21

Big Six

As with slots and video poker, table games players can choose from a wide range of bet sizes. Whatever game you select, be sure to familiarize yourself with the rules and correct playing strategy beforehand.

It is best to avoid American roulette. The combination of both a single and double zero on the wheel raises the house edge to 5.26 percent. You are better off playing single zero only European roulette with a house edge Current sidebar:of 2.70 percent.

Blackjack

Some additional comments are worth noting about blackjack due to its great popularity. For starters, this is a casino that appears to be making an effort to accommodate as many people as possible who want to play this game. Special handicap-accessible blackjack tables are available. Furthermore, low stakes players will be pleased to know that $5 blackjack tables are now being offered 24/7.

Blackjack is a game in which the likelihood of winning depends not just on luck, but on a combination of both luck and the player’s skill. Knowing and applying the correct basic strategy can go a long way towards keeping the house edge on this game to a minimum.

That said, depending on where the game is being played, and sometimes even at different tables in the same casino, the rules can vary considerably, and these rule differences can also make a particular game either easier or harder to beat. Pennsylvania players are fortunate because the rules for blackjack in Pennsylvania casinos, as set by the PGCB, are among the most liberal in the country. Regardless of whether you play at Mohegan Sun Pocono or any other Pennsylvania casino, the blackjack game you will be offered will have these basic rules:

Blackjack pays 3:2

Dealer stands on soft 17

Doubling down permitted on any two cards

Doubling down after splits

Splits up to three hands (except aces)

Late surrender

This game, when played according to correct basic strategy, has a house edge of only about .40 percent. However, different casinos may add one or more optional proposition bets with a higher house edge. Mohegan Sun Pocono offers a bet at their blackjack tables called Blazing 7s, featuring a progressive jackpot.

Blazing 7s Blackjack

Regardless of the amount of the original bet, a bet on Blazing 7s is always for $5. In order to win this bet, at least one of the first three cards dealt to you must be a seven. However, the more sevens you have in your hand, the more you win. Two sevens pay more than one and three, even more than two. The highest payouts occur when the three sevens are colored or suited. If your hand is comprised of three sevens that are all the same color, but different suits, you win 10 percent of the jackpot. However, if the three sevens are suited (three identical cards), you win the entire jackpot.

If you take a third card and go over 21, you bust and lose your regular bet, but the outcome of your Blazing 7s bet is not affected. Therefore, if either or both of your first two cards is a seven, the correct strategy for Blazing 7s is never to stand on your two card total, even if the play is contrary to basic strategy. Always hit or double. With a pair of sevens, hit or split, hoping that your third card will also be a seven. The Blazing 7 payouts are as follows:

Three suited sevens earn 100 percent of jackpot

Three colored sevens 10 percent of jackpot

Any three sevens pays 200 for 1

Two sevens pays 25 for 1

One seven pays 2 for 1

Fusion hybrid games

Mohegan Sun Pocono also offers this alternative way of playing. A single player terminal connects the player at the same time with up to four live table games. There are four colored tabs on the touchscreen, letting you switch back and forth.

A player can wager on up to four games at a time with just the touch of a finger. Having more chances to win adds to the excitement.

Poker

Mohegan Sun Pocono has a separate 18-table poker room, which unlike the rest of the casino, is completely nonsmoking. Amenities include several flat screen TVs and a bar. The cash games include the same varieties that are usually found in today’s poker rooms: Limit and no-limit Texas hold ‘em, Omaha and Omaha hi-lo, and stud. There are a variety of stakes to choose from as well.

Adding to the action and excitement, there are frequently scheduled multi-table and Sit-N-Go tournaments, and a high hand jackpot is paid out three times a day as well. The qualifying time periods for the jackpot are 10 a.m.-4 p.m., 4 p.m.-10 p.m., and 10 p.m.-10 a.m. The player with the best hand during each time period wins the jackpot.

There are two regularly scheduled no-limit hold ‘em tournaments daily, in either a traditional or bounty format, with the first starting at 11 a.m. or noon and the second starting at 7 p.m. The buy-in ranges from $30 to $230.

Sit-N-Go tournaments (SNGs) also run daily, subject to table availability and interest. Buy-ins range from $60 to $250.

From October through December, during the Sunday, Monday, and Thursday night NFL games, the poker room offers a special Pro Football Splash Pot promotion. Every time a team scores a field goal, touchdown, or safety, a lucky table is selected to have $50, $100, or $150, respectively splashed into the pot. If the Philadelphia Eagles or Pittsburgh Steelers are playing, the amount splashed into the pot is doubled.

Racing

The Downs at Mohegan Sun Pocono offers evening live harness racing from mid-March through November. During the month of March, Tuesdays and Saturdays are the only racing days. However, from April through November, live racing takes place most Sundays and Mondays as well as on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Moreover, there is also dailywagering on simulcast races at other tracks. Parking and admission are both free.

Momentum Rewards program

Players who do not already have a Momentum card should pick one up the next time they are in the casino. Membership is completely free and allows you to be rewarded for all of your play, not only at Mohegan Sun Pocono, but at the Mohegan Sun Casino in Connecticut as well. Just for signing up, you receive $10 in free slot play, and if you sign up for exclusive email offers, you receive an additional $10.

Every time you play using your card, you earn both Momentum Dollars and Status Points. Momentum Dollars can be used to spend on the amenities of your choice at the Mohegan Sun Pocono or, if you prefer, at the Mohegan Sun in Connecticut or the newest casino partner of Mohegan Sun, Resorts Casino Hotel in Atlantic City.

Each Momentum dollar is equivalent to $1 in spending money. You can use your Momentum Dollars towards amenities like hotel stays, dining, shopping, spa services, and entertainment. They can also online shopping at the online Momentum store.

Your status level in the casino’s five-tiered program is based on Status Points. Each higher level opens the door to additional rewards and privileges.

How to accrue points

Status Point qualifying periods are the six-month periods January-June and July-December. In order to advance to a higher level and then maintain that level, the player needs to earn the specified minimum number of Status Points. The five status levels in the Mohegan Sun Momentum Rewards program are:

Core (starting level)

Ignite (50 or more Status Points)

Leap ( 100 or more Status Points)

Ascend (400 or more Status Points)

Soar (1,200 or more Status Points)

Choice Credits are complimentary credits players at the three top levels earn each month. These credits can be used towards things like:

Hotel stays

VIP Lounge access

Buffet

Entertainment

Converted into Momentum Dollars

Unlike Momentum Dollars, Choice Credits cannot be rolled over and must be used the same month they are issued. Additionally, they can only be used at Mohegan Sun Pocono.

Personal Achievement Awards are based on Status Point earnings per trip. Players earn extra Choice Credits if they hit their specified individual Status Point goal.

Benefits for each tier

Additional benefits for players at the Ignite level and higher include:

Complimentary beverage service while playing table games

Complimentary scooter rental

VIP Lounge access with one guest Sunday-Thursday for 10 Momentum Dollars or Choice Credits

Like the Ignite level players, those at the Leap level receive the same Sunday-Thursday VIP Lounge access, but for only five Momentum Dollars or Choice Credits. Additional perks include shopping discounts and complimentary tickets (based on play and availability) for Wise Crackers Comedy Club.

Players at the Ascend level and higher have access to:

A casino host

Reserved parking

Priority lines for check-in, the casino cashier cage, and the buffet

Bigger shopping discounts

Complimentary round of golf at a partner country club

Complimentary access to the VIP Lounge with one guest daily

Ten percent discount at selected eateries

Cash advance fees waived

Free tickets to certain sporting events

Invitations to Party on the Patio and private events based on play

Soar is the highest status level a player can achieve at Mohegan Sun. Qualifying players get:

Their own Player Development Executive

Complimentary hotel rooms

Complimentary tickets and concessions at the Mohegan Sun Arena

Ten percent off on all spa services

Additional shopping discounts

Two rounds of complimentary golf each month

Two tickets to the cooking show at Rustic Kitchen

Summary

Out of all the casinos in Pennsylvania, Mohegan Sun Pocono is one of the standouts. It should be clear from this review that Mohegan Sun is the complete package, not only offering a large and diverse selection of games appealing to different types of gamblers, but also many other things that can add to a visitor’s enjoyment. Mohegan Sun Pocono is one of the few Pennsylvania gambling facilities that offer a casino, racetrack, and first-rate hotel with varied non-gambling amenities.

Many comments on sites like TripAdvisorand Yelp give both the hotel and the casino a five-star rating, describing the place as a “beautiful hotel,” with spacious rooms, “very helpful staff,” easy to get to, and with a nice casino, good entertainment, and plenty of food options. Additionally, visitors find the facility to be very clean and not overly crowded on weekdays. They find that having a racetrack adjoining the casino adds to the fun.

Of course, like any other casino, Mohegan Sun isn’t perfect. One complaint that comes up repeatedly is that the slots are too tight. Players say that it is nearly impossible to win on the slots. Slot players also don’t like having to pay for drinks, and the consensus of slot and table game players alike is that the beverage service could be faster. Another complaint of many players is that they feel the casino is being too tight with comps.

Despite the noted areas where there is clearly need for improvement, the overall consensus is that Mohegan Sun Pocono is a fun place to visit, gamble, enjoy good food, and be entertained and that it is worth the trip.

Mohegan Sun Pocono 1280 Highway 315 Wilkes-Barre, PA 18702 1-888 WIN IN PA 1-570-831-2100

[dank-rituals]

Hey babe answer all the unusual asks thx

           Unusual Asks        

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? -Spotify

is your room messy or clean?-Cleanish

what color are your eyes?-Brown

do you like your name? why?-Yeah, its my dads and my mom picked it

what is your relationship status? -What’s more single than single?

describe your personality in 3 words or less- Spooky nerd

what color hair do you have?-Brown

what kind of car do you drive? color?-White Pontiac Vibe

where do you shop?-Tops & Walmart mostly

how would you describe your style?-Poor nerd

favorite social media account-This one

what size bed do you have? -Queen

any siblings?-1 and 2 halves

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?-rn, Buffalo. There’s people there

favorite snapchat filter? - Movie promo ones

favorite makeup brand(s)-Does Killstar make makeup? goth ones lol

how many times a week do you shower?-7

favorite tv show?- Rick & Morty

shoe size?-10.5

how tall are you?- 6′

sandals or sneakers? - Sneaks

do you go to the gym? - gods no

describe your dream date- dinner, movie, sexitimes

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?- i think its like $200

what color socks are you wearing? - Black

how many pillows do you sleep with?- 3

do you have a job? what do you do? - I run a movie theater

how many friends do you have? - 10

whats the worst thing you have ever done? - Cheated

whats your favorite candle scent? - Black Cherry

3 favorite boy names- idk

3 favorite girl names- Marceline, Alexandra, Liliana

favorite actor? - Keanu Reeves

favorite actress?-Natalie Portman

who is your celebrity crush?- Alexandra Daddario

favorite movie? - Leon: the Professional

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? - Kinda, A Dirty Job by Chris Moore

money or brains? - Brains

do you have a nickname? what is it? - I’ve gotta million regular names

how many times have you been to the hospital?- a bunch, I have cancer

top 10 favorite songs- ugh this is too hard, you already know

do you take any medications daily? - Lexapro so im not sad (spoilers I still am)

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)- dry since i got sick

what is your biggest fear? - that I’ll always be like this, also cephalopods

how many kids do you want? 0 or 2

whats your go to hair style?- lame?

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) -apartment

who is your role model? -Edgar Allan Poe

what was the last compliment you received?- i dont know

what was the last text you sent?mail is on the chair

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?- idk i never really “believed”

what is your dream car? - one that runs and is clean

opinion on smoking?- cancer isnt fun fools

do you go to college?-not anymore

what is your dream job? - D&D writer/playtester

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? -suburbs sound okay

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? - yup

do you have freckles? -no

do you smile for pictures?-kinda

how many pictures do you have on your phone? - tons

have you ever peed in the woods? -Im an Eagle Scout

do you still watch cartoons? - constantly

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?- McDonalds

Favorite dipping sauce? - Blue Cheese

what do you wear to bed? - Boxers

have you ever won a spelling bee?- 9th grade

what are your hobbies?- nerd stuff

can you draw?- not even a little

do you play an instrument?-nope

what was the last concert you saw? - reel big fish

tea or coffee?- neither

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?-neither

do you want to get married?-yeah

what is your crush’s first and last initial?- which one

are you going to change your last name when you get married? - prolly not

what color looks best on you? - black

do you miss anyone right now? - always

do you sleep with your door open or closed?-closed

do you believe in ghosts?- id like to

what is your biggest pet peeve? - calling personal annoyances pet peeves

last person you called`- payroll company

favorite ice cream flavor? - White Lightning!

regular oreos or golden oreos? - regs

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? -choco

what shirt are you wearing? - Team Instinct Trainer

what is your phone background?- an elf

are you outgoing or shy?-both

do you like it when people play with your hair?-love it 100%

do you like your neighbors? - no

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?- morning

have you ever been high? -yup

have you ever been drunk? -yup

last thing you ate? -chinese

favorite lyrics right now- So sacrifice yourselfAnd let me have whats leftI know that I can findThe fire in your eyesI'm going all the wayGet awayYou take the breath right out of meYou left a hole where my heart should beYou gotta fight just to make it through'Cause I'll be the death of youThis will be all over soonPour salt into the open wound

summer or winter? - summer but cold

day or night? -night

dark, milk, or white chocolate? -Milk

favorite month? -October

what is your zodiac sign-Capricorn

who was the last person you cried in front of?-Alicia I think

[artificialqueens]

gonna make em scream some day, gonna make it big 1/3 (shalaska) - rosetintedworld

AN: this was originally on ao3 (under the same name!) but ive decided to put it on here also because i love feedback and attention. some sugar mama sharon and sugar baby alaska tinder realness. 

It wasn’t something she ever saw herself doing. Or even thought about doing until Violet mentioned it as a joke while scrolling through her Tinder and Alaska got a text from her manager saying she was booked for significantly fewer hours than before. She’d used dating apps before, yes, she was a Pisces. Alaska was a gentle lover. She was passionate and caring because love was fulfilling and completing. The second half of the circle that was her life. She’d been on Tinder and Bumble and any other “lesbian” dating app that had caught her eye. She’d even been on some dates, some successful, some not. None of them led to the romantic fantasy she dreamed of though, given her settings were to girls her age who most of the times were experimenting in their college days and didn’t want anything more than to drink and fuck and not talk again. Alaska was 21. She was a junior in college, she could go to bars and order booze herself, she could pay her bills (barely) in her run down apartment, and if she wanted to change up her online dating profile a little to target a slightly different audience, she damn well could.

So, that’s how her Tinder was back up and running, bio set to Alaska, 21, my names yours, whats alaska? performance major at pittsburgh u, starbucks barista extraordinaire, pisces (but im more of a snake than a fish), and yes i am naturally a platinum blonde and preferences set to woman ages 30-50. Her manager was left on delivered but her landlord was texted and asked about rent being a few days late. She sent a silent prayer to anyone who was listening before settling into bed on her stomach and opening the aforementioned app.

The glow of her iPhone screen illuminated her face in the now dark room. Pittsburgh was busy outside, which was typical for a Thursday night when you lived in the middle of the city. Not what some would say was the good middle of the city, but middle of the city nonetheless. Middle of the city enough that Alaska was living paycheck to paycheck trying to make rent while her building simultaneously was falling apart. What was good though, was the handful of woman Alaska was willing to swipe right on. Katya, 35, former Russian gymnast and now a hot blonde yoga instructor.  Bianca, 43, a seamstress with dimples for days. Raja, 45, a makeup artist who happened to be drop dead gorgeous too, which wasn’t quite fair in Alaska’s books.

Sharon, 42, writer of indie horror films. Busty, blonde with hints of silver, permanent bedroom eyes and velvet lips. Her Tinder pictures were her with a raggedy looking cat, her with her head thrown back in laughter and a bottle Pabst, her in a silk robe with tortoiseshell glasses perched on her nose and a glass of champagne in her hand. Alaska hovered on the profile for a moment. She tried to take in the tattoos and the dimple in her chin. The high cheekbones and her sultry glare and the way her clothes hung to her curves. Her thumbs hovered and she sucked in a deep breath before super liking and clicking her phone shut. From under her pillow, her phone buzzed but she ignored it and pulled her blanket up to her chin.

—

The first thing Alaska does after she wakes up is check her phone and have a minor heart attack over the messages on her screen. Well, that’s a lie. The first thing she does is de-tangle her hair from the elastic it was in, push herself up from her mattress on the floor and stretch until she can hear her back crack, make herself a coffee, and then almost spill the scalding liquid on herself when she clicks her phone open.

Sharon: Well, aren’t you a sweet little thing?

Sharon: What are you up to doll?

The hot horror babe double her age had super-liked her back and messaged her first.

Alaska: oh shit sorry, i fell asleep last night !

Sharon responds in nearly a minute and they fall into easy conversation. Alaska mentions she’s up to nothing, really, as she’s not booked for work and there was still a good two weeks before she had to start classes again. The other woman mentions just writing and sketching, working on concepts but other than that doing “fuck all”. The conversation turns shallow, as online dating conversations usually do, and Sharon mentions how Alaska’s gorgeous, how her smile could kill and how her hips are mesmerizing. She asks for a picture and Alaska doesn’t know why she’s blushing all the way up her chest. Or why she spends 5 minutes trying to fix herself up to send a photo to impress a woman she doesn’t know.

—

It was only two nights later when Alaska had agreed to meet Sharon for dinner.

She had scoured her closet for something to wear on a date. Going to bars and clubs, sure. She had clothes for that. Clothes for a date with a woman 21 years her senior who showered her in compliments, was extremely blunt, and had a charmingly crude sense of humour? Yeah, can’t say she’s had to dress for that before. But there’s always a first time for everything. She settles eventually on a sparkly black bralette that dips in slightly to show her cleavage and a black pencil skirt. The length of the pencil skirt cancels out the sexuality of the bralette and the way the skirt hugs her hips, obviously. For good measure, she pairs it with a floral blue kimono and what she hopes are her best pair of black fuck me heels.

The restaurant Sharon had picked out was a couple of blocks away. It was some fancy vegetarian place that Alaska had never heard of, but from a quick Google search she concluded that it was definitely out of her price range and somewhere she could never imagine herself stepping into. It’d be like a bull in a china shop, out of the ordinary and a very bad idea. She wasn’tfancy. Sure, one day, when she was a performer making millions maybe she would’ve returned to the city and ate at some fancy vegetarian restaurant. But now, a simple Starbucks barista who had a mattress in the corner of her room and wallpaper made of sketches and drawings? Nope.

It’s only when she got to the restaurant that she realized she was shaking. Why was she so nervous? She had thanked her Uber driver with a nervous smile and rated five stars, watching as he drove away while wringing her hands together nervously.

The inside was beautiful. All velvet upholstery. There was soft music playing and the walls were lined with paintings. It was classy and chic. And it smelt expensive. There was even a maître d who eyed her as she stood, nearly trembling in her heels like a deer caught in the headlights. It was embarrassing and she thought for a moment of just leaving. She was here to have a good night and hopefully get laid by an extremely hot woman and she was in it to win it but right now she wasn’t feeling like a winner.

“Alaska!” A woman called from a booth in the right corner, almost completely out of view and Alaska dipped away from the maître d with a shy smile and scurried over.

She was more gorgeous in person, somehow. Her blonde hair was clipped back from her face and the dim lighting didn’t reveal much, but Alaska could see the glimpses of silver where stray locks of hair fell around her face. Her cheekbones were high and her face was contoured and hollowed out. Her lips were pouty and plush. They’d be nice to kiss. Probably. Hopefully. Her tortoiseshell glasses were perched on her nose and Alaska could see from behind them where Sharon’s eyeshadow was creasing slightly where it fell into her crows feet. She wanted to brush it away, feel Sharon’s soft looking skin under her fingers.

Strong arms were hugging Alaska before she was able to process what was happening. Sharon was warm around her, rubbing her back and squeezing her waist. Her short sleeved blazer and pencil skirt was clinging to her body, the burnt orange contrasting with the black of Sharon’s bra that was spilling from where the buttons didn’t go quite high enough. Alaska trailed her eyes up the long leather gloves she was wearing and over the tattoo of a phone number just where the gloves ended above her elbow.

“Sit, sit! Hi darling, how are you?” Sharon’s eyes twinkled as she sat back down, pouring out two glasses of wine from the bottle already sitting on the table.

“I’m, uh, really well! Thank you! How about yourself?” Alaska smiled, graciously taking the wine. Maybe the alcohol would soothe her nerves. “Also sorry for running a bit late. Traffic. You know.”

“Don’t even worry about it!” Sharon shrugs and smiles before reaching out and resting her hand over Alaska’s on the table.

Sharon is touchy. Her heel clad foot is hooked around Alaska’s ankle and trailing up and down her calf slowly. Goosebumps raise on Alaska’s skin and she wonders if Sharon can feel them, or if she can sense when her breath catches in her throat and her cheeks flush. She’s always reaching across the table and taking Alaska’s hand in her own, bumping hands when passing a menu over or leaning across to grasp at her arm when Alaska says something funny enough to make Sharon throw her head back in laughter.

They talk and eat and drink. Sharon leans forward to feed Alaska bites of her risotto, claiming that her soup simply can’t be enough and she doesn’t care about the price. The waitress comes and goes with another bottle of wine and Alaska pours herself another glass, stains it with her lipstick and Sharon makes her laugh so hard red wine comes out of her nose much to her embarrassment.

Her eyes are bright and intense. Sharon’s asking Alaska about where she works, what she does. Alaska’s cheeks are pink from the attention but she doesn’t mind, really. Sharon listens when she talks about being a performance major, how she loves plays (especially musicals) and how she writes songs (but they’re mostly parodies, because they’re more fun) and how she really wants to make it big some day. She listens as Alaska talks about her brothers, who are either doctors or in the military and the wine talks about how sometimes she feels a little bit ashamed of herself for not being as successful as them. Sharon is intelligent yet ditzy, listening when it’s important, sniping in with comments and questions when necessary, sometimes distracting herself with a related story from her past or a pop-culture reference Alaska raises her eyebrow at. It’s nice.

Sharon’s gloved hands are on her arm and then in her purse to pay the bill and leave a very generous tip. Alaska’s eyes widen at the price but Sharon is already pulling her away and outside with an arm around her waist. Her grip is strong and steadies Alaska where she’s feeling tipsy and clumsy on her feet, heels clacking on the sidewalk. The flick of a lighter brings her back to her senses and she watches, hypnotized, as Sharon lights a cigarette and breathes deeply. Smoking has never been a turn on her for, really. But the way the smoke leaves Sharon’s soft lips and the way her eyes go hazy is enough for Alaska to press a kiss to her jaw so Sharon will hail a cab for the both of them.

The back of the cab is stuffy and hot. Sharon’s hands are on Alaska’s thighs and in her hair and Alaska’s eyes are dark. She shifts to wrap a hand around the back of Sharon’s neck and pull her in for a kiss. Their lips press together in a rush, teeth clinking. It feels so cliche and wrong, making out in the back of a taxi. Sharon’s hand is resting on her thigh and she’s nipping at Alaska’s lip so softly she has to hold back her moans. It’s dirty and wrong how much Alaska wants Sharon to take her right then and there, so luckily Sharon’s building is only a few blocks away and it’s not long until Sharon’s paying and tipping and pulling Alaska out of the vehicle.

They stumble past the doorman with a nod and Alaska forces herself not to think about how often Sharon must do this, stumble in drunkenly with a girl on her arm late at night. They press into the elevator and Sharon corners her as they go up the twenty-six flights to her apartment, peppering kisses on her skin and tugging at the hems of her clothes.

From the elevator down the hall to Sharon’s apartment is a blur. Inside, it’s all minimal decor and chandeliers and art on the walls. The floor is hardwood and the furniture is neat and tidy. In her drunken haze, Sharon manages to give a quick tour. Quick tour meaning pointing out the different rooms in the large apartment while stripping herself of her gloves and heels and Alaska following suit as Sharon drags her forward by the hand.

The master bedroom, somehow, exceeds Alaska’s expectations. But then again this woman was a mystery wrapped in an enigma and she wasn’t sure what to expect in the first place. The far wall is all window and she can see all the lights from the city flickering. A chandelier in front of the window from an apartment across the ways twinkles and Alaska can feel the wine in her bloodstream. The floors are dark, the walls are cream and the furniture is matte black. It’s elegant and chic. Alaska can feel Sharon’s eyes on her and wants the floor to swallow her whole. Against the wall is a king sized bed and the headboard is tall, the bars thin and simple and Alaska needs to be fucked and grasping onto them right now. There’s art on the walls and vintage movie posters and Alaska can spot an open sketchbook on the nightstand. Her eyes flicker back to the window when she hears a plane fly overhead.

“You like the view?” It’s more of a statement than a question. Alaska nods anyways. She can feel Sharon’s smile and flushes all up her chest.

Sharon presses her body up along Alaska’s back. She can feel the fabric of her dress and the softness of her breasts against her spine. Her hair brushes Alaska’s shoulders when it’s released from the clip and she has the urge to touch it. She wants to feel it through her fingers and sort out the greys from the blonds, hear Sharon sigh when she massages her scalp. Sharon’s warm against her and presses her forward softly until they’re standing in front of the window and Alaska can see people on the sidewalk. She wonders if they know what’s going on stories above them.

There’s a tug on the zipper of Alaska’s skirt then the cool air is hitting her thighs and Sharon’s helping her step out of it. The older woman hums. It’s low and soft and she can feel it against her shoulder when Sharon tucks her chin over it. She presses a kiss to Alaska’s neck and watches goosebumps rise where her lipstick leaves a mark.

Any other hook-ups Sharon would get the other girl to strip. Make her put on a show for her and work for it. Or it’d be fast and there’d be a trail of clothes from the front door to the bedroom. Like some X-rated drunken Hansel and Gretel. At least it served its purpose when Sharon pretended to be asleep and willed the other person to find their way out in the morning. But Alaska was different. Sharon undresses her slowly in attempt to take her all in. Her thighs were milky and soft. There were the slightest of pink stretch marks where her hips had filled out and the older woman took her time tracing them if only to feel Alaska shiver under her. The things she would do to keep the younger girl shivering under her hands. She slid her kimono off, followed by her bralette so she could cup her breasts and squeeze before pulling her underwear down her hips.

Sharon’s still humming. Completely nonchalant. Alaska has to wonder how many girls she takes home. How many of them she strips in front of the window. If she presses the pads of her thumbs into the underside of their breasts and pinches their nipples and hips just to hear them squeak. Sharon’s still fully dressed, save for her glasses, heels, and gloves that were shed earlier. She debated on keeping the gloves on, too. If only to see the way Alaska would shiver and blush when a cool leather finger would run through Alaska’s folds only to come out shiny and wet. Next time.

“Sharon…” Alaska’s voice is whiny and Sharon shushes her, tapping her finger on her lips until Alaska takes it into her mouth.

“What do you want, baby?” Sharon’s calm and collected. The opposite of Alaska, whose heart is beating against her ribcage so hard it may break. She groans in reply.

Sharon pinches at her nipple with on hand, slipping another finger from her other hand in Alaska’s mouth when she gasps in response. She stumbles forward slightly and presses her palms against the glass as Sharon wraps an arm around her waist to keep her steady. There’s people below bustling on the sidewalk and she can see the people in apartments over. Her breath comes out hot and the window fogs where it hits.

“I got you, it’s okay. Such a pretty baby.” Sharon pets her hair, it’s long and soft in her palm, “I bet everyone outside loves the view just as much as you do.”

Alaska’s thighs shake as Sharon removes her fingers from her mouth. They’re slick with spit and Alaska watches the trail of saliva between her lips and Sharon’s fingers, dips her tongue forward to lick it up. Suddenly, Sharon’s fingers press up against her clit and she groans. Her head falls back against Sharon’s shoulder and her fingers curl against the glass searching to find purchase. The window feels like ice against her skin. But it may just be from the way her skin is radiating heat and the sweat is sticking to her. Sharon rubs slow circles and watches how Alaska’s hip shakes. Her left thigh twitches when Sharon trails a single finger back and forth over the nerves and her hips jerk forward when she presses the heel of her hand against it in order to rub against her hole with her fingers.

“Tell me what you want. I just want to make you feel good.” Sharon’s voice is warm and she can feel the pout against her ear. She’s teasing. Her fingers skate past Alaska’s clit again and she presses the tip of a finger inside of her. It slips just past the muscle until the younger girl gasps and then it’s gone.

“Fuck me, please. Please mama. God.” Alaska’s whining high in her throat. Her throat catches on the mama and she flushes from embarrassment, all up her chest to her cheeks. Sharon kisses and smiles against her shoulder.

Alaska nearly cries when Sharon slips a finger inside her. Her pussy is warm and wet and Sharon fucks her slow. The sound echoes in the otherwise silent room and Alaska whimpers. Her centre is pink and swollen and Sharon relishes in the sound, slips another finger in without problem and scissors them just to hear Alaska’s embarrassed cry when she comments on how wet she is. Her fingers work slow and Alaska is squirming enough that Sharon has to wrap her arm back around her waist, pressing her naked form against Sharon’s clothed one to keep her still. Alaska’s trailing her hands backwards. Up into Sharon’s hair and down her side, around to her ass and thighs, then back down to try and intertwine their fingers and press Sharon deeper into her.

“Alaska baby, no. You’ll get there. I’ll take care of you.” Sharon tsked, her tone stern.

Alaska whines and curls her fingers into Sharon’s arm. Sharon digs her fingers deeper and crooks them. Alaska’s bowlegged knees buckle and she reaches out again to steady herself against the window and lean back against Sharon. Her eyes are glued shut and her lips are parted and Sharon works her so sweetly, pumping two fingers and swiping her thumb in soft circles around Alaska’s clit.

“You gonna cum? So beautiful. Cum for me baby girl.” Sharon murmurs. Her eyes are dark and downcast, shaded by her eyelashes.

Alaska finishes with a cry and her legs give out. Her small frame is shaking and Sharon holds her close, shifts them until they’re back onto the bed and Alaska is panting. The city light reflects on the sweat on Alaska’s chest. Her breasts are illuminated and Sharon leans down to nip at a nipple and Alaska gasps from the overstimulation.

Quickly, Sharon sheds her clothing, nearly ripping a button from her dress in the process. She shifts Alaska onto her back and moves to straddle her chest. Alaska’s panting. Her breasts fall when she exhales and Sharon watches how they shake, reaches out to pinch the skin around her nipple. Her thumb trails against Alaska’s lips and she opens her mouth for it, suckling it and groaning around the digit. A whine escapes her when Sharon pulls her thumb away and trails spit across her bottom lip to see how they glisten.

Sharon’s hips move of their own accord, shifting upwards until she’s against Alaska’s mouth. Her tongue laps out immediately. She presses the flat of her tongue against Sharon’s clit and hears her groan closed mouth. She prods more then, circling around the nub until Sharon is circling her hips above her and grinding against her mouth. Alaska moves her hands to Sharon’s thighs, gives them a squeeze and presses her nose against the groomed hairs. Her breath is cut off and she can feel herself flushing from the effort but she can’t find it in her to stop. The older woman is shaking above her and Alaska sucks hard on her clit. Wetness covers the bottom of Alaska’s face and Sharon whimpers before lifting herself off.

“So good. So, so good doll.” Sharon shifts until they’re both under the sheets and presses a kiss to Alaska’s lips, chin, jaw, cheek. She sighs out through her nose and pulls the girl close to her, nudging her knee between the other’s thighs and holding her head to her chest until Alaska’s breathing matches the beating of her heart.

—

When Alaska wakes, the spot in bed beside her is cold and there’s a dull ache deep in her skull. Sunlight filters in through the large window and Alaska has to squint to look around the room. The cream sheets are glowing pale yellow in the light. They’re soft against her skin where she feels sweaty and gross, and it takes a moment for Alaska to remember where she is. The framed poster for a campy 80s slasher films jerks her memory. Sharon.

She pads out of bed slowly, shifting over to the dresser where she finds last night’s clothes folded up neatly along with a pair of shorts and shirt that Sharon must’ve left out. It’s weird, almost domestic. Most hook ups don’t do this. But then again, most hook ups weren’t older goth women who spend over $100 at dinner without a blink of an eye then fuck Alaska in front of their gigantic window up on the 26th floor of a high class apartment. Alaska squeezes back into her pencil skirt and slips her bralette over her head while making her way out to the rest of the apartment.

There’s a note on the island in the kitchen, atop the granite.

I’m so sorry, I had to run before you woke up! You look gorgeous even in your sleep .. Is that weird to say?

Feel free to shower and help yourself to breakfast and coffee.

I would love to see you again, doll. <3

Sharon Needles

There’s a mug with little ghosts on it beside the note and it’s all too weird and too much. Alaska orders an Uber with the last of her phone battery, adds the number scribbled at the bottom of the paper into her contacts, then tucks the note into the back of her phone case. The doorman downstairs gives her a nod of acknowledgement when she eaves the building and as she got into her Uber she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

The rest of the day went by in a haze. Alaska took a cold, cold shower and puttered around her apartment making shitty coffee and a bowl of cereal before going to work. Her afternoon shift was full of fake smiles and frappuccinos and she spilled hot coffee on herself in a distracted haze and cursed, her co-workers giving her concerned glances. It wasn’t her fault. It was purely coincidence how she kept getting distracted whenever she noticed the crows feet on a lady sitting in the corner or the grey-blue eyes of the young girl she was taking an order from.

She texted Sharon when she got home.  

—

The next time they meet up it’s during the day in a nice area downtown. It’s a very Liberal area. Rainbow crosswalk and all. It’s chalked full of vegan restaurants and nice little expensive shops and it’s another area that Alaska would love to be able to walk down on a random afternoon and not feel intimidated, but that’s not quite the case right now.

Alaska’s in a white shirt tucked into a black skater skirt with a flannel, and half her hair is pulled up into two buns. She feels cute. And gay. And she hopes Sharon thinks the same enough to like, hold her hand or something, or finger her in the washroom of some mom-and-pop restaurant. Maybe both. She tries not to think too much about it as her Uber parks just down the road from the diner Sharon told her to meet her at.

The restaurant is small and cute, not to mention far less intimidating from the last place. There’re plants hanging from the ceiling and a large fish tank. It’s earthy and warm. Scanning the room, there’s no sign of Sharon but before she goes and sits down to wait she hears a soft ‘boo!’ from behind her. Alaska flushes at how she jumped in response and Sharon laughs, pulling her into a hug. The booths are made of worn down leather and the floor creaks slightly as they make their way to a seat. She feels far more “in her element” here, yet her chest still feels tight as Sharon sits across from her.

Her hair is soft and curled, but her eyes are dark and blown out and her lips are plump and red. It’s a dramatic look for one o’clock on a Tuesday, but Alaska doesn’t mind. Her black mock neck shirt hugs her body and her pants are tight and match her lips. It’s modern and chic and Alaska feels underdressed. But Sharon’s gaze is smouldering and trails down her body with a smile. It feels oddly familiar. Oddly comforting.

Sharon asks the waiter if they have Pabst in bottles, not on tap, (they do), and Alaska orders a lemonade. The menu is handwritten and cute, with tacky pun names and illustrations. A foot brushes up against Alaska’s and Sharon’s hand is on her arm. She’s humming as she reads, her lips pursed. Her cool eyes are squinted slightly from her lack of glasses and her crows feet crease slightly. It’s endearing, really. Her fingers are tracing the blue veins under the skin and Alaska wonders if she can feel the goosebumps raising, or if she even realizes she’s doing it in the first place. She imagines Sharon can feel the blood pulsing under her skin. A steady rhythm. By the time the waiter comes back to take their order Alaska had barely read the menu and stumbles slightly, ordering a salad. Sharon shoots her a knowing smile, curling her fingers around Alaska’s small wrist.

“So what do you do, exactly?” Sharon raises her eyebrows at the question, letting her thumb rub at Alaska’s arm.

“Well…” She pauses to take a sip of her beer, “To put it simply I work on short films. They’re just independent projects, mostly horror. I’ve always loved the genre and I love creating and I had the money so I said fuck it, got a group together and we’ve been working together since. We have a pretty strong fan base too, fucked up if you ask me.” Sharon laughs, big and booming in the otherwise calm restaurant.

Alaska smiles and asks about her projects. Her eyes light up when she talks and Alaska can see how her cheekbones protrude when she smiles that wide. The older woman talks about horror movies she admires, how growing up the weird goth dyke made her truly admire the villains in films who got revenge on the preps and the jocks. Most other people would be terrified to hear how their date relates to the killers in these films, but with Sharon it makes sense. She throws herself entirely into her work. Throws herself into the scripts and the storyboards and all the inspirations. She’s always hovering around people on set and fucking with lighting and costumes then marathoning films she’s seen before and can probably quote word for word. This woman is intelligent and intense but spooky and stupid and Alaska doesn’t quite know what to make of her.  

They eat, and talk, and Sharon drinks a few more PBR. Alaska steals a fry from Sharon’s plate and dips it in the surprisingly good vegan milkshake Sharon had guilted her into ordering, just because she refused a lemonade refill and that just wasn’t happening in Sharon’s books. The older woman threw another fry at her for Alaska’s amusement. She was like a baby. A cute one, not an annoying crying one. She was one that you just wanted to keep cooing and giggling and happy. They ordered cheesecake to share and Sharon fed it to her across the table, watching as Alaska’s lips pursed around the fork.

When they go to pay, Alaska pulls her wallet out of her purse. Sharon tsks and gives her a warning look to put her wallet away, and Alaska tries to ignore the way heat pools in her stomach.

As they leave, Sharon snakes an arm around Alaska’s waist. It fits there, and Alaska doesn’t mind. Her hand dips into the curve of her small waist and settles on her hip. It’s a warm heaviness and Alaska has to walk a little closer to Sharon due to it.

“Y’know, I didn’t realize I was gay until my senior year of high school maybe.” Alaska looks down at the small ceramic ghost in her hand, thinks that Sharon might like it. Her voice startles Sharon from where she’s standing a few feet away looking at a similar ceramic cat.

“Really? You come across as the loud and proud type. Like head cheerleader that all the bi-curious girls go to behind the bleachers to get their lesbian cherry popped.”

“Okay fair enough. Let me guess, little goth bitch who punched out anyone who tried to cuss you out for being a dyke?” Alaska fires back, putting down the small ghost and patting its head.

“I’ve had my fair share of physical encounters . I’ll admit to that. No shame in punching someone’s teeth in when they disrespect you.” Sharon raises her eyebrows in question to Alaska, “Although it did take half of freshman year before I started fighting back. I don’t eat meat but I’ll use ‘em to nurse a black eye if I have to.”

The older woman laughs but Alaska can’t help but imagine her younger, smaller. 14 year old Sharon nursing her wounds because some asshole thought she was a good target. 14 year old Sharon reapplying black lipstick in an abandoned girls’ washroom. 14 year old Sharon being unapologetically herself despite her entire school seemingly working against her because she was a bit eccentric and queer. 14 year old Sharon going home and watching shitty horror movies as a distraction from the shit she had to deal with. It tugged on Alaska’s heart strings.

From antique shops to run down clubs to vintage boho chic clothing stores, they check them all out. Alaska tries on a dress that looks like it’s made of trash bags and spins, laughing as it floats up around her. Sharon hides behind a shelf in a costume store, popping out with fake teeth and a witch hat on to startle Alaska. Alaska tries on a horse mask at the back of the store, recalling how people in school used to call her horse face . It doesn’t bother her anymore though, and she neighs in the mask before ripping it off and laughing.

“If we ever get into a fight I’ll just buy us animal masks. You can’t be pissed off at someone when you’re a fucking horse and they’re a frog” Sharon shifts through the masks, laughing before pulling on Alaska’s arm back to the front of the store.

The next store they go into is pastel and airy. They sell lingerie and chiffon peignoirs, lace slip dresses and thigh high stockings with matching garters. It’s all out of Alaska’s price range. This isn’t just a store that you go to when going out with friends shopping. She knows this. And she knows Sharon knows this. Sharon walks in like she owns the place, one arm still wrapped around Alaska’s waist like she owns her and the other weaving through fabrics.

“What’s your size, baby?” Sharon presses a kiss to her cheek and Alaska can feel her throat close in.

Her fingers clench into a fist. She’s sweating. Why is she sweating?

“Uh, I’m a 36C. Medium for everything else, I guess.”

Sharon hums and shifts through the isles. The bags on her arm dig into the skin, making it pink and white. Alaska wants to kiss it. Sharon purchased some tacky looking Halloween knick-knacks, and anything Alaska looked at for over ten seconds and seemed interested in. It made her blush when Sharon insisted on buying it. They both drift around the store for a while, brushing off the sleepy looking girl who asked if they needed any help.

Eventually, they end up near the back by the empty changing rooms. Sharon pulls Alaska into one, pulling the pale pink door shut behind her and clicking the lock shut. It’s a roomy area, with a large mirror on the back wall. The two walls are lined with benches and there’s a small circle stool in the corner. Alaska can feel the air heating up. Or maybe it’s just her. Sharon’s hanging things up on the hooks and looking back at Alaska expectantly when minutes pass and she’s still fully dressed.

“Don’t be shy, baby.” Sharon’s voice is soft. Her thighs spill outwards from where she’s sitting on the stool and she crosses her legs, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands.

Alaska sucks in a breath before stripping, gauging her actions based on Sharon’s face. She tries on all the pieces Sharon picked out, ranging from sheer bras and thongs to intricate high wasted panties with matching garters and stockings. She tries on all the robes and slips, lets Sharon run her hands over the silk dawning her thighs. She spins her finger and Alaska turns in each outfit to show how her ass peeks out of the underwear and how her hair runs soft down her back. Sharon’s making soft sounds.

When Alaska gets to the last set, black high waisted fucking crotchless panties with the bra and stockings to match, she feels her face go red hot. It was before, definitely, but this ensemble (if you will) was truly the cherry on top of this fucked up sexually frustrating sundae. She changes slowly, folding the last pieces and putting them back on their hangers on the wall.

“Can you be good for me?” Sharon’s voice comes as a surprise and Alaska nods, spinning around to face the woman.  “Sit down pumpkin. Spread your legs.”

Alaska’s head was spinning. She lowered herself onto the bench slowly and pulled at her knees to spread her legs. Sharon’s gaze was red hot and Alaska squirmed.

“You’re so wet.” Alaska could hear Sharon laugh and she twitched, moving her legs back together slightly. “No baby, you’re being so good. I wanna see you.”

Alaska’s lungs were collapsing. Her insides were burning and she felt so dirty and flustered and they were in a damn changing room . Sharon was fully dressed, legs crossed and lighting a cigarette even though it was against the rules because she just didn’t care. Smoke plumed upwards and she took a long drag, ashing her cigarette against the edge of the stool and turning back to where Alaska was squirming, the air conditioned air hitting her cunt.

“Can you touch yourself for me? I want you to fuck yourself with one finger baby, don’t want you to make too much of a mess.”

Sharon’s voice was so soft yet stern and Alaska wanted to cry. She grazed her index finger over her clit and jerked before tracing around her whole. She was wet. Just from trying on the lingerie and modelling for Sharon. Just being around Sharon. Sharon who had such a domineering energy. Sharon with her hand on the small of her back pressing her forward. Sharon feeding her cheesecake even when she thought she was full. Alaska pressed one finger in and gasped, squeezing her eyes shut to avoid the embarrassment of making eye contact with the other woman.

“Nice and slow, or else the whole store will hear how wet you are right now. Or would you like that? If someone walked back right now and could hear how wet you are, how you’re trying to hold back all your pretty little noises as you put on a show for me.” Sharon to try and relieve the pressure between her own thighs, “Touch your clit for me hun, with your other hand. You’re so good. So pretty”

Alaska gasped with the intensity of it all. Her thumb on her clit and her middle finger pressing up inside of her, shooting stars behind her eyelids. She could feel Sharon watching her, how her eyes were raking up and down her body as she thrust her hips into her own hands. The bench underneath her was probably wet but at this point she couldn’t bring herself to care. The dozy girl working up front could walk in on them, unlock the door from the outside and ask what was taking them so long and Alaska wouldn’t be able to find it in herself to care as long as Sharon wanted her to keep going.

“Sharon, I can’t, I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me baby.” Alaska’s hips shook and she clenched her jaw to try and keep her noises in as she thrust, panting as she came down from her high.

Sharon stood then and sucked Alaska’s wet fingers into her mouth. They left with a pop! and Sharon smiled, letting Alaska change in silence before purchasing everything she picked out and pulling Alaska into an Uber back to her apartment building.

—

School starts up again. Alaska’s in her final year of university. Soon, she’ll have her Bachelor’s Degree in Performing Arts. She’ll be able to move out to LA like she wanted and be successful. She can star in films and put out an album and make it big. She can make her parents proud along with her medical and military brother because she can be successful too! They all thought she wouldn’t make anything of herself. Sure, maybe she’d move out to LA like she’d always dreamed of, but make it big? Nah. Her mom was convinced she was just going to become some drug addicted deviant, but hey, isn’t that the superstar lifestyle anyways?

Alaska’s plans may have changed drastically. As the weeks turned into months, she spent less and less time at her own run down apartment. It wasn’t that she moved in with Sharon, per se, it was just that over time she had ended up moving out of her apartment. Not to mention Sharon had seen one text from her landlord saying that her rent was far overdo and got so worried, telling Alaska to not worry about it because she had it covered. (Which was embarrassing on Alaska’s part, considering any time not spent in a lecture hall was probably spent working, but inflation was a bitch, y’know?). So it’s not like it was some big ordeal when two and a half months into whatever they had, Alaska was staying there most of the time. She just needed a place to stay until she could find somewhere she could actually afford, and Sharon was willing to give her a helping hand! It also helped that Sharon had a tongue that made her see God.

The move in was gradual. Alaska had a healthy collection of clothes and lingerie at Sharon’s apartment, just from previous dates where Sharon insisted she buy everything for Alaska because it just looked so cute on her and she had her own bills to pay, so Sharon would buy. Eventually, a toothbrush showed up in the holder beside Sharon’s. And Alaska’s fancy purple shampoo she splurged on to keep her hair platinum. And a collection of socks and pajamas and other clothes that Alaska would just happen to leave there but never return to her apartment. Of course, since so much of her wardrobe and electronics and chargers and, well, everything, somehow ended up at Sharon’s flat, Alaska spent more and more time there. It was just convenient, that was all.

Alaska’s life was good. Different from where she thought she would be at this point in her life, but good. Violet was hounding her about the “friend” she was staying with, and about how she seemed to have that “post-sex glow” (as she liked to call it) 24-fucking-7, but Violet was a bitch and too nosy for her own good.

She spent her afternoons in the living room of the apartment, practicing lines from a production that was worth quite a hefty amount of her grade. Cerrone was her only spectator. He didn’t throw rotten tomatoes or boo her off of the coffee table stage though, so she takes what she can get. Sometimes Sharon would come home early and watch her, give her pointers and then tell her to stop repeating the same damn lines for the 50th time and put her mouth to good use. It was a good break. Sharon brought up the idea a few times, putting Alaska in some of her short films. It’d be fun! The gorgeous ditzy blonde in a gore-y horror short film? Instant blockbuster! People love cliche shit like that. Plus, Sharon would love to have Alaska on set with her all day.

It was nice, truly. Sharon took them out for dinner or made fancy vegetarian meals. She’d wake Alaska up with her head between her thighs, leaving Alaska to shudder awake in a cool sweat and groaning. There’d be small notes with hearts on them when Sharon would disappear before Alaska got up. Sharon would have an Uber waiting outside Alaska’s Starbuckslocation when she was done work, and sometimes Sharon would even pop in herself to visit even though Alaska knows she’d rather support local businesses than the industry coffee shop she worked at. Sharon bought her fancy clothes and shoes and lingerie just to see Alaska blush and squirm. Alaska would get all quiet and call Sharon mommy and curl up on the couch beside her, pressing kisses to her neck to distract her from the movie she was watching. Or, she’d get bratty and call her mama , call Sharon on set when she was in the apartment alone touching herself. Life was good.

—

Alaska more or less moving in only proved to show how needy she was. She was worse than a pet, but Sharon only had Cerrone to compare her to so maybe it wasn’t the fairest comparison. They both bit Sharon, though. Alaska would text Sharon while she was on set, something along the lines of noodles i miss you :( when are you going to be hoooome? sharonnnn i need you. mama please with an image attached of Alaska leaning up against the pillows wearing one of Sharon’s old shirts, with the tip of one thumb in her mouth and two fingers from her other hand knuckle deep in her cunt. Sharon would have to call it a day early and rush home, finger fuck Alaska into the couch cushions until she saw stars and called Sharon mommy despite how embarrassed she got after.

Sharon loved it, how open Alaska was becoming with her. She stopped hiding her phone calls with her brother, instead she would saunter around the kitchen and sit herself upon Sharon’s lap while she listened to Cory talk about the girl he met at the gym. Sharon would tickle her thigh, slip a finger into her panties just to feel how wet she already was and circle her clit until Alaska hung up the phone. Alaska would come back from her lectures and talk about her professors and how her auditions went. She’d write her essays on the leather couch while Sharon painted her toenails baby pink, ate her out while they dried and let Alaska drop her notes and pen onto the hardwood. Sharon liked how Alaska was becoming less shy, how she would pout when she didn’t get her way and call Sharon mama in public just to be a brat and start a scene. Alaska would press kisses to her cheek unprompted, would stop shying away when Sharon payed their dinner bill and bought her fancy lingerie and shoes, would let Sharon give her glasses of wine all day and press on her bladder while fingering her until she cried.

Today was no different. Alaska knew Sharon was out talking to some of her “creative partners” about an idea she had, an idea that she had been sketching and writing for hours after Alaska had fallen asleep on the couch beside her, toes tucked between Sharon’s thighs. She knew Sharon was having some sort of creative breakthrough and was busy. But Alaska was in the apartment alone, and Sharon had left before she woke up. So now she was just lonely and sad and her underwear shifted coldly against her.

lasky <3: noodles when will you be home?

noodles <333: I don’t know baby .. The girl I’m at lunch with is a really talented costume and prop designer. Even if she is a bit stand-offish.

lasky <3: but i neeeeeed you :(

Alaska sent a photo. She was in a sheer pink robe Sharon had bought for her. It was flowy and elegant and trailed behind Alaska on the floor when she walked. It made her feel like an old housewife. She wanted a spiral staircase, wanted to stand at the top of it with a glass of champagne in her hand. Underneath it she wore nothing. She was pouty and annoyed and leaning back on the couch pillows, lips parted and pinching a nipple between two fingers.

noodles <333: I’ll be home in an hour .. Picking up some things. Hope you know how spoiled you are. Brat.

lasky <3: :) :) :) <3

When Sharon gets home, her heart nearly beats out of her chest. She’s had her fair number of romances. Mostly with woman her own age, sometimes younger. Some of them even made it past the six month mark in their relationship. There was something about Alaska though that had Sharon’s head spinning. It was like her entire world had shifted by this girl and was spinning backwards on its axis. Backwards and upside-down. And double time. Whatever. Alaska was curled up on the couch, nude except for the robe, with Cerrone in her lap. She was humming softly to herself and her toes were curled into the couch cushions where her legs were folded underneath her. The natural light made her hair and skin glow and it was so soft and right. Long term didn’t usually work with Sharon. The only long term relationships she had were with cocaine and whiskey and fucking Cerrone the cat, who she didn’t even want in the first place. So why did coming back to her apartment daily to Alaska make it feel more like a home than ever before?

“You’re such a brat, you know that, right?” At the sound of Sharon’s voice Cerrone hops off of Alaska, allowing her to get up to greet Sharon.

“Lies, mama. You’re full of lies.” Alaska laughs and presses a kiss to the dimple in Sharon’s chin. “What’d you get me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know. Go lie down, pumpkin.” Sharon kisses the side of her hair and gives her ass a tap before Alaska nods and heads to the bedroom.

Alaska’s long and full on the bed. Her hips and breasts filled out more after being with Sharon. Sharon took her out for lunch and dinner, fed her cheesecake and other expensive desserts. She always made sure her baby was cared for. Alaska’s hips were soft and propped up with a long pillow, and her breasts were full and heavy against her chest as she breathed deeply, waiting for Sharon.

The rabbit vibrator Sharon comes into the room with is black. It’s not overly long, but the girth makes up for it. Alaska knows Sharon will have to stretch her, start with two fingers just so Alaska can feel the burn then stuff her with three.

“Mommy please…” Alaska draws it out, flutters her eyelashes.

She’s pouty and wet and Sharon kneels beside her on the bed, pulls one of Alaska’s legs up and out to spread her open.

“So wet already baby? Greedy girl.” Alaska screws her eyes shut at the words. “Open your eyes for me sweetheart. Watch mama.”

Sharon slips two fingers inside of the younger girl and Alaska cries, twisting her hips. Her fingers are thick and strong and they fuck Alaska almost mechanically, avoiding her g-spot but scissoring to stretch her open. It burns slightly and Alaska gasps, heat curling in her stomach. She can hear Sharon’s fingers moving in and out of her, can hear when a third one enters. Alaska tries to clench her thighs together but with Sharon between them she’s stuck spread open. She wants to move and squirm, clamp around Sharon’s hand, but Sharon’s got her hip pinned down and is kneeling above Alaska with so much dominance she’s stuck in position with nowhere else to go.

When Alaska’s stretched and dripping, Sharon presses the vibrator inside until it’s snug against both her g-spot and clit. Alaska’s whining high and nasally. Her eyes are dark and her fingers are tugging at the sheets and she’s watching Sharon desperately. It clicks on and she gasps and cries, her hip twitching at the sudden stimulation.

“I should buy you another one of these. A small one that slips into your panties.” Alaska whines and moves her thumb to her mouth, partly to have something to bite and partly to have something to stifle her pathetic cries. “Could turn it on while you’re out picking up dry cleaning. Or while you’re out with mommy’s credit card. Bet you’d love how everyone would watch you as you whined, unable to stop it.”

Alaska gasped as Sharon started moving the vibrator, slowly pressing it in and out of her slightly. It pressed so tightly against where she was the most sensitive and she cried out, thrusting her hips up into the pressure. Heat was curling in her stomach and she could feel her peak building. Her breasts were shaking above her in time with her panting.

“It’s pathetic, really,” Sharon stopped the vibrator, leaving it still and full in Alaska, “how desperate you are for me. Texting me while I’m out, expecting me to drop everything and come get you off like the greedy little slut you are.”

The twitch of Alaska’s thigh and how her eyes almost roll back remind Sharon of just how much she loves it. Being humiliated like that. She loves when Sharon makes fun of how wet she is, how open and soft she is and how she fucks herself on Sharon’s single finger wanting more, how turned on she gets when Sharon buys her expensive lingerie only to rip it off of her later because money isn’t an issue.

She wonders if Alaska could get off on it alone. Just Sharon’s fingers pinching her nipples, fingering her slowly and avoiding the areas she needed the attention so badly. Sharon would comment on how swollen she was, how it was cute that she thrust up and squirmed as if Sharon was actually going to give her what she wanted. She’d bite on Alaska’s nipple, laughing as she flicked the sensitive bud while leaning over the younger girl, still fully clothed. Sharon thinks she could do it. She’d cum untouched and almost instantly recoil, heat exploding in her lower stomach and her cheeks flushing. Sharon would laugh and watch Alaska’s cunt clench and shake before pressing a kiss to her pubic mound.

But for now Alaska was spread and shaking in front of her, thrusting to try and get the toy to touch her and push her over the edge.

“No, no, no, no mama please. That’s not fair.” Alaska’s voice is whiny and pouty, drawing every syllable out, and Sharon can hear her puffing out air through her nose. Tears gather in the corner of Alaska’s eyes.

“Nothing’s ever fair, baby. And you’re gonna take what I give so maybe I’ll let you cum.” Sharon gives Alaska’s thigh a pat once she’s come down from the edge, then turns the vibrator on low.

This time around Alaska yells out brokenly, hips chasing the feeling so hard Sharon has to pin her down with both hands. Her eyes are screwed shut and Sharon can see where tears start leaking from them. Alaska’s mumbling something incoherent and thrashing her head back and forth, digging her fingertips into the pillow under her head. The cycle repeats itself a few more times, bringing Alaska up to the edge and then ripping it from her. She’s become unable to form any words other than please, no, and mommy and it’s like some sick power move on Sharon’s part. How Alaska’s whole world right now revolves around Sharon, and whether or not Sharon’s going to let her cum.

When Sharon turns the vibrator up instead of off and presses it tight up against Alaska, the younger girl cries and pushes off the bed, thighs trying to close around the toy. Her whines are high pitched and she’s gasping. The wet sounds her pussy is making is obscene and Sharon watches her twitch and clench, all wet and shiny.

Sharon pets Alaska’s hair as she comes down, slips the toy out of her and puts it on the nightstand. She kisses around Alaska’s face and tells her she’s beautiful, that she did so good, mommy’s so proud. The bed dips when she leaves for only a second. She gets a glass of water and a cloth to wipe Alaska off, and grabs her sketchbook from where it sits in her purse. She fingers herself hard as Alaska comes back to her senses and licks around her nipple, trailing her airy hands across Sharon’s body.

Softly, Sharon kisses Alaska’s forehead when she’s sure she’s asleep, and pulls out her sketchbook.

tags - alaska thunderfuck, sharon needles, shalaska, smut, lesbian au, sugar mama au, mommy kink

It wasn’t something she ever saw herself doing. Or even thought about doing until Violet mentioned it as a joke while scrolling through her Tinder and Alaska got a text from her manager saying she was booked for significantly fewer hours than before. She’d used dating apps before, yes, she was a Pisces. Alaska was a gentle lover. She was passionate and caring because love was fulfilling and completing. The second half of the circle that was her life. She’d been on Tinder and Bumble and any other “lesbian” dating app that had caught her eye. She’d even been on some dates, some successful, some not. None of them led to the romantic fantasy she dreamed of though, given her settings were to girls her age who most of the times were experimenting in their college days and didn’t want anything more than to drink and fuck and not talk again. Alaska was 21. She was a junior in college, she could go to bars and order booze herself, she could pay her bills (barely) in her run down apartment, and if she wanted to change up her online dating profile a little to target a slightly different audience, she damn well could.

So, that’s how her Tinder was back up and running, bio set to Alaska, 21, my names yours, whats alaska? performance major at pittsburgh u, starbucks barista extraordinaire, pisces (but im more of a snake than a fish), and yes i am naturally a platinum blonde and preferences set to woman ages 30-50. Her manager was left on delivered but her landlord was texted and asked about rent being a few days late. She sent a silent prayer to anyone who was listening before settling into bed on her stomach and opening the aforementioned app.

The glow of her iPhone screen illuminated her face in the now dark room. Pittsburgh was busy outside, which was typical for a Thursday night when you lived in the middle of the city. Not what some would say was the good middle of the city, but middle of the city nonetheless. Middle of the city enough that Alaska was living paycheck to paycheck trying to make rent while her building simultaneously was falling apart. What was good though, was the handful of woman Alaska was willing to swipe right on. Katya, 35, former Russian gymnast and now a hot blonde yoga instructor.  Bianca, 43, a seamstress with dimples for days. Raja, 45, a makeup artist who happened to be drop dead gorgeous too, which wasn’t quite fair in Alaska’s books.

Sharon, 42, writer of indie horror films. Busty, blonde with hints of silver, permanent bedroom eyes and velvet lips. Her Tinder pictures were her with a raggedy looking cat, her with her head thrown back in laughter and a bottle Pabst, her in a silk robe with tortoiseshell glasses perched on her nose and a glass of champagne in her hand. Alaska hovered on the profile for a moment. She tried to take in the tattoos and the dimple in her chin. The high cheekbones and her sultry glare and the way her clothes hung to her curves. Her thumbs hovered and she sucked in a deep breath before super liking and clicking her phone shut. From under her pillow, her phone buzzed but she ignored it and pulled her blanket up to her chin.

—

The first thing Alaska does after she wakes up is check her phone and have a minor heart attack over the messages on her screen. Well, that’s a lie. The first thing she does is de-tangle her hair from the elastic it was in, push herself up from her mattress on the floor and stretch until she can hear her back crack, make herself a coffee, and then almost spill the scalding liquid on herself when she clicks her phone open.

Sharon: Well, aren’t you a sweet little thing?

Sharon: What are you up to doll?

The hot horror babe double her age had super-liked her back and messaged her first.

Alaska: oh shit sorry, i fell asleep last night !

Sharon responds in nearly a minute and they fall into easy conversation. Alaska mentions she’s up to nothing, really, as she’s not booked for work and there was still a good two weeks before she had to start classes again. The other woman mentions just writing and sketching, working on concepts but other than that doing “fuck all”. The conversation turns shallow, as online dating conversations usually do, and Sharon mentions how Alaska’s gorgeous, how her smile could kill and how her hips are mesmerizing. She asks for a picture and Alaska doesn’t know why she’s blushing all the way up her chest. Or why she spends 5 minutes trying to fix herself up to send a photo to impress a woman she doesn’t know.

—

It was only two nights later when Alaska had agreed to meet Sharon for dinner.

She had scoured her closet for something to wear on a date. Going to bars and clubs, sure. She had clothes for that. Clothes for a date with a woman 21 years her senior who showered her in compliments, was extremely blunt, and had a charmingly crude sense of humour? Yeah, can’t say she’s had to dress for that before. But there’s always a first time for everything. She settles eventually on a sparkly black bralette that dips in slightly to show her cleavage and a black pencil skirt. The length of the pencil skirt cancels out the sexuality of the bralette and the way the skirt hugs her hips, obviously. For good measure, she pairs it with a floral blue kimono and what she hopes are her best pair of black fuck me heels.

The restaurant Sharon had picked out was a couple of blocks away. It was some fancy vegetarian place that Alaska had never heard of, but from a quick Google search she concluded that it was definitely out of her price range and somewhere she could never imagine herself stepping into. It’d be like a bull in a china shop, out of the ordinary and a very bad idea. She wasn’t fancy. Sure, one day, when she was a performer making millions maybe she would’ve returned to the city and ate at some fancy vegetarian restaurant. But now, a simple Starbucks barista who had a mattress in the corner of her room and wallpaper made of sketches and drawings? Nope.

It’s only when she got to the restaurant that she realized she was shaking. Why was she so nervous? She had thanked her Uber driver with a nervous smile and rated five stars, watching as he drove away while wringing her hands together nervously.

The inside was beautiful. All velvet upholstery. There was soft music playing and the walls were lined with paintings. It was classy and chic. And it smelt expensive. There was even a maître d who eyed her as she stood, nearly trembling in her heels like a deer caught in the headlights. It was embarrassing and she thought for a moment of just leaving. She was here to have a good night and hopefully get laid by an extremely hot woman and she was in it to win it but right now she wasn’t feeling like a winner.

“Alaska!” A woman called from a booth in the right corner, almost completely out of view and Alaska dipped away from the maître d with a shy smile and scurried over.

She was more gorgeous in person, somehow. Her blonde hair was clipped back from her face and the dim lighting didn’t reveal much, but Alaska could see the glimpses of silver where stray locks of hair fell around her face. Her cheekbones were high and her face was contoured and hollowed out. Her lips were pouty and plush. They’d be nice to kiss. Probably. Hopefully. Her tortoiseshell glasses were perched on her nose and Alaska could see from behind them where Sharon’s eyeshadow was creasing slightly where it fell into her crows feet. She wanted to brush it away, feel Sharon’s soft looking skin under her fingers.

Strong arms were hugging Alaska before she was able to process what was happening. Sharon was warm around her, rubbing her back and squeezing her waist. Her short sleeved blazer and pencil skirt was clinging to her body, the burnt orange contrasting with the black of Sharon’s bra that was spilling from where the buttons didn’t go quite high enough. Alaska trailed her eyes up the long leather gloves she was wearing and over the tattoo of a phone number just where the gloves ended above her elbow.

“Sit, sit! Hi darling, how are you?” Sharon’s eyes twinkled as she sat back down, pouring out two glasses of wine from the bottle already sitting on the table.

“I’m, uh, really well! Thank you! How about yourself?” Alaska smiled, graciously taking the wine. Maybe the alcohol would soothe her nerves. “Also sorry for running a bit late. Traffic. You know.”

“Don’t even worry about it!” Sharon shrugs and smiles before reaching out and resting her hand over Alaska’s on the table.

Sharon is touchy. Her heel clad foot is hooked around Alaska’s ankle and trailing up and down her calf slowly. Goosebumps raise on Alaska’s skin and she wonders if Sharon can feel them, or if she can sense when her breath catches in her throat and her cheeks flush. She’s always reaching across the table and taking Alaska’s hand in her own, bumping hands when passing a menu over or leaning across to grasp at her arm when Alaska says something funny enough to make Sharon throw her head back in laughter.

They talk and eat and drink. Sharon leans forward to feed Alaska bites of her risotto, claiming that her soup simply can’t be enough and she doesn’t care about the price. The waitress comes and goes with another bottle of wine and Alaska pours herself another glass, stains it with her lipstick and Sharon makes her laugh so hard red wine comes out of her nose much to her embarrassment.

Her eyes are bright and intense. Sharon’s asking Alaska about where she works, what she does. Alaska’s cheeks are pink from the attention but she doesn’t mind, really. Sharon listens when she talks about being a performance major, how she loves plays (especially musicals) and how she writes songs (but they’re mostly parodies, because they’re more fun) and how she really wants to make it big some day. She listens as Alaska talks about her brothers, who are either doctors or in the military and the wine talks about how sometimes she feels a little bit ashamed of herself for not being as successful as them. Sharon is intelligent yet ditzy, listening when it’s important, sniping in with comments and questions when necessary, sometimes distracting herself with a related story from her past or a pop-culture reference Alaska raises her eyebrow at. It’s nice.

Sharon’s gloved hands are on her arm and then in her purse to pay the bill and leave a very generous tip. Alaska’s eyes widen at the price but Sharon is already pulling her away and outside with an arm around her waist. Her grip is strong and steadies Alaska where she’s feeling tipsy and clumsy on her feet, heels clacking on the sidewalk. The flick of a lighter brings her back to her senses and she watches, hypnotized, as Sharon lights a cigarette and breathes deeply. Smoking has never been a turn on her for, really. But the way the smoke leaves Sharon’s soft lips and the way her eyes go hazy is enough for Alaska to press a kiss to her jaw so Sharon will hail a cab for the both of them.

The back of the cab is stuffy and hot. Sharon’s hands are on Alaska’s thighs and in her hair and Alaska’s eyes are dark. She shifts to wrap a hand around the back of Sharon’s neck and pull her in for a kiss. Their lips press together in a rush, teeth clinking. It feels so cliche and wrong, making out in the back of a taxi. Sharon’s hand is resting on her thigh and she’s nipping at Alaska’s lip so softly she has to hold back her moans. It’s dirty and wrong how much Alaska wants Sharon to take her right then and there, so luckily Sharon’s building is only a few blocks away and it’s not long until Sharon’s paying and tipping and pulling Alaska out of the vehicle.

They stumble past the doorman with a nod and Alaska forces herself not to think about how often Sharon must do this, stumble in drunkenly with a girl on her arm late at night. They press into the elevator and Sharon corners her as they go up the twenty-six flights to her apartment, peppering kisses on her skin and tugging at the hems of her clothes.

From the elevator down the hall to Sharon’s apartment is a blur. Inside, it’s all minimal decor and chandeliers and art on the walls. The floor is hardwood and the furniture is neat and tidy. In her drunken haze, Sharon manages to give a quick tour. Quick tour meaning pointing out the different rooms in the large apartment while stripping herself of her gloves and heels and Alaska following suit as Sharon drags her forward by the hand.

The master bedroom, somehow, exceeds Alaska’s expectations. But then again this woman was a mystery wrapped in an enigma and she wasn’t sure what to expect in the first place. The far wall is all window and she can see all the lights from the city flickering. A chandelier in front of the window from an apartment across the ways twinkles and Alaska can feel the wine in her bloodstream. The floors are dark, the walls are cream and the furniture is matte black. It’s elegant and chic. Alaska can feel Sharon’s eyes on her and wants the floor to swallow her whole. Against the wall is a king sized bed and the headboard is tall, the bars thin and simple and Alaska needs to be fucked and grasping onto them right now. There’s art on the walls and vintage movie posters and Alaska can spot an open sketchbook on the nightstand. Her eyes flicker back to the window when she hears a plane fly overhead.

“You like the view?” It’s more of a statement than a question. Alaska nods anyways. She can feel Sharon’s smile and flushes all up her chest.

Sharon presses her body up along Alaska’s back. She can feel the fabric of her dress and the softness of her breasts against her spine. Her hair brushes Alaska’s shoulders when it’s released from the clip and she has the urge to touch it. She wants to feel it through her fingers and sort out the greys from the blonds, hear Sharon sigh when she massages her scalp. Sharon’s warm against her and presses her forward softly until they’re standing in front of the window and Alaska can see people on the sidewalk. She wonders if they know what’s going on stories above them.

There’s a tug on the zipper of Alaska’s skirt then the cool air is hitting her thighs and Sharon’s helping her step out of it. The older woman hums. It’s low and soft and she can feel it against her shoulder when Sharon tucks her chin over it. She presses a kiss to Alaska’s neck and watches goosebumps rise where her lipstick leaves a mark.

Any other hook-ups Sharon would get the other girl to strip. Make her put on a show for her and work for it. Or it’d be fast and there’d be a trail of clothes from the front door to the bedroom. Like some X-rated drunken Hansel and Gretel. At least it served its purpose when Sharon pretended to be asleep and willed the other person to find their way out in the morning. But Alaska was different. Sharon undresses her slowly in attempt to take her all in. Her thighs were milky and soft. There were the slightest of pink stretch marks where her hips had filled out and the older woman took her time tracing them if only to feel Alaska shiver under her. The things she would do to keep the younger girl shivering under her hands. She slid her kimono off, followed by her bralette so she could cup her breasts and squeeze before pulling her underwear down her hips.

Sharon’s still humming. Completely nonchalant. Alaska has to wonder how many girls she takes home. How many of them she strips in front of the window. If she presses the pads of her thumbs into the underside of their breasts and pinches their nipples and hips just to hear them squeak. Sharon’s still fully dressed, save for her glasses, heels, and gloves that were shed earlier. She debated on keeping the gloves on, too. If only to see the way Alaska would shiver and blush when a cool leather finger would run through Alaska’s folds only to come out shiny and wet. Next time.

“Sharon…” Alaska’s voice is whiny and Sharon shushes her, tapping her finger on her lips until Alaska takes it into her mouth.

“What do you want, baby?” Sharon’s calm and collected. The opposite of Alaska, whose heart is beating against her ribcage so hard it may break. She groans in reply.

Sharon pinches at her nipple with on hand, slipping another finger from her other hand in Alaska’s mouth when she gasps in response. She stumbles forward slightly and presses her palms against the glass as Sharon wraps an arm around her waist to keep her steady. There’s people below bustling on the sidewalk and she can see the people in apartments over. Her breath comes out hot and the window fogs where it hits.

“I got you, it’s okay. Such a pretty baby.” Sharon pets her hair, it’s long and soft in her palm, “I bet everyone outside loves the view just as much as you do.”

Alaska’s thighs shake as Sharon removes her fingers from her mouth. They’re slick with spit and Alaska watches the trail of saliva between her lips and Sharon’s fingers, dips her tongue forward to lick it up. Suddenly, Sharon’s fingers press up against her clit and she groans. Her head falls back against Sharon’s shoulder and her fingers curl against the glass searching to find purchase. The window feels like ice against her skin. But it may just be from the way her skin is radiating heat and the sweat is sticking to her. Sharon rubs slow circles and watches how Alaska’s hip shakes. Her left thigh twitches when Sharon trails a single finger back and forth over the nerves and her hips jerk forward when she presses the heel of her hand against it in order to rub against her hole with her fingers.

“Tell me what you want. I just want to make you feel good.” Sharon’s voice is warm and she can feel the pout against her ear. She’s teasing. Her fingers skate past Alaska’s clit again and she presses the tip of a finger inside of her. It slips just past the muscle until the younger girl gasps and then it’s gone.

“Fuck me, please. Please mama. God.” Alaska’s whining high in her throat. Her throat catches on the mama and she flushes from embarrassment, all up her chest to her cheeks. Sharon kisses and smiles against her shoulder.

Alaska nearly cries when Sharon slips a finger inside her. Her pussy is warm and wet and Sharon fucks her slow. The sound echoes in the otherwise silent room and Alaska whimpers. Her centre is pink and swollen and Sharon relishes in the sound, slips another finger in without problem and scissors them just to hear Alaska’s embarrassed cry when she comments on how wet she is. Her fingers work slow and Alaska is squirming enough that Sharon has to wrap her arm back around her waist, pressing her naked form against Sharon’s clothed one to keep her still. Alaska’s trailing her hands backwards. Up into Sharon’s hair and down her side, around to her ass and thighs, then back down to try and intertwine their fingers and press Sharon deeper into her.

“Alaska baby, no. You’ll get there. I’ll take care of you.” Sharon tsked, her tone stern.

Alaska whines and curls her fingers into Sharon’s arm. Sharon digs her fingers deeper and crooks them. Alaska’s bowlegged knees buckle and she reaches out again to steady herself against the window and lean back against Sharon. Her eyes are glued shut and her lips are parted and Sharon works her so sweetly, pumping two fingers and swiping her thumb in soft circles around Alaska’s clit.

“You gonna cum? So beautiful. Cum for me baby girl.” Sharon murmurs. Her eyes are dark and downcast, shaded by her eyelashes.

Alaska finishes with a cry and her legs give out. Her small frame is shaking and Sharon holds her close, shifts them until they’re back onto the bed and Alaska is panting. The city light reflects on the sweat on Alaska’s chest. Her breasts are illuminated and Sharon leans down to nip at a nipple and Alaska gasps from the overstimulation.

Quickly, Sharon sheds her clothing, nearly ripping a button from her dress in the process. She shifts Alaska onto her back and moves to straddle her chest. Alaska’s panting. Her breasts fall when she exhales and Sharon watches how they shake, reaches out to pinch the skin around her nipple. Her thumb trails against Alaska’s lips and she opens her mouth for it, suckling it and groaning around the digit. A whine escapes her when Sharon pulls her thumb away and trails spit across her bottom lip to see how they glisten.

Sharon’s hips move of their own accord, shifting upwards until she’s against Alaska’s mouth. Her tongue laps out immediately. She presses the flat of her tongue against Sharon’s clit and hears her groan closed mouth. She prods more then, circling around the nub until Sharon is circling her hips above her and grinding against her mouth. Alaska moves her hands to Sharon’s thighs, gives them a squeeze and presses her nose against the groomed hairs. Her breath is cut off and she can feel herself flushing from the effort but she can’t find it in her to stop. The older woman is shaking above her and Alaska sucks hard on her clit. Wetness covers the bottom of Alaska’s face and Sharon whimpers before lifting herself off.

“So good. So, so good doll.” Sharon shifts until they’re both under the sheets and presses a kiss to Alaska’s lips, chin, jaw, cheek. She sighs out through her nose and pulls the girl close to her, nudging her knee between the other’s thighs and holding her head to her chest until Alaska’s breathing matches the beating of her heart.

—

When Alaska wakes, the spot in bed beside her is cold and there’s a dull ache deep in her skull. Sunlight filters in through the large window and Alaska has to squint to look around the room. The cream sheets are glowing pale yellow in the light. They’re soft against her skin where she feels sweaty and gross, and it takes a moment for Alaska to remember where she is. The framed poster for a campy 80s slasher films jerks her memory. Sharon.

She pads out of bed slowly, shifting over to the dresser where she finds last night’s clothes folded up neatly along with a pair of shorts and shirt that Sharon must’ve left out. It’s weird, almost domestic. Most hook ups don’t do this. But then again, most hook ups weren’t older goth women who spend over $100 at dinner without a blink of an eye then fuck Alaska in front of their gigantic window up on the 26th floor of a high class apartment. Alaska squeezes back into her pencil skirt and slips her bralette over her head while making her way out to the rest of the apartment.

There’s a note on the island in the kitchen, atop the granite.

I’m so sorry, I had to run before you woke up! You look gorgeous even in your sleep .. Is that weird to say?

Feel free to shower and help yourself to breakfast and coffee.

I would love to see you again, doll. <3

Sharon Needles

There’s a mug with little ghosts on it beside the note and it’s all too weird and too much. Alaska orders an Uber with the last of her phone battery, adds the number scribbled at the bottom of the paper into her contacts, then tucks the note into the back of her phone case. The doorman downstairs gives her a nod of acknowledgement when she eaves the building and as she got into her Uber she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

The rest of the day went by in a haze. Alaska took a cold, cold shower and puttered around her apartment making shitty coffee and a bowl of cereal before going to work. Her afternoon shift was full of fake smiles and frappuccinos and she spilled hot coffee on herself in a distracted haze and cursed, her co-workers giving her concerned glances. It wasn’t her fault. It was purely coincidence how she kept getting distracted whenever she noticed the crows feet on a lady sitting in the corner or the grey-blue eyes of the young girl she was taking an order from.

She texted Sharon when she got home.  

—

The next time they meet up it’s during the day in a nice area downtown. It’s a very Liberal area. Rainbow crosswalk and all. It’s chalked full of vegan restaurants and nice little expensive shops and it’s another area that Alaska would love to be able to walk down on a random afternoon and not feel intimidated, but that’s not quite the case right now.

Alaska’s in a white shirt tucked into a black skater skirt with a flannel, and half her hair is pulled up into two buns. She feels cute. And gay. And she hopes Sharon thinks the same enough to like, hold her hand or something, or finger her in the washroom of some mom-and-pop restaurant. Maybe both. She tries not to think too much about it as her Uber parks just down the road from the diner Sharon told her to meet her at.

The restaurant is small and cute, not to mention far less intimidating from the last place. There’re plants hanging from the ceiling and a large fish tank. It’s earthy and warm. Scanning the room, there’s no sign of Sharon but before she goes and sits down to wait she hears a soft ‘boo!’ from behind her. Alaska flushes at how she jumped in response and Sharon laughs, pulling her into a hug. The booths are made of worn down leather and the floor creaks slightly as they make their way to a seat. She feels far more “in her element” here, yet her chest still feels tight as Sharon sits across from her.

Her hair is soft and curled, but her eyes are dark and blown out and her lips are plump and red. It’s a dramatic look for one o’clock on a Tuesday, but Alaska doesn’t mind. Her black mock neck shirt hugs her body and her pants are tight and match her lips. It’s modern and chic and Alaska feels underdressed. But Sharon’s gaze is smouldering and trails down her body with a smile. It feels oddly familiar. Oddly comforting.

Sharon asks the waiter if they have Pabst in bottles, not on tap, (they do), and Alaska orders a lemonade. The menu is handwritten and cute, with tacky pun names and illustrations. A foot brushes up against Alaska’s and Sharon’s hand is on her arm. She’s humming as she reads, her lips pursed. Her cool eyes are squinted slightly from her lack of glasses and her crows feet crease slightly. It’s endearing, really. Her fingers are tracing the blue veins under the skin and Alaska wonders if she can feel the goosebumps raising, or if she even realizes she’s doing it in the first place. She imagines Sharon can feel the blood pulsing under her skin. A steady rhythm. By the time the waiter comes back to take their order Alaska had barely read the menu and stumbles slightly, ordering a salad. Sharon shoots her a knowing smile, curling her fingers around Alaska’s small wrist.

“So what do you do, exactly?” Sharon raises her eyebrows at the question, letting her thumb rub at Alaska’s arm.

“Well…” She pauses to take a sip of her beer, “To put it simply I work on short films. They’re just independent projects, mostly horror. I’ve always loved the genre and I love creating and I had the money so I said fuck it, got a group together and we’ve been working together since. We have a pretty strong fan base too, fucked up if you ask me.” Sharon laughs, big and booming in the otherwise calm restaurant.

Alaska smiles and asks about her projects. Her eyes light up when she talks and Alaska can see how her cheekbones protrude when she smiles that wide. The older woman talks about horror movies she admires, how growing up the weird goth dyke made her truly admire the villains in films who got revenge on the preps and the jocks. Most other people would be terrified to hear how their date relates to the killers in these films, but with Sharon it makes sense. She throws herself entirely into her work. Throws herself into the scripts and the storyboards and all the inspirations. She’s always hovering around people on set and fucking with lighting and costumes then marathoning films she’s seen before and can probably quote word for word. This woman is intelligent and intense but spooky and stupid and Alaska doesn’t quite know what to make of her.  

They eat, and talk, and Sharon drinks a few more PBR. Alaska steals a fry from Sharon’s plate and dips it in the surprisingly good vegan milkshake Sharon had guilted her into ordering, just because she refused a lemonade refill and that just wasn’t happening in Sharon’s books. The older woman threw another fry at her for Alaska’s amusement. She was like a baby. A cute one, not an annoying crying one. She was one that you just wanted to keep cooing and giggling and happy. They ordered cheesecake to share and Sharon fed it to her across the table, watching as Alaska’s lips pursed around the fork.

When they go to pay, Alaska pulls her wallet out of her purse. Sharon tsks and gives her a warning look to put her wallet away, and Alaska tries to ignore the way heat pools in her stomach.

As they leave, Sharon snakes an arm around Alaska’s waist. It fits there, and Alaska doesn’t mind. Her hand dips into the curve of her small waist and settles on her hip. It’s a warm heaviness and Alaska has to walk a little closer to Sharon due to it.

“Y’know, I didn’t realize I was gay until my senior year of high school maybe.” Alaska looks down at the small ceramic ghost in her hand, thinks that Sharon might like it. Her voice startles Sharon from where she’s standing a few feet away looking at a similar ceramic cat.

“Really? You come across as the loud and proud type. Like head cheerleader that all the bi-curious girls go to behind the bleachers to get their lesbian cherry popped.”

“Okay fair enough. Let me guess, little goth bitch who punched out anyone who tried to cuss you out for being a dyke?” Alaska fires back, putting down the small ghost and patting its head.

“I’ve had my fair share of physical encounters . I’ll admit to that. No shame in punching someone’s teeth in when they disrespect you.” Sharon raises her eyebrows in question to Alaska, “Although it did take half of freshman year before I started fighting back. I don’t eat meat but I’ll use ‘em to nurse a black eye if I have to.”

The older woman laughs but Alaska can’t help but imagine her younger, smaller. 14 year old Sharon nursing her wounds because some asshole thought she was a good target. 14 year old Sharon reapplying black lipstick in an abandoned girls’ washroom. 14 year old Sharon being unapologetically herself despite her entire school seemingly working against her because she was a bit eccentric and queer. 14 year old Sharon going home and watching shitty horror movies as a distraction from the shit she had to deal with. It tugged on Alaska’s heart strings.

From antique shops to run down clubs to vintage boho chic clothing stores, they check them all out. Alaska tries on a dress that looks like it’s made of trash bags and spins, laughing as it floats up around her. Sharon hides behind a shelf in a costume store, popping out with fake teeth and a witch hat on to startle Alaska. Alaska tries on a horse mask at the back of the store, recalling how people in school used to call her horse face . It doesn’t bother her anymore though, and she neighs in the mask before ripping it off and laughing.

“If we ever get into a fight I’ll just buy us animal masks. You can’t be pissed off at someone when you’re a fucking horse and they’re a frog” Sharon shifts through the masks, laughing before pulling on Alaska’s arm back to the front of the store.

The next store they go into is pastel and airy. They sell lingerie and chiffon peignoirs, lace slip dresses and thigh high stockings with matching garters. It’s all out of Alaska’s price range. This isn’t just a store that you go to when going out with friends shopping. She knows this. And she knows Sharon knows this. Sharon walks in like she owns the place, one arm still wrapped around Alaska’s waist like she owns her and the other weaving through fabrics.

“What’s your size, baby?” Sharon presses a kiss to her cheek and Alaska can feel her throat close in.

Her fingers clench into a fist. She’s sweating. Why is she sweating?

“Uh, I’m a 36C. Medium for everything else, I guess.”

Sharon hums and shifts through the isles. The bags on her arm dig into the skin, making it pink and white. Alaska wants to kiss it. Sharon purchased some tacky looking Halloween knick-knacks, and anything Alaska looked at for over ten seconds and seemed interested in. It made her blush when Sharon insisted on buying it. They both drift around the store for a while, brushing off the sleepy looking girl who asked if they needed any help.

Eventually, they end up near the back by the empty changing rooms. Sharon pulls Alaska into one, pulling the pale pink door shut behind her and clicking the lock shut. It’s a roomy area, with a large mirror on the back wall. The two walls are lined with benches and there’s a small circle stool in the corner. Alaska can feel the air heating up. Or maybe it’s just her. Sharon’s hanging things up on the hooks and looking back at Alaska expectantly when minutes pass and she’s still fully dressed.

“Don’t be shy, baby.” Sharon’s voice is soft. Her thighs spill outwards from where she’s sitting on the stool and she crosses her legs, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands.

Alaska sucks in a breath before stripping, gauging her actions based on Sharon’s face. She tries on all the pieces Sharon picked out, ranging from sheer bras and thongs to intricate high wasted panties with matching garters and stockings. She tries on all the robes and slips, lets Sharon run her hands over the silk dawning her thighs. She spins her finger and Alaska turns in each outfit to show how her ass peeks out of the underwear and how her hair runs soft down her back. Sharon’s making soft sounds.

When Alaska gets to the last set, black high waisted fucking crotchless panties with the bra and stockings to match, she feels her face go red hot. It was before, definitely, but this ensemble (if you will) was truly the cherry on top of this fucked up sexually frustrating sundae. She changes slowly, folding the last pieces and putting them back on their hangers on the wall.

“Can you be good for me?” Sharon’s voice comes as a surprise and Alaska nods, spinning around to face the woman.  “Sit down pumpkin. Spread your legs.”

Alaska’s head was spinning. She lowered herself onto the bench slowly and pulled at her knees to spread her legs. Sharon’s gaze was red hot and Alaska squirmed.

“You’re so wet.” Alaska could hear Sharon laugh and she twitched, moving her legs back together slightly. “No baby, you’re being so good. I wanna see you.”

Alaska’s lungs were collapsing. Her insides were burning and she felt so dirty and flustered and they were in a damn changing room . Sharon was fully dressed, legs crossed and lighting a cigarette even though it was against the rules because she just didn’t care. Smoke plumed upwards and she took a long drag, ashing her cigarette against the edge of the stool and turning back to where Alaska was squirming, the air conditioned air hitting her cunt.

“Can you touch yourself for me? I want you to fuck yourself with one finger baby, don’t want you to make too much of a mess.”

Sharon’s voice was so soft yet stern and Alaska wanted to cry. She grazed her index finger over her clit and jerked before tracing around her whole. She was wet. Just from trying on the lingerie and modelling for Sharon. Just being around Sharon. Sharon who had such a domineering energy. Sharon with her hand on the small of her back pressing her forward. Sharon feeding her cheesecake even when she thought she was full. Alaska pressed one finger in and gasped, squeezing her eyes shut to avoid the embarrassment of making eye contact with the other woman.

“Nice and slow, or else the whole store will hear how wet you are right now. Or would you like that? If someone walked back right now and could hear how wet you are, how you’re trying to hold back all your pretty little noises as you put on a show for me.” Sharon to try and relieve the pressure between her own thighs, “Touch your clit for me hun, with your other hand. You’re so good. So pretty”

Alaska gasped with the intensity of it all. Her thumb on her clit and her middle finger pressing up inside of her, shooting stars behind her eyelids. She could feel Sharon watching her, how her eyes were raking up and down her body as she thrust her hips into her own hands. The bench underneath her was probably wet but at this point she couldn’t bring herself to care. The dozy girl working up front could walk in on them, unlock the door from the outside and ask what was taking them so long and Alaska wouldn’t be able to find it in herself to care as long as Sharon wanted her to keep going.

“Sharon, I can’t, I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me baby.” Alaska’s hips shook and she clenched her jaw to try and keep her noises in as she thrust, panting as she came down from her high.

Sharon stood then and sucked Alaska’s wet fingers into her mouth. They left with a pop! and Sharon smiled, letting Alaska change in silence before purchasing everything she picked out and pulling Alaska into an Uber back to her apartment building.

—

School starts up again. Alaska’s in her final year of university. Soon, she’ll have her Bachelor’s Degree in Performing Arts. She’ll be able to move out to LA like she wanted and be successful. She can star in films and put out an album and make it big. She can make her parents proud along with her medical and military brother because she can be successful too! They all thought she wouldn’t make anything of herself. Sure, maybe she’d move out to LA like she’d always dreamed of, but make it big? Nah. Her mom was convinced she was just going to become some drug addicted deviant, but hey, isn’t that the superstar lifestyle anyways?

Alaska’s plans may have changed drastically. As the weeks turned into months, she spent less and less time at her own run down apartment. It wasn’t that she moved in with Sharon, per se, it was just that over time she had ended up moving out of her apartment. Not to mention Sharon had seen one text from her landlord saying that her rent was far overdo and got so worried, telling Alaska to not worry about it because she had it covered. (Which was embarrassing on Alaska’s part, considering any time not spent in a lecture hall was probably spent working, but inflation was a bitch, y’know?). So it’s not like it was some big ordeal when two and a half months into whatever they had, Alaska was staying there most of the time. She just needed a place to stay until she could find somewhere she could actually afford, and Sharon was willing to give her a helping hand! It also helped that Sharon had a tongue that made her see God.

The move in was gradual. Alaska had a healthy collection of clothes and lingerie at Sharon’s apartment, just from previous dates where Sharon insisted she buy everything for Alaska because it just looked so cute on her and she had her own bills to pay, so Sharon would buy. Eventually, a toothbrush showed up in the holder beside Sharon’s. And Alaska’s fancy purple shampoo she splurged on to keep her hair platinum. And a collection of socks and pajamas and other clothes that Alaska would just happen to leave there but never return to her apartment. Of course, since so much of her wardrobe and electronics and chargers and, well, everything, somehow ended up at Sharon’s flat, Alaska spent more and more time there. It was just convenient, that was all.

Alaska’s life was good. Different from where she thought she would be at this point in her life, but good. Violet was hounding her about the “friend” she was staying with, and about how she seemed to have that “post-sex glow” (as she liked to call it) 24-fucking-7, but Violet was a bitch and too nosy for her own good.

She spent her afternoons in the living room of the apartment, practicing lines from a production that was worth quite a hefty amount of her grade. Cerrone was her only spectator. He didn’t throw rotten tomatoes or boo her off of the coffee table stage though, so she takes what she can get. Sometimes Sharon would come home early and watch her, give her pointers and then tell her to stop repeating the same damn lines for the 50th time and put her mouth to good use. It was a good break. Sharon brought up the idea a few times, putting Alaska in some of her short films. It’d be fun! The gorgeous ditzy blonde in a gore-y horror short film? Instant blockbuster! People love cliche shit like that. Plus, Sharon would love to have Alaska on set with her all day.

It was nice, truly. Sharon took them out for dinner or made fancy vegetarian meals. She’d wake Alaska up with her head between her thighs, leaving Alaska to shudder awake in a cool sweat and groaning. There’d be small notes with hearts on them when Sharon would disappear before Alaska got up. Sharon would have an Uber waiting outside Alaska’s Starbucks location when she was done work, and sometimes Sharon would even pop in herself to visit even though Alaska knows she’d rather support local businesses than the industry coffee shop she worked at. Sharon bought her fancy clothes and shoes and lingerie just to see Alaska blush and squirm. Alaska would get all quiet and call Sharon mommy and curl up on the couch beside her, pressing kisses to her neck to distract her from the movie she was watching. Or, she’d get bratty and call her mama , call Sharon on set when she was in the apartment alone touching herself. Life was good.

—

Alaska more or less moving in only proved to show how needy she was. She was worse than a pet, but Sharon only had Cerrone to compare her to so maybe it wasn’t the fairest comparison. They both bit Sharon, though. Alaska would text Sharon while she was on set, something along the lines of noodles i miss you :( when are you going to be hoooome? sharonnnn i need you. mama please with an image attached of Alaska leaning up against the pillows wearing one of Sharon’s old shirts, with the tip of one thumb in her mouth and two fingers from her other hand knuckle deep in her cunt. Sharon would have to call it a day early and rush home, finger fuck Alaska into the couch cushions until she saw stars and called Sharon mommy despite how embarrassed she got after.

Sharon loved it, how open Alaska was becoming with her. She stopped hiding her phone calls with her brother, instead she would saunter around the kitchen and sit herself upon Sharon’s lap while she listened to Cory talk about the girl he met at the gym. Sharon would tickle her thigh, slip a finger into her panties just to feel how wet she already was and circle her clit until Alaska hung up the phone. Alaska would come back from her lectures and talk about her professors and how her auditions went. She’d write her essays on the leather couch while Sharon painted her toenails baby pink, ate her out while they dried and let Alaska drop her notes and pen onto the hardwood. Sharon liked how Alaska was becoming less shy, how she would pout when she didn’t get her way and call Sharon mama in public just to be a brat and start a scene. Alaska would press kisses to her cheek unprompted, would stop shying away when Sharon payed their dinner bill and bought her fancy lingerie and shoes, would let Sharon give her glasses of wine all day and press on her bladder while fingering her until she cried.

Today was no different. Alaska knew Sharon was out talking to some of her “creative partners” about an idea she had, an idea that she had been sketching and writing for hours after Alaska had fallen asleep on the couch beside her, toes tucked between Sharon’s thighs. She knew Sharon was having some sort of creative breakthrough and was busy. But Alaska was in the apartment alone, and Sharon had left before she woke up. So now she was just lonely and sad and her underwear shifted coldly against her.

lasky <3: noodles when will you be home?

noodles <333: I don’t know baby .. The girl I’m at lunch with is a really talented costume and prop designer. Even if she is a bit stand-offish.

lasky <3: but i neeeeeed you :(

Alaska sent a photo. She was in a sheer pink robe Sharon had bought for her. It was flowy and elegant and trailed behind Alaska on the floor when she walked. It made her feel like an old housewife. She wanted a spiral staircase, wanted to stand at the top of it with a glass of champagne in her hand. Underneath it she wore nothing. She was pouty and annoyed and leaning back on the couch pillows, lips parted and pinching a nipple between two fingers.

noodles <333: I’ll be home in an hour .. Picking up some things. Hope you know how spoiled you are. Brat.

lasky <3: :) :) :) <3

When Sharon gets home, her heart nearly beats out of her chest. She’s had her fair number of romances. Mostly with woman her own age, sometimes younger. Some of them even made it past the six month mark in their relationship. There was something about Alaska though that had Sharon’s head spinning. It was like her entire world had shifted by this girl and was spinning backwards on its axis. Backwards and upside-down. And double time. Whatever. Alaska was curled up on the couch, nude except for the robe, with Cerrone in her lap. She was humming softly to herself and her toes were curled into the couch cushions where her legs were folded underneath her. The natural light made her hair and skin glow and it was so soft and right. Long term didn’t usually work with Sharon. The only long term relationships she had were with cocaine and whiskey and fucking Cerrone the cat, who she didn’t even want in the first place. So why did coming back to her apartment daily to Alaska make it feel more like a home than ever before?

“You’re such a brat, you know that, right?” At the sound of Sharon’s voice Cerrone hops off of Alaska, allowing her to get up to greet Sharon.

“Lies, mama. You’re full of lies.” Alaska laughs and presses a kiss to the dimple in Sharon’s chin. “What’d you get me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know. Go lie down, pumpkin.” Sharon kisses the side of her hair and gives her ass a tap before Alaska nods and heads to the bedroom.

Alaska’s long and full on the bed. Her hips and breasts filled out more after being with Sharon. Sharon took her out for lunch and dinner, fed her cheesecake and other expensive desserts. She always made sure her baby was cared for. Alaska’s hips were soft and propped up with a long pillow, and her breasts were full and heavy against her chest as she breathed deeply, waiting for Sharon.

The rabbit vibrator Sharon comes into the room with is black. It’s not overly long, but the girth makes up for it. Alaska knows Sharon will have to stretch her, start with two fingers just so Alaska can feel the burn then stuff her with three.

“Mommy please…” Alaska draws it out, flutters her eyelashes.

She’s pouty and wet and Sharon kneels beside her on the bed, pulls one of Alaska’s legs up and out to spread her open.

“So wet already baby? Greedy girl.” Alaska screws her eyes shut at the words. “Open your eyes for me sweetheart. Watch mama.”

Sharon slips two fingers inside of the younger girl and Alaska cries, twisting her hips. Her fingers are thick and strong and they fuck Alaska almost mechanically, avoiding her g-spot but scissoring to stretch her open. It burns slightly and Alaska gasps, heat curling in her stomach. She can hear Sharon’s fingers moving in and out of her, can hear when a third one enters. Alaska tries to clench her thighs together but with Sharon between them she’s stuck spread open. She wants to move and squirm, clamp around Sharon’s hand, but Sharon’s got her hip pinned down and is kneeling above Alaska with so much dominance she’s stuck in position with nowhere else to go.

When Alaska’s stretched and dripping, Sharon presses the vibrator inside until it’s snug against both her g-spot and clit. Alaska’s whining high and nasally. Her eyes are dark and her fingers are tugging at the sheets and she’s watching Sharon desperately. It clicks on and she gasps and cries, her hip twitching at the sudden stimulation.

“I should buy you another one of these. A small one that slips into your panties.” Alaska whines and moves her thumb to her mouth, partly to have something to bite and partly to have something to stifle her pathetic cries. “Could turn it on while you’re out picking up dry cleaning. Or while you’re out with mommy’s credit card. Bet you’d love how everyone would watch you as you whined, unable to stop it.”

Alaska gasped as Sharon started moving the vibrator, slowly pressing it in and out of her slightly. It pressed so tightly against where she was the most sensitive and she cried out, thrusting her hips up into the pressure. Heat was curling in her stomach and she could feel her peak building. Her breasts were shaking above her in time with her panting.

“It’s pathetic, really,” Sharon stopped the vibrator, leaving it still and full in Alaska, “how desperate you are for me. Texting me while I’m out, expecting me to drop everything and come get you off like the greedy little slut you are.”

The twitch of Alaska’s thigh and how her eyes almost roll back remind Sharon of just how much she loves it. Being humiliated like that. She loves when Sharon makes fun of how wet she is, how open and soft she is and how she fucks herself on Sharon’s single finger wanting more, how turned on she gets when Sharon buys her expensive lingerie only to rip it off of her later because money isn’t an issue.

She wonders if Alaska could get off on it alone. Just Sharon’s fingers pinching her nipples, fingering her slowly and avoiding the areas she needed the attention so badly. Sharon would comment on how swollen she was, how it was cute that she thrust up and squirmed as if Sharon was actually going to give her what she wanted. She’d bite on Alaska’s nipple, laughing as she flicked the sensitive bud while leaning over the younger girl, still fully clothed. Sharon thinks she could do it. She’d cum untouched and almost instantly recoil, heat exploding in her lower stomach and her cheeks flushing. Sharon would laugh and watch Alaska’s cunt clench and shake before pressing a kiss to her pubic mound.

But for now Alaska was spread and shaking in front of her, thrusting to try and get the toy to touch her and push her over the edge.

“No, no, no, no mama please. That’s not fair.” Alaska’s voice is whiny and pouty, drawing every syllable out, and Sharon can hear her puffing out air through her nose. Tears gather in the corner of Alaska’s eyes.

“Nothing’s ever fair, baby. And you’re gonna take what I give so maybe I’ll let you cum.” Sharon gives Alaska’s thigh a pat once she’s come down from the edge, then turns the vibrator on low.

This time around Alaska yells out brokenly, hips chasing the feeling so hard Sharon has to pin her down with both hands. Her eyes are screwed shut and Sharon can see where tears start leaking from them. Alaska’s mumbling something incoherent and thrashing her head back and forth, digging her fingertips into the pillow under her head. The cycle repeats itself a few more times, bringing Alaska up to the edge and then ripping it from her. She’s become unable to form any words other than please, no, and mommy and it’s like some sick power move on Sharon’s part. How Alaska’s whole world right now revolves around Sharon, and whether or not Sharon’s going to let her cum.

When Sharon turns the vibrator up instead of off and presses it tight up against Alaska, the younger girl cries and pushes off the bed, thighs trying to close around the toy. Her whines are high pitched and she’s gasping. The wet sounds her pussy is making is obscene and Sharon watches her twitch and clench, all wet and shiny.

Sharon pets Alaska’s hair as she comes down, slips the toy out of her and puts it on the nightstand. She kisses around Alaska’s face and tells her she’s beautiful, that she did so good, mommy’s so proud. The bed dips when she leaves for only a second. She gets a glass of water and a cloth to wipe Alaska off, and grabs her sketchbook from where it sits in her purse. She fingers herself hard as Alaska comes back to her senses and licks around her nipple, trailing her airy hands across Sharon’s body.

Softly, Sharon kisses Alaska’s forehead when she’s sure she’s asleep, and pulls out her sketchbook.

[theatrekidgerardway]

Hey y'all! I did this bit of creative writing for an online workshop and ended up really enjoying it!

---

When Charlie first met Patrick D’Souza in the tenth grade, the first thing he thought was, “No wonder he doesn’t have any friends.” D’Souza was always hesitant; he had this pained look on his face like he was dying to correct you about something but knew a million reasons why he shouldn’t. When he spoke, which wasn’t that often, he was terse. His words were sharp like a knife and he spoke like he knew better than you. Though, knowing D’Souza, this wasn’t exactly inaccurate. He always had his nose in a book, but not some Harry Potter novel or something, it was usually something about economics and it was usually thicker than the school textbooks. D’Souza never ate in the cafeteria, always preferring the company of a teacher over, what he referred to as the “mind-numbingly idiotic conversations of arrogant teenagers- or even worse, the self-deprecating ones.” He wasn’t self-deprecating. In fact, most of his peers would classify him as arrogant. However, no one really picked on him or befriended him, few even spoke to him. At first, teachers thought it was because he was black, despite the diversity of the school, and considered reaching out to his parents. But, after close observation, they realized it was just because he got into a debate with anyone who ever tried to start a conversation with them, and students just got tired of him. Charlie didn’t really care about the hostility, however, and struck up conversation with Patrick on multiple occasions. He didn’t like D’Souza all that much, didn’t pity him either. He was just curious. D’Souza never seemed like he was paying attention in class. He looked like he was focused on something better but still managed to get straight A’s the entire time, though every teacher mentioned something about his lack of social skills in class during parent-teacher conferences and on report cards. Eventually, they realized their efforts were futile. At least, until Charlie Cambell started showing up at lunch in their classrooms.

-

When Charlie thinks of Patrick D’Souza, he thinks of muffled snickers and judgemental snorts of laughter behind his sleeve. He thinks of long rants about how useless their shared physics teacher was while sitting on the empty bleachers at the high school long after dark. He thinks of the crackle of popcorn in the microwave and the soft melodies that Patrick played on the piano for him all those years ago. He thinks of loud delirious laughter derived from a moment that they couldn’t have recalled, but it didn’t stop their sides from aching as they sat together and talked about nothing.

Sometimes, he wonders what life would’ve been like if they had stayed in touch. If it would’ve been different, better. He thinks about graduation. The way that he was blind to how soon it would be until they had to go their separate ways, how fast it all happened. Charlie thinks life would be a hell of a lot worse if he still knew Patrick D’Souza, but that doesn’t stop him from combing through his yearbook to see if he was smart enough to write his phone number down. He wonders if this is how most people feel when they end up back in their childhood bedroom. If they feel this aching nostalgia for the worst years of their life. He hopes to God that they do; he’d hate to be torn up over someone like Patrick goddamn D’Souza.

Charlie closes his eyes and tries to think about anything else. He lets everything wash over him: the shuffles and conversation of family and people downstairs; the creaky floorboard on the staircase that prevented him from ever sneaking out of the house through the front door; the familiar buzz of the boiler that always kept him up at night, and caused him to frequently roll out of his window and bike to Patrick’s house. He thinks if high school was supposed to be the worst years of his life, he did pretty okay. Charlie sighs and looks down at the ten digits screaming up at him in neon green gel pen from the slick, mostly blank pages, of the signature page. He tells himself that he is perfectly calm and puts the new-old contact into his phone.

Five hours and a lot of contemplation later, he shoots off a single text. Hey. Simple, slightly pathetic, but still simple. Stupid, he belatedly realizes, when he gets a response. Who is this? Bracing himself for a whole lot of feelings, he types out: Charlie Cambell, from high school. I’m in town, visiting family. You wanna meet up? He holds his breath for no particular reason, and his heartbeat spikes with every movement those ominous three dots make before he gets a reply.

Sure.

-

When Charlie sat down with Patrick D’Souza eleven years after graduation at a coffee shop in Queens, he thought his once-best friend had been replaced by a clone. For one thing, the guy wasn’t drinking the disgusting ‘black coffee, no sugar, no cream, thank you very much’ that he ordered almost constantly when he was at the ripe age of seventeen. Instead, he had ordered, and this nearly gave Charlie a heart attack, because D’Souza ordered a goddamn pumpkin spice latte. The same drink that he claimed to abhor years before he was enjoying with gusto while sitting right in front of Charlie. But the most astonishing thing about Patrick D’Souza, besides the fact that he’d managed to maintain small talk with Charlie without bringing up politics, was his job.

“I’m a therapist.” Charlie gaped at him. The least empathetic, possibly most arrogant person he had ever met (and Charlie was friends with some absolute jackasses when he was a teen), with his hoity-toity books and his constant corrections of how you’re supposed to live your life, spent his adult years helping other people.

Finally, Charlie replied, “You’re joking, right?” Patrick laughed in response. Charlie listened to the sound; it’s so different from the subdued giggles of high school. This — this was an actual laugh. Loud and boisterous and a little embarrassing, but he looks at Patrick D’Souza and his wide grin and the telling flush barely visible on his dark cheeks but visible nonetheless and wonders why he didn’t stay friends with this guy after high school. Then, he remembers high school and realizes there were many good reasons for that.

“Well, I don’t blame you for saying that. I was kind of awful as a teenager.” Patrick winced.

“Kind of? You were a goddamn fool. I’d know, I was the one who had to deal with you every day for three years straight.”

“And whose fault is that? You could’ve left me alone anytime you wanted. Jesus, I don’t know why you even spoke to me, to begin with.” Patrick sipped his coffee and stared off into space; he looked like he’s pondering the universe, but Charlie would be unsurprised if he was actually thinking about food. He lets the silence stretch on for a few minutes before answering the implied question.

“For the record, I befriended you because I couldn’t dissect you like I could with the rest of the student body, and decided that was awful.” Patrick raised his eyebrows.

“Gee thanks,” Patrick took another gulp of his latte, “I guess I should be glad it wasn’t out of pity? I genuinely don’t know how to respond to this.” He looked a little bitter, but his voice was light enough that Charlie knew he hadn’t pressed any nerves.

“Kind of a dick move, but I was sixteen, and most sixteen-year-old boys make decisions that are made up exclusively of dick moves, so I don’t feel too bad about it.” Patrick snorted mid-drink, splashing a little coffee. Charlie grinned.

“Hmm, nice to know little has changed since I last saw you then.”

“Excuse you, I happen to be a charming young man. My nan told me so herself,” Charlie stated proudly with a playful smirk.

“Oh, Old Lady Cambell? Lord, I hope her dementia hasn’t let her believe her grandson is anyone other than the little shit he truly is. Please, I’ve met your grandmother; the only person who’s more aware of how awful you can be is, well, me,” Patrick replied, an easy smile on his face.

“Yes, I suppose you did have a front-row seat to the shit-show that was my personality in high school. I’d like to think that I wasn’t as bad as my mom says, but something tells me I was worse.”

“It’s me. I’m something. I’m telling you, you were worse.”

“Piss off,” Charlie exclaimed with a smile. “You can’t pretend like you were an angel back then, though. Judgemental idiot with dreams of being on Wall Street. Look at you now, drinking coffee at a Starbucks and reminiscing with old friends from school. Something tells me your younger self would be appalled at what you’ve become. What happened to that, anyway? The business, I mean,” Charlie asked, leaning forward in his seat. Patrick’s wide smile dimmed into a thin line. His eyes grew clouded and far away as he stared down intensely at his cup, brows furrowed and voice quiet.

“Um, sophomore year of college. My dad passed; car crash, drunk driver, you can put the pieces together. I took over for a few months, but years, and I mean years of preparation — ” His voice cracked a little. “I was in love with the idea, but only the idea. I memorized the information, I didn’t understand how hard it would be. I ended up signing it off to my uncle, and going back to an undeclared major my junior year.” Patrick paused with a sigh, and Charlie glanced up at him. 

The noise of their surroundings felt suffocating, too insignificant; Patrick was telling him about the death of his father and questioning his life’s purpose while people all around them were just happy to sit and live their lives in complete ignorance of the conversation. Charlie had the intense urge to stand up and yell at everyone for no real reason but pushed that down as Patrick continued. 

“I don’t think it was pressure from my dad, at least, not entirely. It was all internal. Pressure from me, to be the best and do my best and take over this great company and be the great leader and person I thought I had to be, y’know? It was this desire to reach this destiny that I thought I had to fulfill, this role I thought I had to play because it was the only role I ever knew. It never occurred to me that there were other options, and even when it did, I was too stuck-up to consider them.” Patrick stared up at Charlie, waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry, about your dad. I wouldn’t say he was nice, but he was a good person. How’d Dani and your ma take it?” Charlie said after a long pause. 

“As well as you’d expect. Aunt Teresa, the one who talks to trees, she came to take care of Mom for a bit. Everyone was in shambles, and Dani couldn’t do it on her own. They’re better now, after some gentle coaxing to find someone to talk to; Mom was convinced Father Lewis was enough, but I eventually got her to see someone. I’m seeing a therapist too, so the psychoanalysis of myself isn’t completely amateur.” 

“Better late than never, Lord knows you needed it in high school. So, why therapist? Any specific reason, or did you just throw yourself into the first degree you could think of?” Charlie asked.

“Well, it’s like you said. If I had a therapist when I was a teenager, I probably wouldn’t’ve had that mid-quarter-life-crisis. And, the whole point of being a therapist is helping people understand their emotions and deal with them. It’s a profession completely devoted to helping others. Plus, it’s definitely improved my social skills.” Patrick grinned, looking down at the table, and it seems to light up his face.

“Saying they improved implies you had social skills, to begin with,” Charlie joked, knocking his foot against Patrick’s under the table. They glanced up at one another, savoring the comfortable silence and chasing the last drops of caffeine in their near-empty cups. The conversation rose and dwindled with varying degrees of awkwardness for the rest of the afternoon until they were being kicked out by exasperated baristas and trying to stretch their time together so it was endless. Eventually, they parted ways with a promise for lunch the following Tuesday and a goodbye similar to a sickening couple going, “You hang up!” “No, you hang up!” before finally separating. And if they spared a few lingering gazes, well, it had been eleven years. 

-

Fin.

[cryptswahili]

Living on Bitcoin Day 5: An In-Store Buy At Last (Spoiler: It’s Pot-Related)

This is the fifth instalment of reporter Colin Harper's "Living on Bitcoin" experience in San Francisco. Find out what happened to him earlier on Day 1 , on Day 2 , on Day 3 and on Day 4.

I woke up in a millionaire’s bed today, something I never thought I’d say because I ain’t gonna make a million bucks, and I always doubted I could’ve finagled my way into the bed of someone who had.

Jeremy’s room is your prototypical festival bro living space: Bob Marley poster in one corner, jam band festival posters for Camp Bisco and Gathering of the Vibes (among other music festivals) tacked above a 50-inch, Toshiba plasma screen, which was leaning against the wall and propped up on the box it came in. A tangled cluster of conference passes (many speaker or VIP) hung from a back wall above the felt loveseat.

Below one of the room’s three windows, there’s a bookcase sectioned off into six cubbies, which include Hunter S. Thompson, Michael Lewis, Truman Capote, and some self-help and econ/business books. Almost poetically, a book called Ego is the Enemy appropriately placed in a cubbie diagonally opposite to the one housing Tucker Max’s Assholes Finish First.

On the third floor, I made the coffee I bought at Whole Foods, warmed one of the croissants and did some work.

Over Slack, my colleague Aaron van Wirdum suggested I try a map called Bitcoin Map on the Google Play store to see if it had any bitcoin-accepting places listed that I could be missing. I pulled it up, browsed some places I had previously tried but knew no longer did. Then, I glanced at Haight-Ashbury on the map one last time and noticed a smoke shop and one-time hookah lounge that accepted bitcoin.

On the off chance, I called them up.

“Do you guys still accept bitcoin?”

“Yes, we do.”

“Seriously?!”

“Yes.”

Exuberant, I let a triumphant expletive slip and thanked the woman, assuring her that I would be by later that day.

It would be a smoke shop that becomes the first place where I can spend some bitcoin, I thought to myself.

With that victory, my spirits were lifted and I began to make preparations for my day. Needing to get more credit for Uber, I tried out Gyft, a gift card purchasing platform that made Hill’s second run at this in 2014 so much easier. Vinny Lingham started it, and the platform accepts other forms of payment than just bitcoin.

I couldn’t use it though. I tried to buy an Uber gift card, but my Samourai wallet wouldn’t accept the BitPay QR as valid (which, given Samourai’s general crypto maximalism, made sense and also seemed to sum up the difficulties of the experiment to that point). I opted for Bitrefill again.

Then I started doing some research on Kraken and Coinbase’s locations in San Francisco. According to Google, they have the same office address, which I found odd.

Putting the address into my Uber app, I decided to make my way to the heart of San Francisco’s Financial District to see if I could pester my way into either or both offices. “Just show up and ask to talk to people,” Hill’s advice echoed in my head.

The addresses I got on Google led me to a mailing address, but then a bit of sleuthing got me addresses (supposedly) of the actual offices for both Kraken and Coinbase. Kraken’s, though, turned out to be a FedEx, which led me to think that my informant was screwing with me or that Kraken had registered that address intentionally so as to not be bothered.

Coinbase’s office was right, so I cut the informant some slack. I secured a receptionist’s number from the security desk in the lobby but didn’t really have time to make an appointment for later. This wasn’t 2013 anymore: I couldn’t just drop in on their three employees in an apartment office anymore. This was 2019 and Coinbase had become a unicorn with more than 500 employees and six offices in three countries.

The rain was light but steady when I was searching for Kraken and Coinbase’s offices, but it would come down progressively harder the longer I walked. I passed a Target on my route in which I could have bought an umbrella (Paxful and Gyft have Target cards), and it highlighted a problem with banking on bitcoin through gift cards. You have to preplan your purchases, or else you have to stop, connect to wifi, and use an exchange that takes bitcoin to buy new cards before you can redeem them.

It seems obvious, but it’s not as seamless as cash, debit or credit. Even so, there aren’t so many hoops to jump through — just enough to make doing so outside in the rain an inconvenience.

My denim jacket was thoroughly soaked, so I stopped inside a Starbucks and ordered a coffee with a Starbucks gift card I bought on Paxful. I ordered a seasonal latte, basic white boy that I am, but I had the barista only pump about a third of the usual flavor shots into it because I don’t like drinking syrup.

While downtown, I visited Quantstamp’s offices, as Christian had set me up with a buddy of his who worked there, Jared let me in and we talked crypto. He mentioned a bubble tea cafe nearby that used to accept crypto, but it proved to be yet another red herring, making me worry that maybe the smoke shop on Haight might not either.

Ubering back to the castle, I sent some additional funds to my Samourai wallet ahead of my trip to the shop. Rachel wanted to come along, partly I think for the fun of it but also because she was fiending for some Juul pods and was banking on my generosity to secure her some.

We reached the smoke shop shortly before close as one employee was busy allocating merch to a back closet. It was what you expected from a smoke shop: pieces, bongs and actual tobacco pipes in various sizes and in a motley of translucent, glass-infused colors. They sell smokes and vaping supplies too, but no Juuls or Juul pods (to Rachel’s great dismay).

Approaching the counter, I try to confirm what I’d been told over the phone.

“Y’all take bitcoin, right?”

“Bitcoin? Yes, I think,” said the middle-aged, Asian woman, hesitantly. “We used to at least. Ask him,” she says, pointing to the man stacking the backroom with inventory.

Her husband, a middle-aged, white guy with glasses, a mariner’s cap and close-shaven beard, who looks like he might read communist theory and know his way around a VPN, dashed my bitcoin-spending hopes with his answer.

“I don’t think so. Honey, do we still have the payment processor?” he asked.

They didn’t. Snapcard, which may have very well been the same defunct-processor that Woot Bear used, was no longer in service, so they stopped taking it some time ago. They had originally decided to start accepting bitcoin in 2013-2014 when it was “cool” to do so, and the husband was kicking himself for not doing it sooner.

“People would want to come in and buy rolling papers and we didn’t want to take it, which was stupid,” he chuckled.

I asked if they still had a Coinbase account to which I could send bitcoin, but the wife said that her son held the account and they didn’t know how to use it. After a few more failed attempts at trying to find a solution, I gave up, thanked them and left the shop.

As I left, I was convinced there was some grand conspiracy to keep me from spending bitcoin, until the woman peeked her head out of the shop to beckon us back.

“I think we figured it out,” she said.

Eager and a bit antsy, I leaned over the counter to observe her Coinbase app while I tried for the items I had picked out (a glass piece that’s totally not for me and white sage for the castle). As it turned out, they weren’t verified with Coinbase, so they could only buy/sell on Coinbase and not send/receive. This annoyed me: Why do one when you can’t do the other?

“It’s ok,” I said, resigned at this point.

But the woman insisted. She was nice enough to let me just scan the QR code for her son’s wallet, and she even gave me a five buck discount on the piece.

Effusive, I thanked them and asked for their names, which they prefered I not publish here. Apparently, San Francisco is not too friendly to tobacco shops.

“The city is trying to annex the smoke shops,” the husband told me. That coupled with the stigma of bitcoin and the illicit drug market’s symbiotic dependence on the dark web (and the fact that the business is basically a head shop) made them wary enough of potentially damaging publicity.

The fact that the transaction almost happened then didn’t, only to almost not happen and then succeed was representative of how the experiment has been panning out so far. The bitcoin PoS was makeshift, but it finally happened, and I was happy enough to finally get the first IRL transaction out of the way, even if it came on day five. It was also directly peer-to-peer — no middleman payment processor involved, which I liked.

Finally, something to write home about.

Returning to the castle, I would spend the rest of the night fraternizing with the residents who were quickly becoming acquaintances and friends. They all had their own goals and projects, and the interactions in my short time with them will be worth a story one day.

There’s Rachel, who’s known Jeremy since 2015; Liz, the Queen of the Castle (obviously); Michael, a laid back relations or community manager who “kinda does crypto but not really;” Orest and Aymard, who work at Ausum Ventures with Jeremy; Teddy and Hans, who are building a blockchain query database for legal documents; Vivian, the VP of the same self-driving car startup, comma.ai, that used to reside in the castle’s basement; and a prodigious, 18-year-old developer-entrepreneur who runs his own AI financial consultation startup and whom Jeremy referred to once as his “protégé.”

“So, are you like the wunderkind developer prodigy of the house?” I asked him.

“Pretty much. But it’s not just that.”

“What, like you’re also the wunderkind entrepreneurial prodigy?”

“Something like that,” he responded with a smile and honest innocence.

He told me he would rather not be identified in the article because the banks and other businesses he works with don’t know that he’s still a kid, he confessed. That he had operated so long without them finding out was astounding to me.

The Prodigy began his company when he was a freshman in high school. No, not college (he never took that road), high school. In the company’s early stages, he decided to go all in on his vision.

“So I pretty much left high school.”

No diploma or degree to speak of, he moved to San Francisco when he was 15. In what would have been his sophomore year, he was focused on driving business growth while his peers were testing for learner’s permits.

An early investor in Ethereum and a sometimes crypto-head, he met Jeremy at a crypto castle party in 2017, and Jeremy would take him under his wing and offer him a home.

Now he works out of the community surrounded by the advice and the tutelage of the castle’s residents, who, while still young entrepreneurs themselves, have plenty of experience and tips to impart to the kid.

I highlighted The Prodigy here because or his age and precociousness but also because the whiz-tech kid who eschews education in favor of just doing makes for a pretty good story. Realistically, I could have profiled some of the other residents and their endeavors as well (for instance, I plan on doing an article on some of the innovative, impactful startups Ausum Ventures has invested in).

But The Prodigy particularly personified the house’s ethos: driven, focused, entrepreneurial and hardworking.

“Do you do drugs or drink?” I asked him.

“No. Never.”

“Good. Don’t,” I advised him.

Truth is, considering the portrait of the millionaire party boy that has been painted of Jeremy in the past, the castle was nothing like that. It wasn’t like the mainstream coverage would imply: no end-to-end daily benders or booze-infused ragers. I don’t think anyone even touched a drink while I was there. Everyone was busy working. As Rachel would tell me, “No one drinks here. They all have shit to do.”

As Kashmir Hill did in her original journey, Colin is accepting BTC tips to help him along the way.

Tip jar: 3CnLhqitCjUN4HPYf6Qa2MmvCpSoBiFfBN

This article originally appeared on Bitcoin Magazine.

[Telegram Channel | Original Article ]

[ellahmacdermott]

Living on Bitcoin Day 5: An In-Store Buy At Last (Spoiler: It’s Pot-Related)

This is the fifth instalment of reporter Colin Harper's "Living on Bitcoin" experience in San Francisco. Find out what happened to him earlier on Day 1 , on Day 2 , on Day 3 and on Day 4.

I woke up in a millionaire’s bed today, something I never thought I’d say because I ain’t gonna make a million bucks, and I always doubted I could’ve finagled my way into the bed of someone who had.

Jeremy’s room is your prototypical festival bro living space: Bob Marley poster in one corner, jam band festival posters for Camp Bisco and Gathering of the Vibes (among other music festivals) tacked above a 50-inch, Toshiba plasma screen, which was leaning against the wall and propped up on the box it came in. A tangled cluster of conference passes (many speaker or VIP) hung from a back wall above the felt loveseat.

Below one of the room’s three windows, there’s a bookcase sectioned off into six cubbies, which include Hunter S. Thompson, Michael Lewis, Truman Capote, and some self-help and econ/business books. Almost poetically, a book called Ego is the Enemy appropriately placed in a cubbie diagonally opposite to the one housing Tucker Max’s Assholes Finish First.

On the third floor, I made the coffee I bought at Whole Foods, warmed one of the croissants and did some work.

Over Slack, my colleague Aaron van Wirdum suggested I try a map called Bitcoin Map on the Google Play store to see if it had any bitcoin-accepting places listed that I could be missing. I pulled it up, browsed some places I had previously tried but knew no longer did. Then, I glanced at Haight-Ashbury on the map one last time and noticed a smoke shop and one-time hookah lounge that accepted bitcoin.

On the off chance, I called them up.

“Do you guys still accept bitcoin?”

“Yes, we do.”

“Seriously?!”

“Yes.”

Exuberant, I let a triumphant expletive slip and thanked the woman, assuring her that I would be by later that day.

It would be a smoke shop that becomes the first place where I can spend some bitcoin, I thought to myself.

With that victory, my spirits were lifted and I began to make preparations for my day. Needing to get more credit for Uber, I tried out Gyft, a gift card purchasing platform that made Hill’s second run at this in 2014 so much easier. Vinny Lingham started it, and the platform accepts other forms of payment than just bitcoin.

I couldn’t use it though. I tried to buy an Uber gift card, but my Samourai wallet wouldn’t accept the BitPay QR as valid (which, given Samourai’s general crypto maximalism, made sense and also seemed to sum up the difficulties of the experiment to that point). I opted for Bitrefill again.

Then I started doing some research on Kraken and Coinbase’s locations in San Francisco. According to Google, they have the same office address, which I found odd.

Putting the address into my Uber app, I decided to make my way to the heart of San Francisco’s Financial District to see if I could pester my way into either or both offices. “Just show up and ask to talk to people,” Hill’s advice echoed in my head.

The addresses I got on Google led me to a mailing address, but then a bit of sleuthing got me addresses (supposedly) of the actual offices for both Kraken and Coinbase. Kraken’s, though, turned out to be a FedEx, which led me to think that my informant was screwing with me or that Kraken had registered that address intentionally so as to not be bothered.

Coinbase’s office was right, so I cut the informant some slack. I secured a receptionist’s number from the security desk in the lobby but didn’t really have time to make an appointment for later. This wasn’t 2013 anymore: I couldn’t just drop in on their three employees in an apartment office anymore. This was 2019 and Coinbase had become a unicorn with more than 500 employees and six offices in three countries.

The rain was light but steady when I was searching for Kraken and Coinbase’s offices, but it would come down progressively harder the longer I walked. I passed a Target on my route in which I could have bought an umbrella (Paxful and Gyft have Target cards), and it highlighted a problem with banking on bitcoin through gift cards. You have to preplan your purchases, or else you have to stop, connect to wifi, and use an exchange that takes bitcoin to buy new cards before you can redeem them.

It seems obvious, but it’s not as seamless as cash, debit or credit. Even so, there aren’t so many hoops to jump through — just enough to make doing so outside in the rain an inconvenience.

My denim jacket was thoroughly soaked, so I stopped inside a Starbucks and ordered a coffee with a Starbucks gift card I bought on Paxful. I ordered a seasonal latte, basic white boy that I am, but I had the barista only pump about a third of the usual flavor shots into it because I don’t like drinking syrup.

While downtown, I visited Quantstamp’s offices, as Christian had set me up with a buddy of his who worked there, Jared let me in and we talked crypto. He mentioned a bubble tea cafe nearby that used to accept crypto, but it proved to be yet another red herring, making me worry that maybe the smoke shop on Haight might not either.

Ubering back to the castle, I sent some additional funds to my Samourai wallet ahead of my trip to the shop. Rachel wanted to come along, partly I think for the fun of it but also because she was fiending for some Juul pods and was banking on my generosity to secure her some.

We reached the smoke shop shortly before close as one employee was busy allocating merch to a back closet. It was what you expected from a smoke shop: pieces, bongs and actual tobacco pipes in various sizes and in a motley of translucent, glass-infused colors. They sell smokes and vaping supplies too, but no Juuls or Juul pods (to Rachel’s great dismay).

Approaching the counter, I try to confirm what I’d been told over the phone.

“Y’all take bitcoin, right?”

“Bitcoin? Yes, I think,” said the middle-aged, Asian woman, hesitantly. “We used to at least. Ask him,” she says, pointing to the man stacking the backroom with inventory.

Her husband, a middle-aged, white guy with glasses, a mariner’s cap and close-shaven beard, who looks like he might read communist theory and know his way around a VPN, dashed my bitcoin-spending hopes with his answer.

“I don’t think so. Honey, do we still have the payment processor?” he asked.

They didn’t. Snapcard, which may have very well been the same defunct-processor that Woot Bear used, was no longer in service, so they stopped taking it some time ago. They had originally decided to start accepting bitcoin in 2013-2014 when it was “cool” to do so, and the husband was kicking himself for not doing it sooner.

“People would want to come in and buy rolling papers and we didn’t want to take it, which was stupid,” he chuckled.

I asked if they still had a Coinbase account to which I could send bitcoin, but the wife said that her son held the account and they didn’t know how to use it. After a few more failed attempts at trying to find a solution, I gave up, thanked them and left the shop.

As I left, I was convinced there was some grand conspiracy to keep me from spending bitcoin, until the woman peeked her head out of the shop to beckon us back.

“I think we figured it out,” she said.

Eager and a bit antsy, I leaned over the counter to observe her Coinbase app while I tried for the items I had picked out (a glass piece that’s totally not for me and white sage for the castle). As it turned out, they weren’t verified with Coinbase, so they could only buy/sell on Coinbase and not send/receive. This annoyed me: Why do one when you can’t do the other?

“It’s ok,” I said, resigned at this point.

But the woman insisted. She was nice enough to let me just scan the QR code for her son’s wallet, and she even gave me a five buck discount on the piece.

Effusive, I thanked them and asked for their names, which they prefered I not publish here. Apparently, San Francisco is not too friendly to tobacco shops.

“The city is trying to annex the smoke shops,” the husband told me. That coupled with the stigma of bitcoin and the illicit drug market’s symbiotic dependence on the dark web (and the fact that the business is basically a head shop) made them wary enough of potentially damaging publicity.

The fact that the transaction almost happened then didn’t, only to almost not happen and then succeed was representative of how the experiment has been panning out so far. The bitcoin PoS was makeshift, but it finally happened, and I was happy enough to finally get the first IRL transaction out of the way, even if it came on day five. It was also directly peer-to-peer — no middleman payment processor involved, which I liked.

Finally, something to write home about.

Returning to the castle, I would spend the rest of the night fraternizing with the residents who were quickly becoming acquaintances and friends. They all had their own goals and projects, and the interactions in my short time with them will be worth a story one day.

There’s Rachel, who’s known Jeremy since 2015; Liz, the Queen of the Castle (obviously); Michael, a laid back relations or community manager who “kinda does crypto but not really;” Orest and Aymard, who work at Ausum Ventures with Jeremy; Teddy and Hans, who are building a blockchain query database for legal documents; Vivian, the VP of the same self-driving car startup, comma.ai, that used to reside in the castle’s basement; and a prodigious, 18-year-old developer-entrepreneur who runs his own AI financial consultation startup and whom Jeremy referred to once as his “protégé.”

“So, are you like the wunderkind developer prodigy of the house?” I asked him.

“Pretty much. But it’s not just that.”

“What, like you’re also the wunderkind entrepreneurial prodigy?”

“Something like that,” he responded with a smile and honest innocence.

He told me he would rather not be identified in the article because the banks and other businesses he works with don’t know that he’s still a kid, he confessed. That he had operated so long without them finding out was astounding to me.

The Prodigy began his company when he was a freshman in high school. No, not college (he never took that road), high school. In the company’s early stages, he decided to go all in on his vision.

“So I pretty much left high school.”

No diploma or degree to speak of, he moved to San Francisco when he was 15. In what would have been his sophomore year, he was focused on driving business growth while his peers were testing for learner’s permits.

An early investor in Ethereum and a sometimes crypto-head, he met Jeremy at a crypto castle party in 2017, and Jeremy would take him under his wing and offer him a home.

Now he works out of the community surrounded by the advice and the tutelage of the castle’s residents, who, while still young entrepreneurs themselves, have plenty of experience and tips to impart to the kid.

I highlighted The Prodigy here because or his age and precociousness but also because the whiz-tech kid who eschews education in favor of just doing makes for a pretty good story. Realistically, I could have profiled some of the other residents and their endeavors as well (for instance, I plan on doing an article on some of the innovative, impactful startups Ausum Ventures has invested in).

But The Prodigy particularly personified the house’s ethos: driven, focused, entrepreneurial and hardworking.

“Do you do drugs or drink?” I asked him.

“No. Never.”

“Good. Don’t,” I advised him.

Truth is, considering the portrait of the millionaire party boy that has been painted of Jeremy in the past, the castle was nothing like that. It wasn’t like the mainstream coverage would imply: no end-to-end daily benders or booze-infused ragers. I don’t think anyone even touched a drink while I was there. Everyone was busy working. As Rachel would tell me, “No one drinks here. They all have shit to do.”

As Kashmir Hill did in her original journey, Colin is accepting BTC tips to help him along the way.

Tip jar: 3CnLhqitCjUN4HPYf6Qa2MmvCpSoBiFfBN

This article originally appeared on Bitcoin Magazine.

from InvestmentOpportunityInCryptocurrencies via Ella Macdermott on Inoreader https://bitcoinmagazine.com/articles/living-on-bitcoin-day-5-an-in-store-buy-at-last-spoiler-its-pot-related/