#making fun of the assholes that ruined our lives

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

great news apparently my father is getting another divorce he was all like it’s none of ur business what happened like we don’t know exactly how that all went down we’ve been betting on marital issues for years and we were so right lmao

#he is losing his wife selling his house selling his business and he’s over 10k in debt to my mother for not paying child support #we are all laughing at his misery :) that makes us sound cruel but damn if there’s one thing we can all get together for it’s #making fun of the assholes that ruined our lives

[turcott3]

safety net

jack hughes x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, semi slow burn, a kiss, angst and some fluff ofc

positions masterlist!

~trippin’ fallin’ with no safety net~

-

you made your way into the bar, as it was your first weekend living in jersey. you walk in and head straight to the counter, asking for a drink that was sweet and didn’t taste too strongly of alcohol.

“hey stranger.” a voice says to your right and you turn your head.

“dawson?” you say, your eyes widening.

“hey y/n.” he says opening his arms for you to hug him, which you gladly accept.

“how have you been? oh my gosh it’s been what like 3 years.” you say smiling at your old school friend.

“i’ve been good, playing hockey here is fucking awesome.” he says.

“yes! that’s right you play for the devils, how could i forget you getting drafted!” the two of you laugh.

“well how’s your boyfriend? haven’t seen him in a few years either.” he asks curiously.

“funny you should ask, i broke up with him and that’s why i moved here.”

“wait really? why? you don’t have to explain if you’re not comfortable.” the brunette boy asks leaning on the counter.

“well things were so great when we started dating our senior year but within the last year he became a real fucking asshole, so i broke it off and moved away so he couldn’t try to find me and sucker me into being with him again.” you explain, leaving out any details you weren’t ready to share.

“well shit, i’m sorry y/n. i bet that hurt a lot.”

“it did but i’m over it, ready to find someone else.” you say and you practically see the light bulb turn on over his head.

“i think i have someone i want you to meet.” he smirks. you grab your drink and follow close behind him, holding onto his arm.

“hey jack!” dawson says to a brunette boy with bright blue eyes.

“what’s up daws, who’s this?” he says looking at you. you release dawson’s arm and give him a smile.

“jack this is y/n, y/n this is jack.” he says looking between you two.

“nice to meet you, jack.” you say.

“yeah, you too.” he smiles, causing a blush to burn in your cheeks.

“i have to go to the bathroom, you two have fun. don’t get too drunk.” he says giggling and walking off to the bathroom.

“so y/n, what brings you to jersey?” he asks.

“just needed a change of scenery from my hometown. dawson and i went to highschool together.” you tell him.

“oh wow, small world. are you still new to living here or?”

“yeah this is only my first weekend but i’m glad im already meeting people, it was getting pretty lonely.” you laugh.

“well now that you’ve reconnected with dawson, you have a whole new group of people to hang out with.”

“oh are you guys like on the same team?” you ask.

“yeah we are, my brothers around here somewhere. probably tongue deep in some random girl.” he laughs.

“is he older or younger?”

“younger.” he says taking a sip of his drink.

“oh nice.” you smile doing the same.

“can i get your number?” he asks.

“yeah of course.” you say as he hands you his phone.

“what have i missed?” a tall, curly haired boy asks.

“ah yes, y/n, this is my brother luke.”

“nice to meet you.” you say.

“nice to meet you too.” he replies.

“so where were you?” jack asks as i hand him his phone back.

“i was talking to john but i didn’t wanna ruin his game so i came back.” he laughs.

“johnny getting some ladies?”

“he sure was.” luke laughs, taking a sip of his beer.

“i see you’ve met the other one.” dawson says returning from the bathroom.

“yes i have.” i laugh at him. you spent the next 2 hours with the boys, enjoying their presence and the fact that you’d made some friends in your new town.

“well i think im gonna call it a night.” you say taking the final sip of your drink.

“let me walk you?” jack asks.

“yeah sure.” you accept and the two of you make your way out of the bar.

“did you walk here or drive?” he asks stopping once you made it outside.

“oh i walked, i live like two blocks away.”

“okay cool, show me the way.” he says.

“jack you don’t have to.”

“i’m not letting you walk back to your apartment by yourself at midnight in a big city y/n.” he says firmly.

“oh, thank you.” you blush and begin your walk to your apartment. the walk was filled with small talk and laughter, the chemistry between you two growing more and more with seemingly every step.

“well this is my place.” you say arriving at your door.

“alright, have a good night y/n. i’ll text you.” he says as you pull him in for a side hug.

“goodnight jack.” you say shutting the door behind you. it’s been 5 days and you already have a crush on someone you just met. it felt almost wrong. you had broken up with your boyfriend just two weeks ago. you couldn’t allow yourself to move on too quickly. your phone buzzed in your back pocket and you see that dawson had texted you.

dawson: glad you made it back safe!

y/n: thank you! except really you can thank jack

dawson: hahaha well i guess so🙄 have a good night y/n

y/n: you too, see you again soon?

dawson: yes for sure, season starts in like a month and a half i’m sure you’ll get sick of seeing me

y/n: doubt it

dawson: only bc ill bring jack

y/n: bitch

dawson: i’m messing with you lmaooooo goodnight y/n

y/n: goodnight daws😭

-

you woke up the next morning to a text from jack saying good morning, to which you replied with a simple, good morning. texting a new guy felt so wrong. you didn’t know what to do about it but you couldn’t ghost him so you figure you should just keep chatting and see what happens.

“lunch?” you say reading his next text. the boy asked you to lunch, to which you hesitantly agreed to join him. you made yourself a small breakfast to tide you until lunch. you sat on the couch watching tv, growing more nervous by the second. he didn’t ask you on a date, just lunch. maybe he just wants to be friends? after you ate, you put on a casual outfit and added a natural touch to your makeup. he texted the address and you left your apartment, hoping to arrive after him. once you arrive at the, what appears to be, small coffee shop, you’re greeted by jack smiling at the counter.

“sorry i’m a little late.” you laugh nervously.

“no don’t worry, i was just about to order. what do you want?”

“oh jack you don’t have to pay i can’t wait in line.” you say.

“now what kind of man would i be to let a pretty girl like you wait in line and pay for her own food?” he says boldly, a blush creeping up on your cheeks.

“an iced vanilla latte and a buttered croissant is good then.” you simply reply, finding a seat at a table by a large window. he meets you soon after, with a table number in his hand.

“you ever been here before?” he asks, noticing you staring out the window.

“i haven’t, i didn’t even know it was here until you told me about it.” you say redirecting your attention to the boy who already had his eyes on you.

“i come here sometimes, it’s like my special little spot for special occasions.” he smiles leaning back in his chair.

“what’s so special about this occasion?” you question, wanting real answers.

“it’s our first date.” he smirks causing your face to burn bright red.

“well i guess it is isn’t it.” you laugh.

-

once you arrive back at your apartment, you throw your purse to the side and kick off your shoes.

“what have i done? what do i do? oh fuck me, i can’t do this.” you say, that piece of your heart never healing from your past relationship. you couldn’t let go of the mistrust you felt. you never wanted to make the same mistake again, so you called dawson.

“hello?” you speak when he picks up.

“hey y/n, what’s up?”

“can you come over, i need advice.”

“yeah of course, send me your address and i’ll be there.”

“thank you so much, bye daws.” you say hanging up and sending him your address. you sat on your couch almost in a panic. you told yourself over and over to not do this again, especially this soon. a short 10 minutes later, you hear a knock on your door and you open it to see dawson standing there in his sweats.

“did i wake you from a nap?” you laugh.

“yes actually you did, but it’s okay, what’s up?” he says stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

“jack is what’s up.”

“oh?” he says plopping down on my couch.

“so we went out to lunch, he called it our first date.” you say.

“okay what’s the problem with that?” he says.

“you’re not understanding, my ex and i broke up what 3 weeks ago? i can’t move on, how do i know i can trust him?”

“y/n, jacks a nice guy, i wouldn’t have introduced you two if i thought otherwise.”

“i just think it’s too soon dawson.”

“relax, calm down, chill out.” he says standing up and placing his hands on your biceps.

“how am i supposed to be calm?”

“y/n, no one is rushing you into a relationship. you are not committed to the guy, you went on ONE date. you aren’t married to him, just relax. i know it’s hard, i don’t know all the details of your break up but obviously you let your mistrust cloud your vision of good people. i wouldn’t let you go down a dark rabbit hole, and you know that.” he says calming your nerves. dawson always had a way of getting to you and calming you down when necessary, even though it had been years since you last saw the boy.

“okay you’re right.” you say sighing.

“and you don’t have to worry, he’s leaving to go to michigan for a couple days tomorrow, so you can spend time away from him and just texting, so you can get to know him better without it being to serious for you.” he adds.

“perfect.” you laugh.

“now why don’t we chill out and watch a movie, you’re clearly stressed and i want you to clear your mind.” he states, grabbing the remote and switching on the tv. after a couple hours, dawson heads home, leaving you alone with nothing but your phone.

jack: hey i’m headed to michigan tmrw morning, hang when im back?

y/n: yes for sure!

jack: ok awesome, see you then

y/n: *loved a message*

you sat with your thoughts. you were terrified of the possibilities with jack, you couldn’t help it. it’s like your brain had been hardwired to push him away, but you fought the urge harder than anyone could ever know.

-

it had been about two weeks and jack returned from his trip a few days ago. the two of you have been texting nonstop. you learned the silly facts about each other and his personality shined through even on text. he was beginning to give you that glimpse of hope that you thought you’d lost for good.

“i just don’t know.” you spoke to dawson through the phone.

“he’s never texted a girl this long, he obviously likes you.”

“well you never know.”

“he has had women throw themselves at him and he’s rejected all of them. don’t you see it.”

“i do but i just don’t know if it’s the best idea.”

“y/n, just give it another go. go on another date with him. you won’t regret it, you and i both know that as much as you don’t want to admit that your crush is more than just a silly little crush.”

“god, daws you always know how to pick my brain what is wrong with you?” you laugh.

“um nothing, im just correct.” he scoffs.

“okay whatever, ill call him tonight okay?” you reply hoping it’ll shut him up.

“i’m holding you to it, so you better.”

“whatever mercer.”

-

“hello?” you hear a muffled jack on the other end of the line.

“hey jack, i was wondering if maybe you’d wanna go out again some time? i had a great time with you.”

“yeah absolutely!”

“does tomorrow work?” you ask, holding your breath.

“yeah i don’t have any plans. ill come pick you up at 1?”

“perfect.” you smile to yourself.

“i’ll see you tomorrow y/n.”

“bye jack.” you say hanging up the phone, wanting to scream with excitement. you had no clue how this could feel the way it does so soon after your breakup.

-

2 months later

“hey,” jack says shaking you awake.

“huh.” you groan opening your eyes.

“i have a skate to go to, ill be back okay?” he says, you fully processing your surroundings.

“oh, yeah okay. have fun.” you smile as he leans down to kiss you on the cheek. you’d stayed the night at his house just like you have for a few nights every week since your second date though you never established a label for your relationship, just placing the boyfriend name tag on him when you’re out by yourself, too afraid to use it around him. the idea of him leaving you to skate sucked, and you shoved down these feelings so they wouldn’t get in the way of anything. you never wanted him to leave your sight. you hated that you’d grown so attached. you pulled out your phone to call dawson, always filling him in with updates.

“hey miss hughes, what you up to?” he asks picking up.

“dawson stop,” you laugh, “i just woke up, jack just left for optional skate.”

“oh that’s funny i’m on my way there now.”

“i’m sure he’ll ive you all the details.”

“yeah he always does but you’re gonna tell me what’s going on in that little brain of yours first.”

“i hate when he leaves dude. i hate it. i feel like i have no right to be this attached. being around him makes me so fucking happy, it’s like all my problems disappear when he’s around. but i need to face it, he probably doesn’t even want me.”

“you’re lying but go on.”

“lying about what?”

“you really think he ever keeps girls around this long if he doesn’t wanna be with them? be for real with yourself y/n.” he says plainly.

“okay well, point is, i’ve grown attached and i don’t understand my feelings daws.”

“i think you love him.” he laughs.

“you’re crazy.” you scoff.

“did you listen to anything you just said?”

“what part?”

“god damnit, think before you speak y/n. the way you feel when you’re around him is love. practically in its exact definition.”

“it’s only been 3 months that i’ve known the guy.”

“bitch do you really think love has a timeline?”

“well n-“

“THEN GO GET HIM.”

“i’m not gonna go, he’s skating.”

“i meant it figuratively, just wait for him to come back and see how different you feel compared to talking to me on the phone. don’t leave. don’t panic and push him away y/n. give him a shot.”

“okay okay, ill talk to you later dawson.”

“alright, bye y/n.” he says hanging up abruptly. you knew deep down that he was probably right and you couldn’t admit it to yourself. you sat on his couch for a few hours, waiting to hear the lock turn again, when suddenly it did.

“oh hey, you’re still here? i thought you’d be gone by now.” he laughs, hanging his keys on the hook.

“no i wanted to stay, your couch is cozy.”

“well i’m glad you’re still here.” he says, kissing you on top of the head as he passed behind the couch. dawson was right, you felt giddy when jack entered the room, and the feeling didn’t settle. he returns back to the living room.

“you look like you’re thinking.” he says sitting down next to you. you sit up and turn to him.

“i am thinking.” you say, anxiety running through your body at full speed, knee bouncing.

“what’s on that pretty mind of yours?” he giggles placing a hand on your leg gently.

“i think i love you.” you say quietly, the words slipping off your tongue with struggle. you finally let yourself trip and fall. it felt almost freeing. his demeanor shifts as a smile grows on his face. he sits up to get closer to you.

“what was that?” he asks, smile growing wider.

“i think i love you. no no, i do. i do love you. i love you jack. i know we never attached a label to whatever we are but i can’t keep pushing my feelings away anymore. i just love you.” you say finally being able to lock eyes with him. he connects your lips in response, framing your cheek with his callused hand. when you pull away his gorgeous smile returns.

“fuck, i love you too y/n.” he laughs, a wave of relief washing over you. you couldn’t believe how jack changed your perspective on love and men so quickly but it never felt more true to you. you couldn’t deny your feelings anymore no matter how hard you tried. you finally let yourself fall, and thank god it was into the right hands this time.

-

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #nhl #nhl imagine #jack hughes imagine #dawson mercer #luke hughes #john marino #nj devils #turcs’ talk #turcs <3

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not asking if anyone else wanted something I ruined for everyone else?

I (16m) am kind of the garbage disposal of the family. I eat stuff they don't like. Onions, pickles, olives and so on get tossed on my plate. I was also recently handed a bunch of raisins from my younger sister(13) and her friend's(13multiple) traillmix? They were all eating a little bowl of it then gave me the bowl of raisins. It was weird but I did eat them.

Basically my family and I do not agree on what constitues as gross and/or inediable.

Much like the fact that I am obsessed with Marmite. I could live off the stuff. I eat it more than I should but I can't eat it in front of my family. I typically have to hide in my room. The reason for that is that because they hate it so much the can't keep their comments to themselves on how disgusting it is that I eat it. It's to the point that I'm kind of insecure because even just us seeing it or hearing about it makes them go "Look it's that gross shit you like/how can you even eat that/Nasty/for some reason our son is obsessed with that stuff no idea how he even stomachs it he must be an alien" It's not fun. They are also not joking. They look at me with genuine disgust all over their faces and most of the time I have to buy it myself but my dad will sometimes buy it for me because while he does join in on calling it disgusting he doesn't think it's his buisness what I eat. It's actually recently gotten worse and I feel anxious eating in front of them at all. Which has lead to more comments about me not eating with the family, it's annoying but I'll live. That's not the issue here.

Four days ago I did something that while I will admit it was unsanitary and gross, even in the context that I am the only one who eats this, I did not think was a crime. I had a fresh jar of Marmate that my dad ordered for me and when I was putting it on my toast I got some on the rim of the jar and licked it off before closing the lid so it wouldn't get all over the lid. (It was also extra umph concentrated which was funny). My mother flew off the handle at me and asked why I would do something like that because now no one else can use it and called me selfish. I kind of stopped for a second and admittedly got a little smart and responded with something to the affect of "Now no one can use the stuff that I have to use in secret becauss no one in this house can shut up about how disgusting I am for even considering eating it?" She hesitated but then doubled down and said I needed to be considerate of others in the house who might have wanted to use it. I am beyond lost here so I'm asking Tumblr.

Am I the asshole? Willing to admit I'm the asshole and apologize if I'm deemed in the wrong. But I was honestly under the impression that I would never have to worry about my family wanting this stuff.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[milgram-confessions]

I know the writing in Milgram has issues with ableism itself, it's by no means perfect, but as a system who struggled deeply with a persecutor who I felt ruined my life without my control, I have genuinely never resonated with a fictional system until I came across Mikoto. People in this fandom have got to be more mature when discussing Mikoto, and understand that his writing is not going to cater to everyone, or make sense to everyone (all systems are different after all). If you don't like it or don't agree, that's okay, but please don't be an asshole to the people who find genuine representation and comfort in him. Especially don't say anything if you are not a system yourself, this is not your conversation.

The fact that Yamanaka choose to depict Mikoto's character so viscerally violent and uncomfortable is one of my favorite parts. Because this disorder is not pretty, it's not fun, it's not trendy: it's incredibly scary to live with at first and it can genuinely destroy and end people's lives. I don't want to see it depicted in a romanticizable or pretty way that's easy to swallow. Because I know that's what people really want, because this fandom is so obsessed with shipping. Yes, it sucks that Mikoto is another "murderer with DID" trope, but his writing is more nuanced than just that. So please be respectful in the way you talk about his system, system yourself or not, because some aspects of his character are real things that real people have genuinely lived through. 👍

At the end of the day, he isn't real and you shouldn't treat him as if he is, but the systems out there reading your posts are real and we remember the way you speak about our disorder.

.

#milgram #milgram project #confessions #mikoto kayano #kayano mikoto

[abeautylives]

Times I Remember Well

(and Some That I Don’t)

Part 3

author’s note: Thank you for reading this ridiculous story. Now for the good stuff.

pairing: female!OCxjake

time frame: 2016-2018

word count: almost 7.8k this part

warnings: language, underage drinking (implied), mentions of sex and sexual situations, nudity, oral (m. and f. receiving), unprotected penetrative sex

You know how most people’s lives change pretty drastically when they move away for college?

What, were you expecting me to claim that I was different, special in some way?

I’m not.

If you’re wondering, Sam and I were fine. I guess he’d matured enough to keep speaking to me when he found out I’d almost fucked his brother. I was still immature enough to give him a classic three day long silent treatment over the whole Sam said he thought you were fucking that guy you dated thing.

I even made him agree to never bring me up to Jake again. Ever.

Anyway, my first semester of college kind of kicked my ass. I was smart enough, but I couldn’t decide on a major and it made the whole experience feel like a waste of time. I didn’t meet anyone worth much of my effort to get to know, and I spent a lot of nights alone in my dorm room. I barely even liked my roommate. Meanwhile, Sam was at home breezing through his last year of high school and preparing to actually go on tour.

Like a real tour. It was my worst nightmare. And I had to hear all about it when I came home for winter break. 

But he was excited, of course he was. And I was proud of him. And Josh, and Danny. I couldn’t bring myself to have positive feelings for Jake. After he’d rejected and embarrassed me (again), I’d run off to school determined to lose my v-card to literally anyone who’d never been to Frankenmuth or heard of their band. Fortunately for me, almost no one had heard of either.

So, I did. And Matthew Nowak had been a very cursory and lazy fuck, but he got the job done. I mean, he popped the cherry or whatever, he didn’t make me come, and I never gave him another opportunity to try.

I almost didn’t even go home for Christmas, my dad had been begging me to come see him, but I knew if I didn’t go home, I might never see my best friend again.

Was that a little dramatic? Sure, but the dates for tour were going to start around my birthday, before he even graduated, and he wouldn’t be home for the entire summer. There were talks of getting signed, to a fucking label. Releasing their music to the world. Jake’s dreams were coming true and he was stealing my best fucking friend from me.

He really was an asshole.

I went back to school in the spring a little sad, nostalgic for a time when things were easy and fun, and I always had a weekend smoke sesh in the Kiszka garage to look forward to. There was nothing for me to look forward to in Ann Arbor. Until I met Soph.

Sophie and I were paired up within the first few days of one of our classes, and thank God we were. We clicked instantly, she was almost like a female version of Sam with even better hair.

She got me out of my slump, out of my dorm room and out of my own head.

As we started hanging out more outside of class, we learned about each other’s lives at home, and she let me talk endlessly about Sam. About moving away from Traverse and finding the best friend I’d ever had, growing up with him, becoming an adult at his side.

I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but eventually I ran out of stories and didn’t feel the need to talk about him much anymore.

For a few months, we worked hard and partied harder, and I felt more and more like myself, or my new self, with her help. My new self must have been putting out certain vibes that attracted attention, because I wasn’t hurting for it. Not that I really had back home, but home had narrowed my view, the Kiszkas my whole world. Even when I did date boys, Sam was there to tell me he didn’t like them, then Josh was there shining brighter than the sun, blinding me to them.

Then Jake was there. Ruining me for everyone else, just by existing.

In Ann Arbor, Soph had the opposite effect. Every guy was cute, cute enough to talk to, flirt with, party with. A select few were hot enough to make out with, let them touch our bodies, we would touch theirs. Dance with them, let them pull us close, throw our arms around them and tell them to take us somewhere quieter. 

There was that one time, I’d gone back to this guy’s dorm and he’d put a playlist on shuffle. Ya know, so we wouldn’t be heard. And right before I put his dick in my mouth, fucking Highway Tune started playing. 

Instant no. I left him there with a hard-on and zero promises of returning.

But anyway, Soph and I had fun every weekend, studied every weeknight. By the end of the second semester, we’d decided on my major, and made sure we would share more classes in the fall.

When summer break rolled around, we spent the first half with her family in Grand Rapids and the second, reluctantly, with my mom. Home was weird without Sam, but he was off galavanting across the U.S. Communication between us had been sparse, though he did call me once every few weeks to fill me in, and let’s be honest, brag. I didn’t mind the bragging, much, but even with how well things were going at school, I’d have given anything to drop it all and be with him. 

Even if it meant tolerating Jake. 

Life goes on, time keeps on slipping, the wheel in the sky keeps on turning and all that. 

College was hard, but Soph and I really buttoned up in the fall. More studying, fewer boys, a little less fun, but Michigan gets cold fast and running wild all over campus didn’t hold the same appeal. We vowed to live it up in the spring, maybe settle down and get some boyfriends. Maybe not.

“Holy shit holy shit!”

We were in the library, Soph across the table from me with wide eyes, laptops, books and notes spread out between us.

“Shhh! What? What the fuck?” She leaned in conspiratorially and I turned my phone around to show her the screen. 

“They’re playing in Detroit. They’re coming home!”

“Will you be quiet? Who, Sam’s band?”

That made me laugh every time. I always called it Sam’s band, because he would’ve loved it and someone else I knew would have loathed it.

They hadn’t been home in forever, they were hardly even in the states, and when they’d played the Fillmore in the spring I’d been so bogged down with new classes and so much fucking homework, I couldn’t justify leaving campus let alone the city. 

But they were coming back, and I’d be on winter break. Sam had sent me their schedule, which I’d thrust into Soph’s hands.

“Aww, reunion! I wish I could go with you.” Her pouty face was unmatched, but she was going with her parents to visit family in Ohio for the holidays. For a moment, that realization made me panic. I wanted to go, needed to see my best friend, but to do it alone? Why did that make me nervous?

Maybe because I hadn’t seen him in two years. Maybe because I hadn’t seen him in more than two. I doubted I’d even get to spend much time with Sam, and I doubted further that I’d be able to get him away from the others.

Not that I wouldn’t want to hang out with Danny, or even Josh. But… well, you know.

I wondered if they were going home for the brief break between Detroit and Seattle, and I made a mental note to ask Sam. 

I’d insisted on buying my own ticket to the show, their third added at the Fox after the first two sold out, but Sam wouldn’t hear of it. He set me up with a ticket and access to see them backstage, and I tried not to let it get to my head. It's not like they were famous or anything.

Selling out multiple shows.

I FaceTime’d Sophie so she could help me decide what to wear - I hadn’t put this kind of pressure on an outfit since the night I kissed… yeah, you saw how that went.

We landed on skin tight faux leather pants, an extremely low-cut black and tan floral print top with a fitted bodice and wide, flowy sleeves, and chunky black boots. I planned to top it off with a vintage fur coat Sam and I had found thrifting a few years back. We’d always joked that it originally belonged to the old lady they named their band after. 

“Okayyyyy, so what about your underwear?” 

I stopped spinning in front of my phone, where I’d been showing Sophie the whole get up.

“What the fuck do you mean, my underwear? Who cares?”

“Babe, it’s a rock show! What if you meet a super hot guy with like, tattoos and a tongue ring that wants to rock your world?” I watched her eyebrows waggle as she stuck her own tongue out at me. 

“Yeah I don’t think that’s really their demographic.” 

But… an idea started to form. Sexy underwear would make me feel sexy. Who would be irritated to see me, looking and feeling sexy, arguably hotter now than I’d ever been? Who would be downright furious to watch me get a little flirty, a little provocative with another man? Men? His brothers?

Ohhh, Jake Kiszka was gonna kill me. And it was gonna be worth it. 

The ticket Sam held for me was in the front fucking row. Of the seats, behind the pit floor, but still. How embarrassing, what if I didn’t know any of the words? I didn’t really listen to their music, not since I was in high school, watching them practice or play at Fischer.

As you can imagine, I didn’t need to worry. Every, single, song was familiar. Songs that they’d written or started writing when Sam was barely fifteen. But the people around me knew them all, better than I did actually. 

That was… pretty cool.

I left my seat as the guys were blowing kisses and throwing flowers into the crowd, stopped in a bathroom to check myself out, and followed Sam’s directions to make it backstage. The guys made it there before me, I could hear their excited voices from the hall as a security guard led me to their green room. We slowed as we got closer, and I stopped the guard before we reached the door, composing myself, slipping my coat off, smoothing my hair and controlling my expression. 

You should've seen his face when I walked through the doorway, slow clapping and wearing my best deadpan. They all turned their heads in my direction, but his face was the one I sought out. 

His cheeks were still flushed from the stage (he honestly goes crazy up there) but he immediately turned so bright pink I hoped his head would explode. 

“YOU’RE HERE! Holy shit, you’re here!” Sam rushed at me and instantly my feet were off the ground, he swung me around and I couldn’t help the smile that stretched wide as I laughed with him. 

“You’re sweaty! Put me down, idiot!” He dropped me to my feet and grabbed a hand, lifted it above my head and spun me in a circle.

“Look at you, you look hot, T!” His laughter cracked loud and joyous and my heart soared. He didn’t mean anything by it, of course, but he was right and I knew it.

Danny approached me next, taller and even broader than I ever remembered him being, and wrapped me up in another sweaty hug. “Good to see you, did you get tinier?” We laughed and I slapped him away. Then Josh caught my eye, arms crossed over his bare chest under an open black vest and leaning against the vanity, grinning. 

I moved toward him and he met me in the middle, opened his arms and threw them around me. He didn’t make fun of me, or comment on the way I looked. Our cheeks were pressed together and he turned his face and dropped a kiss to mine. “We’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you guys too, more than you know.”

He let me go and his grin stretched into a blinding smile. “What’d you think of the show?”

“It was fucking awesome, I can’t believe you guys are like, legit rockstars! Seems like yesterday you were jamming in your garage.” Sam sidled up and threw a long arm over my shoulders.

“To be fair, we didn’t really stop jamming in the garage until last year, T.”

I knew that, I guess. But I’d missed it, and I’d missed the moment my best friend grew up. But this wasn’t the time to get weepy about that. I still had a mission to accomplish.

Turning out of Sam’s hold, I faced him. He no longer looked apoplectic, but his nostrils were flared and his arms were crossed, one hand running a finger across his chin below pursed lips. His focus was distinctly somewhere on the floor, but I walked toward him and watched his eyes connect with my boots and then travel, slowly, all the way up my body. 

Get a good look, asshole.

And he did, his gaze lingered for a fraction of a second on my hips, and then again on my chest before it finally met my face.

Say something stupid, I dare you.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” 

My own eyes rolled in my skull. “Good to see you too, Jacob. How have you been?”

His features twisted in confusion for just a moment before he smoothed them back out. Good.

“Fantastic, living the dream, ya know. How have you been, Tiny?”

“Oh, really good!” I crossed one arm, tucking it under my tits and pushing them up while I twirled a finger through a strand of my hair with the other hand. “I’m majoring in English and Writing and aced all of my finals this past semester. Just really living my best on-campus life. Work hard, play hard and all that.”

It was so satisfying, the way he’d accidentally looked at my chest and then failed to look back at my face until I was done speaking. I swear to you my pussy fluttered when he swallowed, hard, before responding. It was that satisfying. 

“That’s- ahem, that’s great. Glad to hear it. Thanks for coming by to say hi or whatever but we need to pack up our gear and head to the hotel.”

Nice try.

“Oh, cool! I’d love to come with you guys, I just miss you all so much.” His face started turning pink again before I looked over my shoulder. “Sammy! Can I come with and hang out at the hotel? Just for a little bit?” I whipped my head back, my hair swinging with it, to see his face before Sam even answered.

I wanted to see if steam came out of his ears.

“Fuck yeah! You can crash with me if you want!”

One corner of my mouth lifted and curled. “Perfect!”

I regret to inform you that no steam came out. But I think it was pretty close.

When I pulled in at the hotel, I texted Sam and he told me they were in the lobby so I flipped my visor down, checked my face and fluffed my hair. After a deep breath, I got out of the car and made my way inside. 

The hotel wasn’t anything too ritzy, and I figured despite it all, they weren’t that famous. Sam still looked and sounded like the best friend I’d grown up with, though there was something about him that had become more attractive. All of them actually exuded more… sex appeal? 

Ugh, musicians. 

My timing was pretty good, I entered the building in time to catch them getting in the elevator, Jake being the last left in the lobby. But we caught each other’s eye and instead of walking on, he backed up a step. The doors closed and the elevator rose without him. 

He stood there, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, and waited for me to reach him. When I did, he spoke before I could. 

“What are you doing here, T?”

I painted confusion on my face instead of the pure gratification I actually felt. “Visiting my friends? What are you-“

“Cut the bullshit. It’s unbecoming.”

Okay, that was a little wrinkle in my plan. I hadn’t even started shamelessly flirting with anyone yet and he was already cursing at me. I doubled down.

“I came to see them, Jake.” I pressed the button to call the elevator back down and crossed my arms.

“And what about me?”

“What about you?” Just as I glanced up, feigning more interest in the LED display of numbers as the elevator came down than this conversation, he stepped closer and gripped my arm. Pulled me closer.

It felt familiar.

“I’m not buying it. Come on.” The elevator dinged and the doors opened to an empty car, but he was already pulling me down a hall toward a stairwell door. It swung open as he shoved through it, yanked me through and pushed me ahead of him, and it slammed shut behind us.

The stairwell was silent, our breathing was amplified and bounced off the walls. His voice made me flinch.

“Third floor. Go.”

Four flights of stairs and two landings separated me from their room. That was fine, I could do it.

Except he stayed behind me the entire time and didn’t speak a word. By the time I pushed the door to the third floor open, my nerves were fried and I was still trying to discern his reasoning for taking the stairs. If he had yelled at me or pushed me to the wall and kissed me in the stairwell, it would’ve made more sense. Instead, he placed a hand low on my back and led me down a deserted hallway to room 307. I breathed a shaky sigh of relief, ready to abandon the plan completely and run to Sam, use him as a personal human shield for the rest of the night.

But he pulled a key card out of his pocket and slid it into the lock, and the heavy door opened to a dark, empty room. 

Jake stepped inside and flicked on a light, holding the door open for me. I didn’t move.

“Jake, what-“

“Get in here, we need to talk.”

It sounded like a terrible idea, I hadn’t come here to talk. I came to spend time with Sam and do enough harmless flirting with the guys to drive Jake crazy. 

“No. Where are the guys?”

He just stared at me for a tense few seconds before he sighed impatiently. “In Sam and Danny’s room.”

“And which room would that be, exactly? I’ll just go knock-“

“Please.”

I know, I know. Did he really have to go and ask nicely?

“Fine, you know what? You have five minutes then I’m the fuck out of here.” He had the nerve to give me a tight-lipped smile, lift his palm and wave me in as I started to pass him and head into the room. Then he let the door swing shut.

We were alone.

The room was pretty standard, two queen-size beds, a table and two chairs. Not exactly rockstar shit. I tossed my coat onto the closest bed.

“You want a drink?”

I dropped into a chair, crossed my legs and folded my hands over my knee. “No, I don’t. What did you need to talk to me about? You have four minutes.”

He pulled a White Claw out of the mini fridge, popped the tab and sat at the end of the bed closest to me. After a swig from the can, he leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. 

“Three minutes.”

“Jesus, give it a rest, T.” He pinned me with a glare and my eyes widened. “Don’t. Don’t act all affronted because you’re not getting your way, I’m sick of it.” 

“I don’t know what you mean, I-“

“Stop! Tell me why you’re really here.”

“To see Sam! I told you-“

He stood from the bed, leaned across me and slammed the can onto the table. I jumped in my seat, but then he bent down and gripped the arms of the chair on either side of me. Right in my face, he ripped me to shreds.

“I’m tired of this, T. Since day one, everything has always had to be all about you, your feelings, your stupid ideas, your fucking games.”

That was ridiculous and it straightened my spine, I sat up taller and put us nose to nose, but he didn’t stop.

“How many times have you come between us and Sam? Pitted us against each other? Run away when you didn’t get your way, with one of us or all of us?”

With a huff, he pushed himself away from me but now I was ready for a fight. Launching from the chair, my body followed his. “And what about you, Jake?  You spent years fucking with me, leading me on, just to humiliate me over and over again!”

“Is that really what you think?!” We were squared up now, hands flailing as we yelled in each other's faces. “I didn’t do shit, and you spent years avoiding me, making me feel awkward and unwelcome in my own house because God forbid I ever be in the presence of such a self-entitled, delicate fucking princess!”

“Oh, you fucking prick. Fuck you-“

“So eloquent, that’s really lovely Tiny.”

You already know that he said that on purpose.

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” I was fuming, the steam was probably coming out of my ears, and that pissed me off further. Everything about this was infuriating, my night completely off-railed, my time with my friends ruined. I was done.

I threw my hands up and then put them on his shoulders, with all intention to shove him out of my way and walk out of the room with some part of my dignity intact, for once.

But that’s not exactly what happened.

Because once I touched him, the tension reached a breaking point. And boy did it break.

Before I could push him away, his arms were around me, his hands spread across my back, and he pulled me in. 

Yep, he was kissing me. 

Our mouths slammed together and all the anger, all the fury, combusted between them.

My own hands betrayed me and shot from a grip on his shoulders to a grip in the hair at the back of his head, still slightly damp from sweat or a shower at the venue, I had no idea. And I didn’t care.

He ravaged my lips until they felt bruised, opened them with his and forced our tongues to battle for dominance, sucked the air from my lungs until I couldn’t breathe. I pulled away to drag some back in but he hardly gave me the chance, tugging me back in to kiss my lips, bite my jaw, murmuring between the attacks. 

“Why are you really here…”

His hands slid up my back and sunk into my hair, pulled my head to the side so he could continue his attack on my neck, my throat.

“Say it, the truth.”

My brain was in shut down, I forgot what words were and how to make them. His teeth reminded me, scraping along my skin.

“You. For you.”

His lips closed over mine again and he was moving me, two steps backward and we turned, the back of my knees hit the bed where he’d been sitting. Our mouths broke apart, our hands fell away. The sound of our breathing, fast and uneven, thundered between us.

“I’m not gonna stop this time, T.”

My heart stumbled over its next few beats.

“I don’t want you to.”

We fell back into silence as he reached forward and slid his hands up underneath my shirt, rough fingertips pushing the fabric up over my ribs, my chest, I lifted my arms and let him pull it over my head and shook my hair out as he let it drop to the floor. 

There was just enough light coming from the only one he’d flicked on, and the moonlight spilling through the uncovered window, that I saw his nostrils flare. His eyes trailed over my lace and silk covered chest before meeting mine.

“You’re so beautiful,” My breath caught, I held it. “I’ve never told you how beautiful you are.”

I couldn’t speak, emotion squeezing my throat, the words I’d always wanted to hear from him tightening every muscle in my body. So instead, I mirrored his actions and tucked my fingers under the hem of his t-shirt. Soft, heated skin met my touch and I flattened my palms over his hips, up over his stomach and I swear he trembled. Seriously! When they made it to his chest, I could feel the hard, steady beat of his heart, rapid beneath my hand. 

Maybe he knew I could feel it, maybe not, but he leaned in and pulled a soft, sweet kiss from my lips before he took over and tugged the shirt over his head. 

“Jake…” His chest and stomach were lightly toned and completely flawless, a glimpse of which I’d gotten when he was onstage, shirtless under an open jacket. I wanted to tell him just how perfect I thought he was, he’d always been, but the words wouldn’t come. So I bent my knees and dropped to the bed, the barely there happy trail leading up from the low waist of his pants now directly in front of my face.

I leaned forward and kissed it. A strangled noise came from above me, I smiled against his skin. Then his hand was in my hair and he pulled, forcing my face up. He smirked.

“You ever done this before?”

Asshole.

Blindly I reached for and found the button of his jeans, popped it open and worked his zipper down slowly. 

“Please don’t piss me off, or I won’t be nice.”

A chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Just making sure.”

His grip in my hair kept my chin tilted up, eyes locked with his. I peeled the denim over his hips and pulled it down to his knees. Heat rolled off his body in waves, I was dying to look at it, take it all in but there was fire in his stare and I was burning. My fingertips mapped out what I couldn’t see, found the subtle V that led down into his briefs and traced it before I tucked them under the elastic and rolled it down his legs. 

Jake Kiszka’s cock bobbed in the air between his hips and my face. Crazy, I know. I wrapped shaky fingers around him, felt how thick and hard he was before I’d even seen it, tried to picture what I could remember from his dark bedroom.

“Fuck, T.” I tightened my grip on him, just a little, stroked him once. His eyes slid shut.  “I can’t believe you’re here.” I stroked him again and his grasp on my hair loosened, my chin dropped and there it was. As perfect as the rest of him, his dick was big, the head flushed pink. My mouth watered.

For real.

In that moment, I wondered quickly what he liked, how fast, how slow, how hard? My tongue slid out and tasted him, just the very tip, and he snatched my hair up again. The sting in my scalp made my eyes water and I opened my lips and took him in, wrapped them around him and swirled my tongue over his skin. He whimpered.

I could be remembering that wrong, but I swear he did.

He wanted to take control, I could feel it in the smallest amount of pressure from his knuckles on my scalp, but I wanted to be stubborn. I was tired of the control he seemed to have over every one of our interactions. I released him with a soft pop and his eyes shot open. 

“C’monnn,” he groaned. I took my hand off of his dick and pushed him back, he almost stumbled, his legs still trapped in his half-removed jeans. I stood from the bed, spun us around and reversed our positions, then pushed him by the shoulders to sit.

“Patience, Jake, patience.” I flicked the front clasp of my bra open and felt the unrestrained relief as my tits spilled out, then that flutter of satisfaction as his eyes went wide right before going soft and dreamy. What can I say, Jake’s a breast man. “Aht.” He’d reached for them, lifted his hands like he just couldn’t wait to feel them again, but they paused in midair. “I said patience.”

He huffed out a sigh and dropped them, so I continued. Made a little show out of unzipping my boots, sliding them off and peeling the skin-tight material of my pants down my legs. His fingers flexed against his thighs the entire time, clenching into fists and releasing over and over. I waited until I was left in just the lacy thong to instruct him to remove his pants. 

His boots were kicked off and denim tossed away in an instant.

And there we were again. Jake, fully bared to me while we stared at each other, my tits out and pussy covered. But this wasn’t going to end the way it did two years ago. 

Not if I had anything to say about it.

I dropped to my knees and his legs spread, making room for me to kneel between them. His cock jumped when I touched him, just my fingertips, up his shins and over his kneecaps before I placed my palms flat on his thighs. When I peeked up at him through my lashes, he was staring hard, jaw clenched and nostrils flared again. So I continued to trace my fingers over his skin, further up his thighs, over his hips, up and down his happy trail. 

Through gritted teeth, “Baby, please.”

Baby? I was throbbing, slick between my thighs already but that hit me like lightning.

I wrapped a fist around him at the base and took him all the way to the back of my throat.

I had to. 

A string of rough curses fell from his lips and a hand tangled in my hair, but I kept my composure, sucking him in and stroking with my fist, letting him sink as deep as I could without choking. His skin was hot velvet on my tongue, I could taste his desire, his need, and I couldn’t help the moan that rippled up my throat around his cock.

“Jesus fuck.” His hips jerked, I gagged around him, he fisted the hair at the back of my head and yanked me off of him. “Get up here.”

Remember how I wanted to maintain the control here? Yeah, I failed. 

He used his grip on my head to bring my lips to his, his tongue sweeping in to dance with mine immediately, his hands moving down my body to pull me up and into his lap. I threw my arms around him and rocked into it instantly, his roving hands landing on my ass and pulling me in, his dick rock hard and slick with my spit grinding against my silk-covered pussy.

Just like that, I lost control of my insolent mouth too.

The kiss broke and I rested my forehead on his, my eyes trained on what was happening between our hips. “God… I-“ The head of his cock caught on my clit, I gasped at the feeling. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Embarrassing, I know. But then… ohh then.

His hands skimmed up my ribs until they were cupping my breasts, thumbs grazing over my nipples. 

“I’ve wanted you longer, T. Forever.”

Goosebumps. Literal goosebumps ran up my arms, I shivered, my nipples tightened, and he pulled one into his mouth. He sucked and lapped at it, thumb still moving over the other, and without hesitation he sunk his teeth in. 

“Fuck yes, yes yes…”

His tongue circled it again and he released it, pressed a hot and fast kiss to my mouth. 

“You still like that, huh?” He chuckled as he opened his lips over the other side. The silk between my legs was soaked, I could feel how easily I was sliding over his cock, and I was getting impatient despite the way I’d reprimanded him hardly ten minutes ago. 

“Jake, please…”

He popped off of my nipple and pulled another kiss from my lips, then leaned back and let one corner of his mouth curl up, self-satisfied and cocky.

Still an asshole. 

“Please what, baby? Tell me.”

My eyes rolled, even as he tucked his face into the crook of my neck, nipped and licked me there.

“I want you inside, please fuck me.” Self-control, out the window.

“Mmm,” he hummed into my skin, “No.”

Before I could be properly offended, and believe me, I was, he gripped my thighs and hauled me up, then deposited me onto the mattress. Well, tossed me, really. I bounced once, arms and legs flailing, hair falling in my face. By the time I pushed it away and propped myself up on my elbows, he was standing at the foot of the bed, dick in his fist. I opened my mouth to speak, to yell at him or beg him to stick it in, I don’t know, but he was stroking himself, and he moaned. My mouth snapped shut.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” I scoffed, offended, pissed even. “Yet.” He let himself go and placed his hands on the mattress, then climbed onto the edge of the bed and started crawling towards me.

It was so fucking hot. His cheeks were flushed, his hair wild from my hands, his eyes dark. I backed away, moving up the bed until my shoulders met the headboard. He didn’t stop coming, and I didn’t want him to. Instinctively, my knees bent and my legs fell open, inviting him in. But he didn’t settle there, when his hands reached me, he grabbed me by the calf and threw my leg over his shoulder on his way down. 

His mouth opened over damp silk and I cried out, his name or God’s, I’m not sure, but his lips and tongue were moving against me and I may have blacked out. I came to when one of his hands skimmed up my inner thigh, and he broke away long enough to slip two fingers under the material and tug it aside. 

Jake Kiszka’s tongue was on my actual, bare pussy. 

My shoulders sagged against the headboard as I reached for him, burying my fingers in his already tangled and unruly hair, our eyes met and he dragged his tongue over me again and again.

“Shit, you were right, this is better,” I panted. He smiled against my cunt and I felt it. I smiled too.

My cheeks hurt I was smiling so hard, until he laser-focused his attention to my clit. His lips wrapped around it and he sucked it past them, my jaw dropped. 

“Oh, oh my God, oh my God!” He was good at this. Too good. The beginnings of an orgasm were already swirling, tightening in my belly, making my toes tingle. The tip of his tongue moving against me until he opened his mouth over me again, and I felt it plunge inside me. The sounds I was making were unholy but I had no shame, I couldn’t feel anything other than need. I needed to scream, I needed to come, I needed him. 

He brought a hand up around my thigh and ran his thumb over my folds, licking himself as he lapped at me, then swirled it over my clit as his tongue fucked me. Before I could even moan, two fingers from his other hand replaced his tongue inside me.

“Jake!”

His head tilted and he pressed his lips against my thigh, kissed it and grinned. “Yes?” Fingers everywhere, filling me and fucking me, circling the most sensitive part of me - I forgot what I wanted to say, if I had even wanted to. Instead I pulled his mouth back, he slid his thumb away and flicked his tongue against me. 

“Yessss, yes just like that, please!” I let my eyes close and stars were already dancing behind my lids, I was close, so close, and I told him so. I moaned it and his fingers plunged deep and curled. I screamed it and he sucked my clit back into his mouth. 

I came hard, nails dug into his scalp, bucking my hips against his face, screaming his name. 

It was unreal. College guys had nothing, fucking nothing, on him.

Before my muscles had even relaxed, he lifted his head from between my thighs and moved up my body, his fingers still pumping slowly inside me as he kissed my hip, my stomach, my breast on his way up to my mouth. He tasted like me when my tongue touched his, and he eased his fingers from my body. 

“Absolutely fucking stunning, breathtaking.”

His breath was taken? I still couldn’t breathe, my chest continued to heave as he left the bed, taking my panties down my legs with him, and I could barely lift my head to see what he was doing. My eyes closed and I felt the mattress dip with his weight as he returned and settled on his heels between my legs, still splayed open. I cracked an eyelid and found him watching me, wrapped condom held between his fingers. 

Under his gaze, I shifted down until my head rested on the pillows, spreading my legs wider, pussy presented to him on a silver fucking platter.

This was happening. There was absolutely no way this was not happening. Not this time.

“Now, Jake.” Unrecognizable, my voice had a distinct sex kitten-like quality that I loved as soon as it hit my ears. He must have loved it too, because his dick twitched and he gripped it. I reached up and snatched the condom from his fingers, tore it open and started rolling it on while his eyes bugged out and his jaw fell slack.

“Jesus, not your first time, huh?” My hand replaced his around him and I stroked, he leaned over me and I guided the head to my center, moved it through the slick pool of arousal there. He paused, poised to enter me, and met my eyes.

“I’m pretty much out of firsts, Jake.”

His eyes closed, his hips rocked forward, and he pushed just past my opening, the tip not even fully inside me.

I tilted my own hips up, he slipped a fraction of an inch deeper. I whispered, and it was sexy, and seductive. “It could’ve been you.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, opened his eyes and we watched each other’s faces as he sunk deeper, slowly, to the hilt. “It should’ve been me.”

Stunned, speechless, we stayed like that. Unmoving, bodies connected, eyes locked. He broke first, dropping his lips to mine and rocking into me softly. A sound I’d never heard before, quieter than a moan, crept up his throat, trapped behind his lips as they caressed mine. My legs lifted, cradling him between my thighs and wrapping around him. 

It was gentle, sweet. The exact opposite of how I knew it would’ve been, if I’d let him be my first, thinking he wasn’t. 

I felt my cheeks warm, my eyes pool with tears. I blinked them away. This was everything I’d wanted and more. I knew I’d been an idiot to think otherwise. Especially when he pulled back and delivered a quick, deep thrust and there was no pain. Only pleasure bloomed inside me, hot and volatile. 

“Again, more…”

An excellent listener, he repeated it. Again, again, and I met each thrust with my own. Our kiss turned frantic, sloppy, lips and tongues clashing and pushing, pulling and taking. The temperature in the room was rising with the heat of our skin, our bodies slipping against each other. He lifted his chest from mine, hands braced on the pillows on either side of my head, and the conditioned air on our damp skin made us both groan in ecstasy.

I damn near came again, almost commented on it but he dropped back down and shoved an arm between me and the mattress, rolled us both. We laughed as we landed, his hair strewn across the pillow and mine falling in his face. My laughter stuck in my throat when he grabbed onto my thighs and pulled, tucking my knees against his hips and forcing me to sit. I propped myself up with my hands on his chest and fell back into the rhythm, my hips rolling. 

“Goddamn, you feel so good, look so good riding me.”

My head fell back as his words rippled through me, his fingertips digging into me, his hands moving my body over his. He brought one to my chest, squeezed me roughly, rolled my nipple with his fingers, pinched it. Hard.

“Yes!” He did the same to the other, my pussy clenched around him. 

“You like when it hurts a little, don’t you?”

“I- I don’t know, I guess so- ohhh!” He wrapped a hand around each tit and sunk his fingertips into my flesh, then kneaded them both, ran the pads of his thumbs over the peaks. 

“Fuck, that’s so hot. You’re fucking perfect.”

Yeah, I lost my mind a little bit. My hips bucked wildly in his lap. Perfect? Me? My nails pressed into his skin, I dragged them down his chest, reveling in the sharp hiss sucked between his teeth, the way his own hips lifted from the bed and he fucked into me. Sharp, fast thrusts hitting me so deep I was screaming his name. He sat up and pulled my face to his, kissed me hard, bit down on my bottom lip, and then tipped me backwards.

My head was nearly hanging off the end of the bed, but really, who cares? My ankles locked behind his back and he was slamming his hips into the back of my thighs.

Fuck, was I gonna come? He had to be close. I lifted my head, now very much hanging off the bed, to ask him.

Beep. Click.

His hips stuttered and paused, we both whipped our heads to the door, which was fucking opening. 

Josh appeared, his foot crossed the threshold and he was looking down at his phone. 

“GET OUT!!” We yelled in unison. Josh’s head popped up, his eyes went huge, and then he laughed. 

“Shit, sorry guys.” He started backing out into the hall, the door creaking closed. “About time,” We heard him chuckling to himself and the door clicked behind him.

Jake turned his face back to me and seemed to realize for the first time that I was barely on the mattress. An arm wrapped around my back and he shifted us until I could look him in the eyes.

“What the fuck…” I whispered up at him.

His smile was subtle and affectionate before it stretched to a full grin, and he huffed a laugh.

“There was no fucking way I was stopping.”

I matched his grin and lifted to pull a kiss from his lips. “Good.”

He tucked his face into my neck and began the roll of his body into mine again. I let my hands roam across his back as he kissed and nipped my skin and his thrusts picked up speed. The orgasm that had been teasing me before we were interrupted built again quickly, and Jake was panting in my ear. 

But then… then. A whisper. Low and deep, but a whisper nonetheless. 

My name, my real name, hit my ear and I gasped, right on the edge.

“Come for me. Please come for me.”

How could I say no?

It broke, crashed, consumed me. His name on my lips as I tightened, writhed, and shook for him. 

He didn’t stop, didn’t slow, he chased after me and followed into the flames. My name burned into my flesh by his kisses, a guttural groan as he came inside me. 

Easily the best orgasm I’d ever had. Easily.

Because he’s just a man, albeit an incredibly hot, multiple-orgasm-inducing man, he collapsed on top of me. I let him. I ran my hands over his sweat-dampened hair and the soft skin of his back and we both caught our breath. Then he started giggling. 

I pinched his ass. “What’s so funny, Kiszka?”

His head popped up and he propped himself on an elbow, a wide grin splitting his face in half, gorgeous. “I can’t believe we waited so long to do that, that might’ve been the best sex I’ve ever had.”

We both laughed as I slapped his chest. “Might be?!”

“Okay okay, you’re right.” He looked at me dreamily, his eyes bouncing around my face. “It was the best.”

Because I’m a woman, albeit a mind-blowing sex goddess, I started overthinking. I couldn’t help it! You should’ve seen the way he was looking at me. 

“Jake…” He lifted his eyebrows, I lifted a hand to his face, tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “What does this mean?”

Those eyebrows knitted together, a quick moment to think that over. Then he kissed me, soft and slow. 

“I don’t know what it means. But I do know this hotel has free breakfast downstairs, so be up and ready by nine.” His smile stretched again, and I couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Oooh, do you think they have French toast? That’s Sam’s favorite.”

He attacked me, tickled me until I had tears in my eyes, kissed me until I was breathless, and fell asleep with his arms around me.

The truth is, I don’t remember the exact moment I fell utterly, completely in love with Jake Kiszka. Maybe you should ask him. 

#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf smut #jake kiszka #jake gvf #greta van fleet fanfiction #jake kiszka fan fiction #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut

[just-a-random-dead-thing]

~Lost and found~ (Larissa Weems x student!reader)

The reader is 19 in this fic!!! The show makes it clear they have students well above the age of consent.

Sorry for the longer than expected wait! Mocks are a bitch and a half! The reader is a snarky little shit in this chapter btw- The chapters will be getting slightly longer as I get more comfortable with the story but please let me know if you would prefer shorter chapters.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 (1.2k words)

Thank you for all your kind words about the last chapter <3 I hope you continue to enjoy my shitty angst!!!

Lastly thank you once again to @thefangedman for the editing to make the story make any semblance of sense. You should check out their Tiffany Valentine fic! It's amazing!!!

Static takes over my senses. I slowly come round from my near death experience at the hands of my own Headmistress - ‘my duty is to protect all the students within these walls’ my ass. The glaring lights start to bother my shut eyes, begging me to open them and rejoin the living world. I'll give it 5 more minutes. I haven't had a nap like this in years.

Just as I'm getting comfortable, I hear the tapping of heels on a wooden floor, pacing back and forth. From what I can piece together, Weems accidentally impeded my ability to breathe; I passed out and she has dragged me to her office because she's too embarrassed to tell the nursing staff what happened. Hmm... I should have some fun with her. Fake amnesia seems like it'll do the trick. I mentally smirk, thinking over the horrified reaction I'll get to see on her face.

I flutter open my eyes to play into the act of just having awoken. I stare at the ceiling, hearing her rush towards me. "Mx/Mr/Miss L/N, how are you feeling? It appears you... umm, passed out in the corridor."

I turn to face her, sitting up on the leather sofa I'm lying on. I rub my forehead, slightly obscuring my eye as a confused expression crosses my features.

"...I'm sorry but who is Mx/Mr/Miss L/N, and who are you?" Her face, like I thought, is priceless - she even backs away slightly.

Her voice quivers as she talks, an unfamiliar tone in the usually confident woman.

"S-shit...no no no. This can't be happening, I d-didn't. God, what am I going to do-" with this, she grips my face in her hand, the other removing my own from my forehead, grasping it gently as our eyes meeting in perfect alignment. The only difference is her eyes are glazed over with tears that will fall any second, "I am so sorry, Y/N..."

God, this was meant to be fun, but it's just depressing.

I swear, she has an ability to suck all the joy out of anything I do. I roll my eyes at her, but in reality a small part of me feels regret. Regret over my actions, regret over leaving her in this state, but alas, I repress this thought and lean into the anger. I rip my hand out of hers and shove her away from me.

"You're so annoying! I can't even prank you after you nearly murder me without you sucking the joy out of it. Also- thanks for being too scared to take me to see the nursing staff, or even an actual fucking doctor incase God forbid you got into trouble. I could have gotten actual brain damage-"

I am interrupted mid-rant when she embraces me, her face buried in my neck, now fully sobbing. Fuck. Why do I always have to be such a blunt asshole? I need Noah to translate my words into nice ‘feeling protecting’ ones, he's good at all the dumb emotional stuff. Normally I am at least okay at faking, and I can get by, but everything just feels so foggy. No matter how hard I try, I can't concentrate on finding the right words.

I feel awkward as her hot tears sear into my skin like a mark of shame. I bring my hand to her head, undoing her usual pristine hairstyle. I run my hand over her scalp and the nape of her neck, gently scratching her skin. She calms down slowly, relaxing more into me more. My hand slows with her tears, until both cease and we remain there, unmoving for what feels like eternity. Neither one of us knows how to proceed, not wanting to ruin our brief moment of peace and unspoken understanding of what the other needs.

It has to end eventually however, and I am the one to do so, saying words I never thought I'd utter to this woman in my life. Before I can gather what to say three simple words cross my mind, "...I am sorry."

No. I will never apologise to this woman.

Instead I simply remove all venom from my being. I render myself completely vulnerable to her, a spider without its fangs, completely defenceless. "I don't think before I speak. As you know I'm not exactly great at the whole communication thing. So understand, I did not mean to hurt you. I just struggle when taking others emotions into account and instead I chose to be selfish by lashing out at you, it was immature of me."

The air felt thick as I tried to regain my lost stoicism. I feel shame and pity for both of us. I pry her away from my body as I stand, desperately needing to leave, but my legs buckle beneath my weight as everything goes blurry - fuck. I must have hit my head harder than I thought.

Before my body can meet the welcoming ground, I am snatched by a set of strong arms. She turns me to face her once more, before gently setting me on the settee. She turns away from me walking towards her desk as she speaks, her voice still not quite back to it's typical happy/mildly aggressive cadence.

"I had the nurses come to see you here, because I know you don't like the nursing wing of the academy. They said you'd have a mild concussion from hitting your head, and told me to observe you, which is why I didn't put you in your dorm. I know you think of me as being too proud to admit when I am wrong, but I want you to know I will never put my pride before the health of you, or anyone else in this academy."

God, what is wrong with Weems, I think I broke her. She's being too emotional - in the sad way, normally she's just angry. I swear, she speaks exclusively in passive aggressive niceness. I lift my head to properly meet her eyes.

She has taken her seat pride of place behind her desk, having almost the same power behind it as when a queen takes her throne. I begin to verbalise my thoughts.

"Are you on your period? Or are you too old for that... when does menopause start? Oh wait, could it be perimenopause? Oh god, are you pregnant? Can you still even get pregnant?" I become horrified as the last thought even crossed my mind, that poor child.

I notice Weem's equally horrified expression contorting her features, "Mx/Mr/Miss L/N just how old do you think I am exactly? I also don't appreciate the invasive line of questioning, but for your information, no, I am not pregnant."

I shutter slightly feeling her peircing gaze wait for me to answer her. "I want to say, 54...?" Oh God, she looks like she's about to slap me. "54! I beg your pardon, Mx/Mr/Miss L/N, I am 44, and I do not appreciate you aging me a decade! I should give you an extra detention for this alone."

I look at her, wondering if she has been seriously affected by my words, merely her vanity showing as per usual, or if this is her failed attempt trying to be more humorous while scolding me. I run my hand through my hair and let it fall over my eyes.

"I don't give a shit how old you are! You still cried like a baby either way, get over yourself, you're not 2. So what? You nearly murdered someone, we've all been there. You aren't special, so don't expect sympathy from me!"

Weems stands once and strides towards me. I am not interested in her lectures about manners and etiquette, so I leave quickly through the nearest set of doors and out into the corridor, taking a sharp right into the closest room to me.

Grabbing the chair beside me, I barricade the door, allowing myself to slide down it and contemplate all that's happened thus far, while also figuring out an excuse. I look around the room, only now realising I've locked myself within Weems' bedroom.

"Shit."

================tags================

@the-bagel24, @suckerforcate

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #student x professor #wenclair #oc #morticia x gomez #enid sinclair #wednesday addams #marilyn thornhill #mortica addams #gomez addams

[use-your-telescope]

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 3: I'm Still Not Sure What I Stand For

Summary: Theo makes a decision. The Avengers meet a prospective new member.

Author's Notes: Hey look, it's the chapter that has the first snippet I posted back in like, February! This song is split between two chapters, otherwise it would be a 10k chapter... next chapter (again, already written!) will likely come on Saturday, 10/28.

If you enjoy, please reblog!! I'm a lil' blog (less than 100 followers, haha) and reblogs really help me out <3

Content Warnings: None!

Word Count: 3,957

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

Song: Some Nights - fun.

Some nights, I stay up cashing in my bad luck Some nights, I call it a draw Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh, Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for, oh What do I stand for? What do I stand for? Most nights, I don't know anymore

If there was anything Theo could count on, it was that her cousin Max would inevitably disapprove of almost all of Theo’s life choices.

“Are you insane ?” The tenor of her cousin’s voice blared through the speaker, furious about the news she shared. “Seriously Leenie, you know you’re insane, right?”

“Sometimes, that’s all I have to give me comfort.” Theo drawled, cradling her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she packed her apartment up. “Max, don’t you get it? They’re alive - this is our chance!”

“No, no, no –” he retorted, “things are perfectly fine right now! There is no reason for us to go digging up the skeletons we buried -”

“Why are you so upset about this?” She said, rolling her eyes. “You literally have nothing to lose - if this works, we get our lives back. If this doesn’t work, we will stay here and nothing changes!”

“I have nothing–” A strangled groan came from the other side of the phone. “You are impossible, Leenie! What are the others going to think? What’s Mémère going to think? You’re putting all of us at risk–”

“Mémère has been pestering me to help with the shadow creature problem anyways,” Theo interrupted, “and might I remind you that between the two of us, I’m the one who has the authority to make this sort of decision.”

“I can’t – I can’t believe you,” Max sputtered; Theo could picture him walking around his house, flailing his arms in exasperation as she refused to back down on her plan. “After everything we sacrificed to get here, you’re going to risk ruining it for them?” 

“They’re my family, you asshole,” Theo snapped, “and until two nights ago, I thought they were dead. I thought I would never see them again, and I would never see my home again, but now there’s a possibility I can have my life back! So yes, I am willing to risk everything!” Staring at the half-filled boxes around her, Theo sighed; a pang of nostalgia surged through her chest at the thought of seeing the constellations that filled her childhood in something other than her dreams. “Max, they can put an end to all of this - don’t you want to go home?”

For years, Theo had dreams where she experienced the world through her sister’s perspective, but until she found out her sister was alive Theo assumed that was all they were: dreams. Her mind playing tricks on her, making her feel connected to people who hadn’t walked the earth in a long time. It wasn’t hard to rationalize - lots of people dreamt about loved ones after they passed. 

However, if it was true - if they were really alive… Maybe they weren’t just dreams. Maybe she was still connected with them and seeing what they saw. Maybe her sister was staring at the skies like they used to, remembering the tales she told Theo when they’d sneak out late at night to escape the times when it all felt like too much.

Even if Theo had seen the world through Rae’s eyes, she wondered what Rae looked like after all the time that had passed. Was she still as lean as Theo remembered, with sharp cheeks and piercing amethyst eyes that saw through everything? Was her nose still hooked ever-so-slightly? 

A shaky exhale came through the other end of the phone.

“This is our home now, Leens -” Max softened his tone, “I know you miss them, but even if it’s true that they are alive, how do you know they aren’t choosing to stay there? How do you know they would even want to help? Or that it would work?”

“Max, there’s no reason to believe they wouldn’t try to find me again - they’re my family ,” Theo protested, pinching the bridge of her nose with irritation at Max’s very blatant disapproval of her decision. “Look, I get it - after all this time it’s scary to think about the possibility that we gave up hope when they were still alive and we resigned ourselves to being refugees. But wouldn’t you rather know for sure than sit here wondering what if ?”

Theo continued haphazardly tossing items into boxes - she had to have everything ready for moving into the tower. Movers would be coming in a week, and she would have to say farewell to the brownstone she’d called home for so long.

The thought of leaving her little borough was tough to swallow - what would she do when she couldn’t stop into the bodega on her way home from work and tease Carlos about the girl who kept coming in to buy stuff just to talk to him? There was no way the Avengers ever went to bodegas when they needed something, much less talked to normal people. It seemed like they were locked up in their tower whenever they weren’t making appearances or going on flashy missions. They probably had cleaning staff and a chef that they interacted with, but beyond the staff it was difficult to imagine the Avengers living normal lives and running their own errands.

God, if Tony Stark was as obnoxious and boisterous as he seemed, being locked in a tower with him would absolutely result in Theo committing murder… 

Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to this. 

But if it meant she could be reunited with her family, if they could finally go home and rebuild… Maybe she could hold off on murdering the Avengers’ sugar daddy.

“I can’t stop you from doing this, can I?” 

Max’s voice snapped Theo back to the present.

“No, you can’t.” Theo shook her head, adjusting how she cradled the phone so she could tape a box closed. “I gave SHIELD my terms today and they accepted. Whether you like it or not, I’m going. You’re second in command while I’m gone - you know that, right?” 

“Fucking insane,” Max muttered, “This is fucking insane.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first thirty times.” Theo replied, rolling her eyes yet again.

“Fine, fine! I will try to keep Mémère in line and make sure shit doesn’t implode,” Max relented, “You have to tell the council though - I do not condone this whatsoever.”

Fuck, Theo forgot about the council.

“Chill out - I’m sure Mémère already told them.” 

Well, she was assuming, but they’d find out one way or another. After all, there was going to be a press conference to announce her new role upon completion of SHIELD’s onboarding process, so it wasn’t like it was going to be a secret.

Max’s frustration meant the conversation didn’t last much longer; then again, it wasn’t like there was much else for the two to discuss. If anything, she was a bit relieved to be done talking to him, even if he was family.

The moment Max was no longer on the phone, Theo let out an exhausted sigh.

Maybe Max was right - maybe she was getting caught up in this for nothing. Maybe she wouldn’t get to them in time. Maybe it was actually a lie after all. Maybe this would re-open old wounds. Maybe she would be killed before finding anything. Maybe…

Wings flapping brought Theo’s attention to her open window. A pair of black, beady eyes stared at her, iridescent feathers shimmering in the light from Theo’s apartment.

Not a crow - too big to be a crow. The beak wasn’t like a crow’s, and the feathers around it were far more pronounced. 

Definitely a raven.

Ravens weren’t common in urban areas, and seeing one on its own? 

Well, if that wasn’t a sign, she didn’t know what was. 

This is it, boys, this is warWhat are we waiting for?Why don't we break the rules already?I was never one to believe the hypeSave that for the black and whiteTry twice as hard, and I'm half as likedBut here they come again to jack my style

“Dr. Theolene Amaris,” Nick Fury’s voice rang out in the meeting room as a picture of a lithe woman appeared on screen. “ - also known as the Silver Shadow, the Celestial Phantom, and the Cursed Moon.”

It was only a few hours earlier that everyone was notified of the mandatory briefing, which was described as “urgent.” 

Moments before, Loki found himself pondering the nature of the briefing while everyone packed into a bright conference room. In front of each Avenger, a manila file folder sat prepared for them with information related to the subject in question.The faces of his team members shifted as they developed their first impressions on the subject of their briefing, her likeness blown up on the screen at the front of the room. 

Despite exceeding the capacity of the space, Loki managed to secure his usual seat in the back, conveniently located near the door for an easy escape. It was a habit that lingered from his earlier days in the tower, but having an easy escape from what were normally tedious meetings was still a benefit that Loki took advantage of more often than not. Even better, there was an empty seat next to him, lessening the otherwise inevitable sense of claustrophobia that would have eventually reared its ugly head.

She really didn’t look like much. The only noteworthy feature in her appearance was the thick mane of silver hair that tumbled down her back, stopping just above her waist. Otherwise, she appeared to be like any other Midgardian: clad in all-black, a beanie atop her head with black sunglasses obscuring her features as she walked down the street. If Loki passed her in real life, there was no way he’d offer her a second glance, or even a first.

With that in mind, it was safe to assume that in this first image, she was practicing urban camouflage – blending in with her surroundings by altering her appearance and attire to mimic those around her. The less attention she drew to herself, the easier it would be to slip in and out unnoticed; it also created an additional challenge if anyone sought to locate her. As someone who’d had plenty of experience with stealth, Loki already had an idea of what her skill sets may include.

Stark studied the first image of her, brow furrowed as he spoke up. “Hell of a name, but she doesn’t look like much. What’s her doctorate in? Bad poetry? Sad music? Scaring parents?”

“Emergency Medicine.” Fury glared at Stark while Agent Hill changed the display to a second photograph. “Assuming she isn’t a serious threat is both the first and last mistake you’ll make about her.”

The second image must have been captured in combat. She crouched down as though she just landed from a maneuver, the obsidian hood of a frayed cloak masking the top half of her face as she held a black longsword composed entirely of what appeared to be magic in one hand. Her other hand radiated with darkness as it touched the ground, ready to launch some kind of spell. Blood smeared across her jawline, a scowl across her lips as a pair of corpses lay in the background. Unlike the first photo, now he could see a scar that ran down past the bottom of her lip, almost giving her the appearance of a permanently split lip. A second scar cut through the outside edge of her eyebrow, angling out towards her temple.

One detail piqued his interest: of all the realms that Loki had visited, he did not recognize where she was. He had to give it to Fury – this picture certainly made her appear far more intimidating.

“She specializes in shadow magic—“

The room erupted as all the Avengers fired off questions at the director.

“Shadow magic? Wait, is she the one behind those shadow beast-things we’ve been fighting lately?”

“What does she want?”

“Is she working for Dr. Doom?”

“Did HYDRA give her those powers?”

“What kind of villain studies emergency medicine?”

“Maybe this will help explain things.” Agent Hill tapped a screen as the image before them went to a video.

Loki had seen this video before - it was nearly impossible to miss, having been plastered all across the news for weeks. A Midgardian woman single-handedly eliminated an entire swarm of the shadowy monsters that had plagued New York City recently, all while in a subway car. Somehow, no one knew who she was or the methods used to exterminate the pests. It was obvious from the video that it was magic of some kind, though it was different from any magic Loki had ever encountered in his life and it did not resemble anything he had ever studied. Though he hadn’t admitted it to anyone, he was curious to meet this Midgardian and learn her abilities for himself.

Of course, that was assuming she was Midgardian. There were many species who appeared to be Midgardian, though biologically they were different. Usually, it was easy for Loki to sense if someone was Aesir, Midgardian, or otherwise; however, no indication that she was anything extraterrestrial revealed itself to him.

No, this woman must have been Midgardian. 

“That’s her?” Romanoff inquired, arching a perfectly groomed brow at Hill. 

“Wait wait wait , I thought she was the bad guy, but she’s killing the shadowy monsters here…” Wilson said, gawking at the screen. “Unless she’s really crazy and likes killing her own, this doesn’t make sense.”

“I’m telling you, if she’s the big bad and studied Emergency Medicine, she’s definitely got a screw loose,” Barnes said, “and that’s coming from the guy with a vibranium arm.”

“This incident was weeks ago - how is it that we are just now learning of her identity?” Rhodes interjected.

“She is not our enemy,” Agent Hill finally explained, raising her voice over the incessant chatter. “She has agreed to help the Avengers find the root cause of the shadow creature problem and exterminate the beasts.”

Stunned silence permeated the room. The ticking of the clock above Fury’s perpetual scowl only emphasized the blaring lack of sound. 

Loki could count on one hand the number of times he had ever witnessed total silence from the group; to see the group go from so animated to so silent nearly gave him whiplash.

“She’s joining the Avengers?” Stark’s disbelief was painted all over his face. “Emo queen Rapunzel is joining the Avengers?”

“Not exactly,” Agent Carter said, “She is coming on board specifically to help with the shadow creatures.”

“If she’s so powerful, why isn’t she already a part of the Avengers?” Banner asked, leaning in as he met Fury’s glare.

“This is a temporary arrangement.” Fury crossed his arms. “We struck a deal with her.”

“So she comes in and helps with the shadow creatures, and then what - she just disappears?” Captain Rogers pressed, “Don’t you think someone with expertise in shadow magic should be kept under close watch?”

“You’d be a fool to think she hasn’t been on SHIELD’s radar for a long time.” Fury crossed his arms and glowered at the group. “She turned down past offers to join the Avengers. Your mission is to convince her to stay.”

“Convince her to stay?” Romanoff shot Fury a wary glance, while others regarded the director as though he grew another head. 

“Assuming all goes well, we want her to remain on the team after the shadow creatures are eliminated,” Agent Hill explained. “She is highly adept in both physical and magical combat, and she has expertise in stealth operations. She fills in some key areas of the team that have been lacking, while her versatility allows her to fit into a variety of smaller teams with ease. However, we need you to convince her to stay.”

“Dr. Amaris cut her teeth in a different realm,” Fury added. “She has trained with threats far more powerful than what we have encountered here on earth, and fought to survive in far worse scenarios. Her experiences and insight would be invaluable in our operations.”

“Okay, but if you had to strike a deal with her, that still raises some questions…” Banner hesitated, raising an eyebrow at Fury. “It makes it sound like she wasn’t exactly keen to help protect the world.”

“Her skills are far too valuable to not be utilized.” Fury glared at Banner. “What I was going to say before someone interrupted my briefing is that she is also an incredibly powerful healer.“

“How do we know we can trust her?” Wilson asked. “I’m no wizard, but shadow magic sounds like trouble at best.”

Barton agreed. “Besides, Nat has us covered in stealth.”

“You know how to make a woman feel appreciated.” Romanoff coyly winked at Barton. 

While Loki wasn’t one to regularly agree with Wilson, for once he made a good point: this was something Loki was unfamiliar with, and at the very least it sounded dubious. 

“Because if I wanted to kill you, you would already be dead.”

Every head in the room snapped towards the entrance, eyes wider than dinner plates as they gawked at the source of the voice.

Leaning against the closed conference room door was the subject of their briefing. In real life, Theolene Amaris was smaller than Loki expected - not short by any means, as she appeared to be slightly taller than Maximoff and Romanoff; she was probably the average height for a Midgardian woman. However, she was lanky, with elongated limbs and a slight figure. She carried her head high with relaxed posture, one leg crossed in front of the other as she leaned on the doorframe with hands loosely tucked in her pockets. She didn’t seem to be intimidated by the strong personalities in front of her, even as she crashed their briefing.

Dr. Amaris sauntered into the room, eyes scanning over each of the Avengers with a smirk on her face. When she reached Loki she paused, quirking her head to the side as the curl of her lips increased. “Looks like one of us might need to change.”

At first, Loki was perplexed by her remark. Upon a second glance, it became obvious. They both wore almost identical outfits: black button-up shirts with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, tucked into tailored black trousers that showed a bit of ankle, and black Oxford shoes. 

He couldn’t help the snort that escaped him, a smile creeping across his own features as he allowed his shoulders to relax. 

It was unusual for someone to make him laugh, especially on a first encounter. And to shock the Avengers in such a way? Well, he certainly was intrigued.

“It seems we have similar tastes in apparel,” Loki commented coolly, wondering about the nature of her remark. 

Just then, Theo pulled a hand out of her pocket and snapped her fingers, instantly changing her outfit into a pair of ripped black jeans, a faded gray shirt emblazoned with some sort of sigil and the word “Queen,” and a pair of black sneakers. 

Loki could feel the magic pouring off of her - while she was no god, it was apparent to him that Fury wasn’t kidding when he said she was much more powerful than she let on.

“There, that’s better.” She dropped into the seat beside Loki, leaning back and kicking her feet up onto the table before sticking out one hand. “You must be Loki?”

“Indeed, and you must be Dr. Amaris.” Loki offered a wry grin, shaking her hand with a firm grip. “A fellow sorcerer, I see.”

“You could say that,” She winked, returning the gesture with a firm grip. “Call me Theo. Dr. Amaris is what my residents call me.”

From the opposite side of Theo, Thor beamed at the sight of his brother being surprisingly friendly to the Avengers’ newest addition. 

It took every ounce of self-restraint for Loki to prevent himself from rolling his eyes at his older brother. “Pleasure to meet you, Theo.” 

“Don’t get any funny ideas with Rapunzel here, Reindeer Games.” Stark warned, apparently having already settled on a nickname for the newest team member. 

Loki’s attention diverted to Stark, sending invisible daggers at the man. Even though they had come a long way from the distrust present when Loki first joined the team, there were certainly still moments where Stark got on his nerves.

This time it was Theo’s turn to snort. 

“Rapunzel? That’s the best nickname you’ve got, Tin Man?” Theo cocked one eyebrow at the billionaire as she laughed, brushing a piece of hair over her shoulder. “I may have long hair, but good luck with trying to lock me up in this tower.” 

“Watch out, or I might invent something so I can–”

“-- Then again, you named your AI system FRIDAY, so I shouldn’t be surprised,” She continued, unfazed by Stark’s threat. “Seriously, what the hell kind of name is that?”

“Says the person named Theolene...” 

“First of all, I just told you - I go by Theo, not Theolene. Second, I can’t help it that my mother has terrible taste in names. Third, Loki’s helmet has horns, not reindeer antlers. For a genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist , you should know the difference.” Theo turned to the other Avengers. “And while I’m correcting people, I don’t specialize in shadow magic. I specialize in celestial magic, of which shadow magic is a subset. Dr. Doom is a joke, HYDRA wishes they gave me these powers, and my refusal to become an Avenger has nothing to do with a lack of desire to protect people, it’s because I don’t want to spend my time playing superhero when I can be more useful as a doctor. Although whichever one of you suggested I had a screw loose - Bucky, I believe? - was probably right. At least, my cousin would agree with you. He’s pissed that I agreed to this.”

For the second time in mere minutes, the entirety of the Avengers were stunned into silence. If there were two words that best described the collective response, “utter bewilderment” would be Loki’s choice. 

“Wait a minute—“ Wilson blurted out, “How long have you been listening to our briefing? Have you been here this whole time?”

“Long enough to know you are just as skeptical of me as I am of you. It’s nothing personal, I know - I would be skeptical of me too! still, this has been enlightening.” Theo rose to her feet, gliding back to the entrance. She spun around, bowing with a dramatic flourish while flashing a cheshire grin at the crowd. “See you next Monday for your press conference!”

With a flick of her wrist, a series of black runes appeared all over her arms, flowing down her limbs like a stream of water. When they reached her fingertips, they rose into the air and evolved, surrounding her until she was obscured from view; in a flash of white, she disappeared, leaving nothing but a faint shimmer. The entire process took at most a few seconds, but the effect lingered far longer. 

It was a finale to the encounter that was almost as dramatic as her introduction.

If Loki’s instincts were correct, she was just getting started.

And that's alright (That's alright) I found a martyr in my bed tonight She stops my bones from wondering Just who I, who, I, who I am Oh, who am I? Mmm, mmm...

#loki #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki x ofc fanfiction #loki smut #(eventually) #slow burn #loki fic #friends to lovers #longfic #wemtbb #when everything's made to be broken

[rodricksfilipinagf]

Hate Sex (Jamie Tartt x Reader) Part 1

       I am about to unleash a lion’s share of anger. “This is your fault,” I spit as soon as I encounter Jamie in the hallway.

        “What, are you not having a good time?” He stares at me in amusement.

        I don’t have time for his shit. “What did you say to him?” I demand.

        He shrugs. “That the only reason you brought him was to make me jealous because you had feelings for me. What can I say? He had no problem believing it. Guess your little crush isn’t as hidden as you want.”

        I am beyond furious. “You are unbelievable. What, it’s not enough that you have to be the biggest pain in the ass to me at work, now you have to ruin my dating life?”

        “Oh, and what do you call banning me from bringing girls back to my place? You ruined mine first,” he fires back.

        “You are so immature. I can’t believe so many women think you’re great. It’s because none of them ever get to really know you! If they did, they’d hate you just as much as I do.” My hands clench into fists.

        “You don’t think I hate you too? This is because of you,” Jamie insists. I stalk off into a deserted hallway and he is hot on my heels. “My fucking trousers were tight enough already and you are making them worse.”

        “I’m sorry, but I don’t know how that’s my problem,” I snap, before realizing what he means too late. “Oh.” Really? This is how he admits he’s attracted to me?

        “I couldn’t get up or dance or have fun for most of the night because of you. I had to watch you laugh and dance and drive me fucking mad and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you.”

        God, he’s so infuriating. “Well imagine how I feel,” I say in a saccharine tone.

        Before I can register what’s happening, he cages me against the wall. “Tell me. What does seeing me like this do to you?”

        Makes me want to fuck the living daylights out of him. “Barf. Who’s that obsessed with being shirtless?” The jacket only adds to the hotness, but I’m not about to tell him that.

        He smirks. “You seem to like it a lot. You couldn’t stop staring at me during dinner.”

        “Only because I think it’s absurd someone has that big of an ego. I was disgusted.”

        “Yeah, when I’m disgusted with someone I always make a point to make bedroom eyes at them while dancing with someone else.” Jamie rolls his eyes.

        “That’s not what I was doing,” I protest.

        His eyes narrow. “I want you out of my system, now.”

        “What the fuck does that mean?” My tone is laced with venom.

        “You want to show me how much you hate me?” Jamie mocks. “Fuck my brains out so I can stop feeling like this and go back to purely despising you.”

        In that moment, I’m so fueled with hatred and pent up desire that I throw caution to the wind and decide to take him up on his offer. “In that case it shouldn’t take that long,” I say. “Do your worst.”

                                                       ~

        It doesn’t take long for Jamie to book us a room at the hotel, and I use the time he spent at the front desk to get my coat and bag, and tell my co-workers I’m leaving. 

        He approaches me where I’m standing near the elevators and my pussy feels sore just looking at him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you planned this. Get rid of my date so you can have me all to yourself.” The elevator doors open, and both of us step in.

        He scoffs. “Like I’d want you if I could help it.”

        The elevator doors close. “By the way, I hate your dress,” Jamie says. This guy is just a nonstop jerk, isn’t he? He brings his lips close to my ear. “Every time I look at you in it, I want to fuck you as hard as I can. I can’t wait until it’s off you.”

        A small hint of a smile appears on my face. “Maybe I’ll keep it on then. You really think I want to please you after what you did to me?”

        “Yeah,” Jamie chuckles. “I really do.”

        “Asshole,” I whisper as I tug him by his suit jacket closer to me. His lips crash against mine and his tongue wastes no time in tormenting mine. His right hand grabs my left ass cheek and squeezes it tight. I yearn to discard my clothes so I can feel his skin against mine.

        The elevator doors ding open, and we frantically search for our room, and he opens the door to it for us. I throw my fur coat and bag onto a chair and kick off my shoes.

        Before I know what’s happening, Jamie pins me to the bed and climbs on top of me. His lips are an inch away from mine and I can feel his hardness rubbing up against me. “So here’s what’s going to happen. I give you the best fuck of your life, you tell no one. We go back to just hating each other afterwards and never do this again.” Such a prick.

        “Fine by me,” I reply. “And of course your cocky ass would think this’ll be the best fuck of my life.”

        He smirks. “I know it will.”  He takes off his pants, and his black briefs show just how massive his dick is.

        “Holy shit,” I breathe out in spite of myself.

        He looks down proudly. “I have a pretty impressive cock, don’t I? If you want it inside you, I’d suggest taking off that dress.”

        I stare daggers at him. “Fucking arrogant bastard.” I tug down my dress, and my boobs spring free.

        Jamie’s eyes have a wicked glimmer in them. My underwear joins my dress on the floor. He slides off his briefs and kicks them to the floor.

        Before I can properly ogle his dick, his lips attach themselves to my neck as he gropes my chest.

        “What are you doing?” I ask. “Thought you wanted to keep it a secret.”

        “I do,” Jamie confirms. “You really thought I’d make it easy on you? Thought you knew me better than that.”

        “I really fucking hate you,” I seethe.

        He ensnares me in a kiss as one of his hands cups one of my breasts and squeezes it tight. My nipples harden at his touch and that bastard feels it, taking extra care to tease them with his fingers.

        He gives me an evil smile. “I know how thirsty you are for my dick, but I gotta do this first.” He flicks his tongue playfully against a puckered bud, and gives it long, languid licks, loving how tighter he’s making it, before he catches it in his teeth and bites down, making me groan.

       “You enjoying yourself, love?” His fingertips pinch my other hardened nipple as he brings my face close to his. “Admit it, you’ve wanted me to do this to you for a while now.”

       “You’re so full of yourself,” I say as my cheeks flush, betraying how much I like how he’s touching me.

        “And you’re full of shit,” Jamie counters before his mouth engulfs mine in a kiss, his hands running through and tugging at my hair. This is the best time I hate to admit I’ve had ever since coming to London, and it’s with my sworn enemy. No wonder so many girls want to have sex with him. His looks aren’t false advertising.

        I feel him easing his way inside me and I’m so wet and yearning for this that grinding against him feels so natural.        

       “Should have known you’d be nice and wet for me,” Jamie gloats. He decides to reward this by plowing his dick into me repeatedly, harder and harder, eliciting noisy groans out of me. “And you told me to be quiet,” he taunts in my ear. “You’re even louder than I was.”        

         I kiss him roughly as I feel his tip teasing around my clit. “Bet you can’t find it,” I breathily whisper against his lips. My moans of pleasure let on that he’s very, very close.        

         “I’ll do it if you tell me I’m a sex god,” Jamie declares, clearly wanting to prolong tormenting me.        

         “No, you fucking prick,” I hiss.        

          “Then I won’t get you off,” he replies. “What a shame. We were so close too.”         

          “We?” I repeat.         

         “Yep.” Jamie takes my bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard, not above punishing me in other ways. It makes me even wetter.         

         I draw back to look at him. “Jamie,” I say. “I hate you so, so much.” His gray eyes never waver from mine. “You fucking sex god.”         

         He gives me an evil smirk. “Thanks, love.” He finally penetrates my G-spot, and I let out an ear-splitting shriek. And judging by how he finishes all over me, he got just as much out of it as I did.

       You’re a sex god, Jamie Tartt. And I despise you for it.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt fanfiction #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso imagine

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 3x8 Thoughts

I’ve written all of these after seeing the episode only one time but I think this one might benefit from a rewatch more than anything else. Even if, unfortunately, this was absolutely my least favorite episode of this stupid wonderful show. (Or was it? What will a rewatch reveal to me?)

I have tried very hard not to have a lot of fun-time-ruining expectations about this Media Experience that has bewitched me since January fucking 2021. But I’ll admit that I had some serious expectations about the writing of this episode. Keeley Hazell and Dylan Marron! I was so excited to see what the ultimate Keeley Jones expert, the Keeley inspiration, the namesake herself, would have to say about this character. And actually, I thought Juno Temple got some really incredible material to work with, and I think she acted the living fuck out of this episode. I came away with a deeper understanding of Keeley’s character. A sense of who she is when she wakes up in bed next to someone who delights her. A sense of how it feels when someone she loves deeply disappoints and hurts her, and how it feels when someone she could have loved chooses a status over a human, and how it feels when someone she used to love holds himself accountable to her. 

There was so much about this episode that felt incredibly natural: 

everything about Juno’s performance 

the ways Jack is charming and tantalizing and expansive and the ways she’s small and cowardly and disappointing were perfect…wlw rep doesn’t happen in a vacuum of purity, this is wlw rep but this is also billionaire asshole rep this is venture capitalism rep this is richer-than-Rebecca-Welton rep this is manipulator rep

the perfect moment when Jade tells Nate to celebrate his victories after a lifetime of hearing his father shame him for taking pride in his successes

the anti-chemistry chemistry of Ted and Michelle and their long history

absolutely everything about Rebecca as lifeline and sense-talker for Ted (and soulmate…I’m so tired, but it just remains true that they’re fucking soulmates, and I hope they find out and I’m still pretty sure they will)

Beard in an apron making pancakes for his boys

Rebecca holding Keeley and telling her a possibly slightly exaggerated story about her introduction to masturbation to cheer up her beloved bestie

the utter pain of Roy being once again a very good person who has fucked up badly in a parking lot (this time with consequences)

Ted’s sweet little voices as he reads to Henry (and the WTF moment he has about himself after Henry has fallen asleep)

Last night my wife and I went out for a beer and broke down a bunch of these moments and how good they actually were, and how strange it was to have, honestly, a wealth of beautifully written and acted moments in an episode that really didn’t work for us. Because those highs made the lows seem so much lower. 

The locker room scene…I’ve watched anti-harassment and standards-of-business videos for my corporate job that are better than whatever that was. I understand what they were trying to do. And I understand that this is a story that has so much real-life crossover and is so incredibly important to get right and was probably so complicated and often painful to write that I feel very empathetic about the ways that all that pressure might have conspired to make this episode worse instead of better. I have no interest in judging those conditions, nor do I think it’s some big hilarious gotcha that this writer (well, writers) wrote about this topic. But I do have to judge the final product, which reads like a group of people taking turns saying things like “This is a bad thing in our society” and “Is it so bad?” and “Yes, fellow man, it really is that bad” and “But wait, why should I have any responsibility for this bad thing in our society?” and “Well, here is why you actually do have some responsibility for this bad thing in our society.” 

Even the Keeley-Rebecca scene wavers in and out, whereas normally a scene with those two is rock solid. They spend a lot of time explaining the societal conditions to each other instead of relying on the shorthand that two best friends would use to communicate. I mean, thank God Rebecca was totally with Keeley on this one—if she hadn’t been, that would’ve warranted something on the spectrum of lecture—but because she was, their exchange of lines about sexualization just had me feeling like I am watching a TV show about a very special issue, I am watching a TV show about a very special issue. 

Just as I’m not looking to Jack Danvers to convince a homophobe why bi people are cool (she could be the coolest most respectful gal in the world and she’s not gonna convince a bigot that queer people actually are great!), I desperately wish they’d taken a less heavy hand with this stuff. Keeley’s pain—her vehement lack of embarrassment, her disappointment—says it all. 

And I am so sorry to say that I feel like Brendan Hunt, who always, always knows when to dial it down and when to dial it up, when to bury and when to emote, dialed it way too far up when talking to Henry while Ted’s on the phone with Rebecca. I am a huge defender of how this show uses musical scenes; bring on the cheese, bring on the champagne bottle microphones, bring on the sing-alongs and heightened emotions and funeral rick rolls. Every other time a character has sung on this show, it’s been natural in the awkwardness and the slightly-outsized emotions and the inherent goofiness of it all. This time, they just could not create the right emotional conditions to earn this moment. I’m not going to give a detailed critique of a child's performance on a public website, but unfortunately I think this is a moment when the writers actually underwrote what Henry needed to say, because I’m mystified as to how he’s actually feeling and doing. Understanding those things is essential to understanding where this story is going, so I’m really upset that a huge chunk of information is missing now.

And that leads me to the incredibly unsettling ending. I had to be talked down off a ledge. I’m now pretty sure the ambiguities of how Ted and Michelle are around each other are about recognizing the ways they used to work, their common reference points, their knowledge of each other, while simultaneously experiencing yet another goodbye, yet another turning point in this (realistic, tbh) endless cycle of navigating the split. But I’m really struggling to understand Ted’s headspace in the final couple minutes of the show, whereas usually I feel like I’m practically living inside his brain as I watch. 

I’ve loved s3 so far. I always knew it would be as distinct a thing of its own just as much as s1 and s2 were distinct from each other. As much as I’d be enjoying a return to the specific magic of s1, it would be impossible and wrong and even irresponsible of them to try to recreate it, and I think it would fall flat, and so I’m glad I knew that would never be my experience with this season of TV. And yet it’s a little unnerving, even as this person who’s tried to keep my high expectations open-ended, to feel so bummed about 3x8. The conversation over that beer about all the really good stuff did make me feel better, because it reminded me that the really badly done parts of this episode were less about story than about the circumstances of the storytelling. To me, those circumstances make the clunkers more forgivable instead of less. But it was still disappointing.

Probably every Ted Lasso fan feels this way on some level, but I am having such a singular experience. I am a fifteen-year-old girl again, holed up in my room because “no one understands………why I feel the way I feel about Ted Lasso.” The membrane between my takes and my empathetic yet judgmental reactions to other people’s takes is permeable and problematic. It’s shameful, but I want everyone to love it because I love it and I want everyone to calm down because I’m calm and I want everyone to be at the edge of their seat and not at all calm because I’m at the edge of my seat and not at all calm and I want everyone to love Ted/Rebecca even if they never kiss because I love Ted/Rebecca (even if they never kiss) and I want everyone to have hated this episode because I hated it and I want everyone to give it time and space to breathe because I’m trying to do that and I want everyone to wait and see what fucking happens because I’ve got some kind of freak patience when it comes to this fucking experience. I want to be my best self and I am not my best self. I’m insane about this show, and I’m not working on the issue. Eek. 

#ted lasso #ted lasso meta #meta by me #ted lasso s3 spoilers #ted lasso 3x8 #hot dork club #ted x rebecca #nate x jade #keeley x jack

[ryuichirou]

Hey Ryu! (I hope it's ok to call u that (⁠´⁠；⁠ω⁠；⁠｀⁠)) I've been looking at ur art and fanfics for a while and I rlly support Shroudsect! \(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)/ I was thinking abt this for a while and was wondering if u would like to share sum Yandere Ortho fic! U can share them with any scenario, any characters, and any place! I'm just curious what u will create out of this (ofc if u have the time.) Thanks for reading this and thank u for ur glorious artwork! Have a great day/night! (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡

Hi Anon! Of course you can call me Ryu <3 Thank you so much for enjoying our art and posts and for liking the way we portray Shroudcest!

Yandere Ortho is one of our favourite themes, we really like how dangerous he can get whenever he feels the need to protect Idia (so pretty much always). Despite his disposition and attitude + the fact that he likes to push Idia to live a healthier life and socialize, both of them are dependent on each other. So I’ll share a couple of OruIde headcanons with yandere!Ortho, if this is what you’d like to read!

Both regular/robot Ortho and human Ortho could easily be a yandere. Robo!Ortho has issues with empathy, since he is an AI, but human!Ortho isn’t much better. He looks much more socially adapted than Idia: he is extraverted, he has friends, he seems to be a nice guy who knows how to react when he needs to support someone, but his feeling of empathy is actually worse than Idia’s: he’s just good at mimicking it. In actuality he is so obsessed with Idia that he doesn’t actually take others’ feeling into consideration when acting.

Because of that, if someone were to mistreat Idia or say something bad about him, this person not only would stop being Ortho’s “friend” in a second, they would become an enemy to be eliminated. Obviously, we’ve seen this in canon, when Ortho wanted to shoot lasers at some random students for talking shit about Idia, so he (both in his robo!form and in his human!form) clearly isn’t opposed to harming others for Idia’s sake (even though Idia wouldn’t want him to do it…).

Depending on how dark you want to go, Ortho could’ve easily killed a guy or even a bunch of guys, despite being previously friendly with them, because he felt like they were making fun of Idia. In some extreme scenarios it’s very possible, and it makes Ortho quite scary.

That being said, he isn’t always this intense: sometimes just ruining a person socially is enough for Ortho. It’s also reflected in canon: he has a lot of dirt on others and can easily obtain blackmail material if needed, so tormenting someone and threatening them because of their sins against his precious Idia is something that Ortho does. He usually doesn’t tell Idia about it though, but not because he doesn’t want him to know what kind of horrible things he does, but because he doesn’t want Idia to get upset (mostly because of the things that these assholes are saying about him).

Despite the fact that Ortho wants Idia to make friends and even be involved with someone romantically, he is actually quite prone to jealousy, because he is so used to Idia belonging to him only. This wouldn’t be too obvious because of how supportive Ortho would be of Idia, but he would actually be upset about Idia seeing someone else. Especially if Idia is visibly happy with someone else. Ortho would obviously  be emotionally tormented, because he doesn’t want to take away Idia’s happiness, but…

… but it is for the best, isn’t it? So he would sabotage their relationship by either scaring the guy away or creating miscommunication/misunderstandings between them, to make Idia feel like the guy is avoiding him or making fun of him. It is painful to see Idia so devastated, but it’s alright, because Ortho is always there to comfort him and shower him with love. And he, unlike all the other people, would never hurt Idia!

Ortho really uses the fact that Idia would never suspect him of any wrongdoing in his advantage. Idia adores Ortho and even idealizes him a little bit, thinking that Ortho would never do anything malicious. Not only that, Idia also always expects bad things from everyone other than Ortho, so it wouldn’t be too surprising for him that a person that he liked ditched him in the weirdest way possible. He would be heartbroken about his sudden breakup with that person, but being comforted by Ortho feels nice, so…

… so Ortho is definitely going to use that to make a move on Idia and kiss him. And talk about how everything has happened for a reason and that they are destined to be together, him and Idia.

No matter how Idia replies or reacts to that statement, Ortho is never going to back down. He has decided that they’re going to be together forever, and that they don’t need anybody else, so this is how things are going to be. Ortho is really stubborn.

Ortho doesn’t categorize his adoration towards Idia as a romantic or non-romantic love: he does have romantic feelings and sexual desire towards him, but he is also super obsessed with him in general, he almost believes that this feeling is way too strong to just be considered “love”.

#replies #headcanons #shroudcest

[miscellanyofmusings]

Rifftrax Sentence Starters

“______, didn’t I dispatch you to hell earlier?”

“ ______, shut up forever.” 

"Alright. That does it. I officially have no idea what we're looking at, why we're here, or even who I am anymore."

“And I pray that I never have to emote any more than I just did. I'm exhausted.”

“And if you're ready, _____, may I offer you a wide-awake nightmare?

“Aw man, I thought we could trust the slimy loser.”

“Being a creepy evil creep is a reward in and of itself.”

“Bland? I mean, honey? Can I make you some bland milk? I mean, warm bland? I mean, warm milk?”

“Careful, they might miss at you.”

“Die! Die in a fire! Live again and then die!”

“Did you guys just see that or has my brain fully melted?”

“Do you think you can do me the teensiest favor and just kill me now?”

“Feels like an NPR audio essay is about to break out.”

“Forgive me, Father. I killed like eight guys today.”

“Fuck you. Pay me."

“Having knowledge about things is not really my specialty.”

“He died as he lived: looking dumb as Hell.”

“He has all the fighting skills of a sock monkey."

“Hell is other people and stuff.”

“I’m condescending for no reason, got it?” 

“I've tried nothing—And it's not working!"

“I can’t answer your question because that would acknowledge you exist.”

“I can’t live with myself knowing there’s something out there I haven’t murdered.”

“I don’t want to oversell it, but it will fill you with sadness.” 

"I find words difficult because I can't punch them."

“I have a two part question. One, will I ever feel joy again? Two, what did I do to deserve this?”

“I hope you like really tough burnt meat and shitty scotch.”

"I love it when a plan sort of slowly congeals together."

“I thrive on your ignorance.” 

“I tripped and fell up five flights of stairs and landed here.”

“Is your torture basement even up to code?”

“It’s not what you said; it’s that you exist.”

“It irritates me too that I can defy logic, time, and physics."

"It is pleasant to be happy because it increases our amount of gladness."

“Let's carpe diem and mumble and mope like we've never mumbled and moped before!”

“Mind if I dial up the gay?”

"Never have I cared so little about so few for so long."

“Nothing calms a kid more than a poster of a deranged clown.”

“My philosophy is to see how many Pop-Tarts I can eat in two minutes.” 

“No, don’t, ____, please! Seriously! I will kill all your enemies! Please!”

"No good story ever starts with ‘so there I was, pouring gasoline all over the dead girl’s body.’”

"Oh good. Something else for the Gallery of Things That Should Not Be."

“Oh, thoughtless sociopath, you’re my best friend.”

“Okay, so I’ll take that ominous cryptic answer as a firm yes.”

“Our hero— again, fighting like a sociopathic four year-old.”

"Please don't ruin this moment by surviving!"

“Rush in blindly! A plan can only hinder us!"

"Screaming? Laughter? At this point, what's the difference?"

“So where do you think you’re gonna dump my body?” 

"So…You give up here often?" 

“Society as we know it would disintegrate if people knew the truth about whatnot.”

“Thank you, most boring sounding person in the world.”

“That’s a very friendly murder threat.”

“That sounded a lot more menacing and less gay in my head.” 

“This is my bullshit lecture!” 

“Wait a minute, I thought you said ‘pass the time,’ not ‘destroy all hope in the universe.’” 

"We are reconciled now through the cleansing power of violence."

“Well, that was neither fun nor interesting, but at least it gave us no new information.” 

“Well, time to pretend I know stuff.”

"Well, whoopty-shit."

"Welp... Forgone conclusion ain't gonna forgone conclude itself."

“Who can resist an asshole?”

“Women, right? Always like, ‘This seems fatally stupid!’ Blah, blah, blah.’”

“Yeah, I do feel my own mind drifting through thoughts of Socrates—in that I want to drink hemlock and die.”

"You're a lying liar who lies! You lie!"

“You're not allergic to severe acid burns, are you?”

“You taste like libertarianism and cigars.”

“Your evil is reassuring.” 

“Your violent, misogynistic criminal vibe lets me know I can trust you.” 

#rp meme #sentence starters #rp starter #meme #memes #murder /// #violence tw #chaotic sentence starters #rp prompts #roleplay prompts

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for watching a movie as a family without including my dad? Writing it out, I think I know the answer, but this has still been bugging me.

Around Thanksgiving I (30s) visited home. It was also a trip to see for my mom (late 60s) for her birthday, so I was there for a few days longer than a Thanksgiving trip would normally account for. My brother (30s) and his wife (30s) visited for her birthday too. My dad (early 70s) was there as well. They've been married over 30 years. Originally I'd planned to take everybody out to see a movie as a birthday present for my mom...but it turned out there was literally nothing at the theater that my mom was interested in at all. The town is pretty small, and the options were limited. So instead, we started out with a nice dinner, and family board game run-through of a trivia game we all thought we'd have some fun with. My mom ended up winning, which is rare and was not deliberate, and it wrapped the game up way faster than we'd anticipated.

My dad immediately went back into the living room after the game ended, openly a little annoyed that mom had won a trivia game based on something he considers himself the family expert in. He watches old reruns of the show he's seen a million times on a loop every day, and it can be pulling teeth to get him to do anything else. It was just a fluke, but something the rest of us considered a pleasant surprise since none of us had expected she'd win. But he was annoyed. Given that it was still early, Mom suggested we find a movie to watch online, so we could all wind down before bed with something the whole family could enjoy.

Dad said no. Now this feels like important context: I...have a lot of problems with my dad. I love him, but he can be extremely emotionally immature. Downright verbally abusive at times. And very petty. I'm in therapy in no small part due to some of the insecurities he instilled in me over the years. I've worked hard to set basic boundaries with him. He also has multiple medical issues, and I'm pretty sure he has untreated depression and other mental health problems he refuses to acknowledge that contribute to him flying off the handle at a moment's notice. That, combined with the fact that my mom will 100% never, ever leave him, because she was raised in a very specific mindset that she's never been fully able to shake...means my brother and I usually have to grit our teeth when he starts ranting/yelling/complaining during a visit, or we'd just end up ruining the day for our mom. She's done so much for us, and we just wanted her to have a good visit. So, that's what I did for most of the trip. I breathed deep when my dad openly mocked my stutter, and refused to get in a fight about it. I stopped myself from getting visibly upset when he tried to feed my cat table scraps even when I told him the cat needs a special diet. On other days I tried to watch his old shows with him, and ignored the sexist comments he'd make about the female leads, all for the sake of keeping the peace.

But, it was Mom's birthday. And she wanted to watch a movie.

And Dad said no.

He refused to give up his marathon of old westerns from 60 years ago to watch a new movie with his family on the big tv in the living room.

My mom seemed disappointed, so I suggested we watch one on my laptop in the kitchen instead. Without my dad, if he really wanted to watch his show instead. She agreed, and my brother, his wife, my mom and I filed into the kitchen, sat in less-than-comfy chairs, and watched a fantasy heist film that I'd thought they would all enjoy. And they did. My brother was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the movie (I'd already vouched for it being good, none of the others had seen it previously) His wife kept making notes for her dnd campaign. My mom found it hilarious, and liked that some actors from another show she liked were in it.

My dad stayed in the living room, watching his marathon.

Partway through the movie, he came in and asked us what we were watching. We told him, and he passed through the kitchen for something he needed, then said that we were being too loud. More context: the kitchen is right next to the living room, but my dad turns the tv up so loud in there it can get physically painful to be in the room with him. He refuses to get hearing aides, and only recently relented on subtitles. He also has a habit of screaming at anyone who tries to talk for a long time when his shows are on and they're in earshot, even if they're in a different room. We thought he couldn't hear it over his tv, and so when he said something we said sorry and that we'd try to keep it down, but we could already barely hear it through the laptop speakers. We already had subtitles turned on to make sure we didn't miss anything. When we told him that, he got even more annoyed. He asked how we'd like it if he turned the tv up so loud we couldn't understand anything, then proceeded to go into the living room and do just that, just as I was trying to figure out how much more we could lower the volume without losing our whole experience. We called in that we were already turning it down, and he finally turned his volume back down as well. We finished our movie, turning the volume down during action scenes and up during speaking scenes so we could actually hear the dialog. We enjoyed the rest of the film, and then people started getting ready for bed, and my mom went to check on my dad. She told me a few minutes later that he was hurt that we'd watched the movie without him. That he felt left out. I told her that he'd had multiple opportunities to join us, and that is was his choice not to watch with us. And honestly, the fact that he wouldn't give up the real tv for a couple hours so she could have a birthday movie was really upsetting to me.

She still seemed to feel bad that he was left out, and I'm a little worried that he might've sulked for days afterwards, leaving my mom in an even more stressful environment after I left. Am I the asshole for insisting my mom get to watch a movie on her birthday? And would I be the asshole if I told my dad off for what I consider to be extremely selfish behavior?

Also before anyone asks, no, I'm not cutting him off. It's literally impossible to do that without pretty much cutting off my mom as well, and she absolutely doesn't deserve that. And yes, I've offered up my apartment as a place she can stay if she ever needs to. Repeatedly. She hasn't taken me up on it yet.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[floatingbunnyhead]

A.I. Sucks or: How I Learned to Mass Delete Posts Because CEOs are Senseless Idiots

Where did everything go? Tumblr has been the home of FloatingBunnyHead.com since 2011. Unfortunately, the moron CEO of tumblr is probably going to make a deal with Midjourney to grind up our pictures and words and feed them to a generative A.I. So that’s it for me. The art I have made will no longer live on their website. I could go on for pages about how much I hate generative A.I. But this is all you really need to know: I want nothing to do with it. I don’t want to see it. It sucks. People who use it should be eaten alive by horses. Also, Tumblr has been a pretty cool place. It really sucks that rich assholes keep ruining our nice things. The internet used to be fun and useful. Now what? Cheers, Jonathan Sims SKELENAUT.COM

#fuck ai art #ai art sucks #tumblr #tumblr's ceo #matt mullenweg #been here since 2011 #jonathan sims #jon sims #skelenaut #floating bunnyhead #iowa artist #midwest artist #indie comics

[fonulyn]

So Death Island and how bad it is in expanding on the lives of our fav RE characters beyond just the games/movies in a believable organic way (like seriously Chris not even mentioning Piers to Jill before this???) - I'd love to hear your thoughts on what Jill and Piers' relationship could be. Like give me your thoughts on Piers desperately working or communicating with Jill on how to find Chris pre RE6. Maybe even what their first meeting was like. What do you think Jill felt at first about this puppy who I imagine to be so similar to STARS Chris before Wesker betraying them.

I don't at this point headcanon her to be overly involved with Nivannedy happening in comparison to Chris but I'm happy to be educated 👀👀

(also omg bonding and support following Piers' recovery from the C-virus and how she could relate from being Wesker's puppet and experiment)

honestly, DI was fun, I enjoyed it, but mostly just the Jill & Leon parts if I'm honest and okay some of the Redfield siblings interactions. the main villain was weak, Maria was completely wasted, and idek I wanted more. but SERIOUSLY. "THIS GUY CALLED PIERS"???? FUCK RIGHT OFF. there is no way that Jill didn't know who Piers was. even if they didn't have a personal relationship, she would've known OF him and I absolutely refuse to believe otherwise. insinuating otherwise is a damn insult to Piers, and the movie lost SO MANY points from me with that. it could've been a lovely callback and a nod to him but they ruined it. RUINED IT. assholes.

coughs. anyway.

we canonically know that at least Claire was in some kind of contact with Piers pre-re6 so to me it'd make perfect sense if Jill was as well. I know it's a bit vague where Jill was actually recovering, but i doubt she was somewhere completely cut off from the rest of the world, so she would've still been in contact with her friends. and when Chris disappears? there's no way she didn't know. remember how Chris moves heaven and earth to find Jill, multiple times? Jill would do the same for Chris. Jill would not necessarily be in the thick of action if she wasn't yet cleared for it but she wouldn't stay completely out of it.

and in that vein I actually kind of like the idea that when Chris goes missing, Piers is charged to find him, communicates with Jill, and Jill then directs him to Leon, who could potentially help. since, you know, you mentioned nivannedy 😇 she might not necessarily make it happen lmao but she could be the initial point of connection, potentially!

but like. we all know Chris is the type to act without thinking, and both Jill and Piers have had to be the person to rein him in and try to talk sense into him. so post-re6 it would be amazing if they could bond over that. they'd only need to exchange a single look and they'd both know what it means. they would have this camaraderie, all "what did he do this time?" and "yeah that's him" and "oh i knew it". not in a mean way lol, in an affectionate way, but still very frustrated :'D

and I genuinely think Piers would look up to Jill so much. he already respects Chris greatly, as we know, but I think he'd think Jill is even more badass tbh :'D he'd be all heart-eyed over her in the "oh my god she's so cool i want an autograph" kind of way, until they'd get to know each other better lol. but even then, some level of admiration would remain, 100%.

as for the other way around, I think that Piers would remind Jill of young Chris in more than one way. there's the determination, the drive, the temper too. I bet she'd first keep secretly giving him these bewildered looks at moments when he does something that REALLY reminds her of the past lol. she would get used to it, but i think it'd be a learning curve at first. and it doesn't help her mind has been fucked with tbh, these blasts from the past would be equal parts sorta nice nostalgia and actually disturbing because of everything she went through.

if they'd made Piers and Jill work together to find Chris that would've been such a dream team. they'd both do anything to find him.

and you're so right, damn, once Piers recovers from the c-virus infection they'd have even more in common. granted, he wasn't exactly being puppeteered by anyone like she was, but there'd still be enough common ground for understanding each other on a level not everyone can.

and since I'm obsessed and my brain is never far from Leon lol, that is one thing I wish was around more; Jill and LEON bonding over their experiences. Leon was infected with the plaga and although it only took over very briefly he knows the feeling, he knows the sensation, firsthand. and Jill spent so long being controlled, doing things she didn't want to do... they'd understand each other on a deeper level others couldn't.

damn this makes me regret i've written Jill so rarely. but honestly, i love her, but i'm also a bit intimidated that i wouldn't get her right so I've been a coward 😅

ANYWAY I rambled. I don't know if I actually answered anything you asked :'D

#anonymous #ask and i shall answer #re answers

[neverluckygoldfish]

44 -

I started smoking weed because I couldn’t handle my alcohol (read: it made me into an asshole, among ruining my life & other things). And I didn’t have access to other things.

I stopped hanging out with friends because I was embarrassed of my using. Because I like to go go go until I’m basically comatose. Because for me, using & drinking - it’s not about the fun anymore. It’s about getting my mind to shut up, it’s about feeling calm in my chest. As my therapist says “you live life on overdrive, huh?” haha. Blame the ADHD and traumatic childhood.

It’s really depressing to read that and realize I’m talking about myself.

I guess I’ve always been like that. Whether it’s opiates, amphetamines, cocaine, ecstasy, alcohol, weed, anything really… whatever and how much ever it takes to get me out of my head.

It’s always when I go too hard, when I dance the fine line between life and death, that I realize I want to live. So I live. But I don’t know why.

Anyway, some life updates:

I have not drank. Nope. Not a single sip. Can’t BELIEVE IT!!! 128 days. The real test is next week when I’m in Mexico for two weeks for my wedding.

We’re cutting off the weed. I’m trying to. It’s so so so hard. For what it’s worth, I have enjoyed my mindful evening walks with a joint in my hand.

I’ve been trying to remind myself why life is worth living. The sweetness and consistency in every day.

I got a job!! It’s part time & low stress.

Most of my depression circles around “what’s the point?” and “everything people want is just societal conditioning and I dislike people” …really light stuff.

It’s not that I dislike people if I’m being honest, it’s that I’m a really sensitive person, I don’t care that much about people’s actions, and I often take people literally. Sarcasm? We don’t know her very well LOL. Also I need a lot of alone time, like A LOT. People don’t always get that.

I’ve left shame, guilt, over apologizing, feeling insecure & caring what people think back in 2023.

So I fucked up and became a lil pothead again. It could have been worse. I think that it had to happen this way.

People make mistakes!!! No one is perfect!!! Let’s forgive others and ourselves!!! We’re doing the best we can!! It’s our first time being human!!!

SHE is trying to show me something.

Fall down seven times, stand up eight. More to come.

#self love #healing #recovery #mental health #sobriety #healing journey #addiction recovery #alcoholism #depression recovery #spiritual growth

[trollprincess]

Okay, SO. Some of you may recall when I gave this speech to the town council in March because our gay mayor intends to be a community center and made a point to say, “This will be an LGBTQ+ safe space,” and all the bigots here promptly *lost their shit*.

Anyway, I posted it to my personal TikTok and then promptly got distracted by work/life/stress/being broke/etc., and came back today to see if I have enough Professor videos to make a “Where the heck is Mahm?” video. Aaaaaand that’s when I spotted this:

Aside from the fact that this person did not listen to anything I said at all, or at least has the listening comprehension of a chair, I mostly just rolled my eyes, then went to my FB and wrote this. (Look, writing is my best weapon.)

Anyway, here:

“Okay, let’s try this again, because I know there are a WHOLE bunch of people with reading and listening comprehension so bad their teachers should be ashamed. (Not HERE, obviously, my FB is *heavily* curated.)

“This is a safe place for the queer community” does not mean it’s ONLY for the queer community. It just means you can’t show up and be a homophobic or transphobic dick.

“This is a safe place for the Black community” and “Black Lives Matter” is not ONLY about Black people. It’s about police violence (which affects everyone, even if the cops have always been nice to you) and racism (which affects everyone) and a whole bunch of other aspects of American daily life.

“This is a safe place for women” does not mean it’s ONLY for women. It’s for people who can manage to be mature and kind to others, and not be a sexist harassing douchebag.

Stop shoving “ONLY” into whichever statement you hear that YOU don’t like. It’s not fucking there. It never was. And if you’re hearing it, it’s because someone else telling you you can’t go somewhere unless you can behave like you’ve got some home training and won’t be an asshole makes you angry, because you were PLANNING to be an ass.

That’s YOU telling on yourself.

“But why do you have to SAY it?”

Why? Because THAT was your first reaction. Because when we feel grateful we know a place will be safe, you seem angry we get to have that security. Because if we knew we were safe, we wouldn’t have to acknowledge these things. But we do, because of sexual assaults and hate crimes and mass murders. Because of Ecole Polytechnique and Pulse nightclub and the Charleston church shooting. Because YOU may not need to hear it, but some of us stand in nightclubs with our backs to the walls and our gaze darting toward the entrance, or memorize the Angel drink in bars so we know how to get the bartender’s attention if a guy won’t leave us alone, or have to get “the talk” about how to respond to cops as a kid because you need to be seen as harmless as humanly possible or they’ll shoot you, and even THAT might not work.

My last podcast episode was on the Club Q shooting. A queer club where everyone went for fun and acceptance, ruined by a broken person directing their hate at a vulnerable community. And nearly every survivor account I read mentioned being afraid of another Pulse. We’re afraid of another Pulse, and another Club Q. We’re afraid of another AIDS crisis dismissed because it first hit the gay community, and COVID being dismissed because it majorly hit communities of color and the disabled. We’re afraid because the people who make these arguments are the ones we have to add to our mental list of people who might wish to hurt us. People who don’t want us harmed, or want to harm us? They’re not the ones arguing against these assurances.

We know who to fear. Mostly because they’re never, EVER quiet.”

#lgbtqia #queer #queer pride #I am BEGGING people not to shame the work of at lest thirteen years’ worth of teachers by acting like this