#oh god do i need to start going on facebook again

[vagueconfusion]

Video taken by Katie McAllister on Facebook and posted to the Vessel Is God....Everything Sleep Token🙌🏻🎶✨ facebook group

Anyways here's II throwing lemons. For. A Reason.

#sleep token #also iv accepting a mini sombrero which is also pictured on the facebook group #and a picture of someone holding one of the lemons lmao #oh god do i need to start going on facebook again #did they just have lemons backstage? why? #i have so many questions that will never be answered #imagine running back on stage to a bunch of cheering and throwing lemons into the crowd??? honestly. power move?

[josephquinnswhore]

Red Wine & Reparation

Pairing: joel miller x female reader

Summary: you and Joel became young parents, married young and divorced young.. coparenting can be hard.. especially when you still love each other.

Word Count: 7k

Content Warnings: no outbreak, awkward divorced young couple, Joel Miller being a cat guy, flirting, awkwardness, slight implication of attempted SA. Unprotected sex, oral—female receiving, praise, pet names, tongue fucking, slight submissive Joel???? Creampie, mentions of pregnancy, and breastfeeding kink ??

Note: in this fic female reader & Joel are the same age, late 20’s in this fic!! This is my contribution for this week lol.

You were expecting a visit from Joel in a few hours; although you’d tried to be in contact with him, it seemed he was struggling to get back to you. Texts gone unanswered, calls sent straight to voicemail. It was unusual, and as clingy as you felt, it wasn't like Joel not to be in contact, especially when it came to your daughter, Sarah.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

He calls your name from the other side of the door. “Hey, you home?”

The door swings open and Joel stands on the other side of the door, you can't ignore the subsequent look of franticness in his brown eyes. “Hey.” His second greeting is a little more relaxed, if anything a little bashful. The tips of his ears are red under his dark brown curls.

“I just got a new phone, had a little malfunction at work with the other one, mind putting your number in?” You take the new phone, something that seemed way too fancy for Joel, an Iphone 13. As if your eyebrows raise of their own accord, it doesn't go unnoticed by him.

“I never took you for a man that cared about keeping up with the trends.” Your remark earns a scoff. “I just want to be able to keep up with everything Sarah’s into these days, all the facebooking and snapping or whatever she's got.”

His social unawareness pulls a laugh from her dry throat. “I'm surprised she wants you on her snapchat, teenage girls don’t normally want their parents seeing what they’re up to.”

He grunts. “How are you anyway—both of you.. I mean.”

“Things have been okay, I've taken a step back from work to try and relax a bit more, you know?” Although Joel nods, he can't relate, he’d just gone through the ringer of starting his own business with Tommy.

But Joel knows you need a break, he notices the physical telltale signs of stress. Lines beside your eyes that didn't seem visible a few months ago, the slight strain in yout voice and even your physical stance seems off. You seem to be trying to mask it, but he notices.

“Everything at work alright? They givin’ you trouble again?”

Again. How you'd forgotten about the last time you confided about how bad work had been getting. The unpaid overtime and extensive workload. Joel seemed furious at the thought of you wearing yourself thin and had even rung your workplace, that's an incident that got you a written warning.

In an attempt to dismiss his worries you wave your hand. “Ah it's not so bad, I’ve taken some time off with what little annual leave I have.”

“That’s good. You work too hard, you do.” His voice is softer than it had been a moment ago, his gaze settling on your own. He tries his hardest to suppress the memories as he stares into your eyes, he tries to forget how easy things were back then in comparison to now.

You break eye contact as you feel your kitten rubbing herself up against your legs. The little creature lets out a small mew.

Joel’s shock is evident on his face, the fluffy white bundle of fur rubs itself along your pant leg, its tiny mews echoing in his ears. “Oh my god, what in the world..” He stammers. “Is that…?”

Your entire face heats up. “I know.. I've never been a fan of cats but.. She's cute right?”

Joel can't help the instinctual reaction to kneel down onto the floor to get a closer look at the fluffy bundle of fur. He lets the small creature sniff his hand before petting her. With every stroke of his fingers along her pointed ears, she purrs louder. “What's her name?”

“Her names angel. Sarah named her.”

“Of course she would,” Joel murmurs, still petting the kitten as he looks up at you from the floor. “How'd you end up with a kitten anyhow?”

You huff at the memory. “Found her on the side of the road, I think someone dumped her.”

“God, that’s terrible. Why would anyone do something like that? Who just dumped a living animal in the middle of the road?” He shakes his head as he grumbles angrily. He strokes the kitten in a softer manner, expressing his sympathy for the little animal.

You're stewing in your own irritation at the thought. “Some jackass.”

The conversation seems to grow quiet, with the only noise being the kitten’s contented purrs. “She's a lucky kitty is what she is, havin’ two special girls lookin’ after her.” He murmurs, leaning in to tickle the small kitten under the chin with a chuckle.

“I never took you for a cat man, hell—you're looking like such a softie right now,” you tease.

“It's the one thing you never really knew then, right?” The kitten rolls on its back, purring as it scratches itself on the soft creamy carpet. “I bet you would’ve known all my soft spots had things been different back then.”

A sombre mood falls between the two. “Maybe so..”

Joel turns away with a regretful look in his eyes, it's a painful truth, and one the pair had both seemed to accept. Despite the way the two had seemed to adapt to the co-parenting situation.. They're both reminded every single day since their split of what could have been.

“Yeah.. maybe so.” He lets out a sigh, watching as the small kitten runs off, and he's left kneeling on the floor as he watches after it. He doesn't really know what to say.. And he's not sure you do either, it’s awkward to have these quiet moments between them.

“You know.. Sarah told me you went on a date last week.” You try to sound as encouraging as possible, but even as your heart cracks, it seems to break the silence brewing between you. And honestly, you’re nosey.

His face seems to redden at your playful accusation. “Damn.. she really has no filter, does she?” An awkward chuckle follows as he lets out a small groan and his knees crack as he stands up off the floor. As his gaze meets your own again, he wonders how you'll take the news. If he’s lucky, you’ll be jealous.

“She's a smart kid.. observant.” A small moment of silence briefs the conversation before you can stop yourself from asking.. “How was it? The date I mean.”

“That she is..” Joel murmurs before adding reluctantly. “The date was just.. Not a good fit. It didn't go well.” He shrugs, but you knew it would've been a massive blow to his self esteem. “I don't know why I tried… just thought.. maybe..” He rubs the back of his head and chuckles anxiously as he trails off.

It seems his self esteem did take quite the blow.

“Don't be so hard on yourself now, you're a catch, and any good woman will see that.”

Joel’s eyes narrow into a frown. “I'm hardly a catch.. Let's be real, I work too much.” He pauses. “Maybe I'm still caught up on..” He catches himself before he admits it..

Your ears perk at this. “Who doesn't love a hardworking man.” You tease lightly.

He manages a smile at your teasing. “I’m not a catch.. this..” He gestures to himself pitifully. “Is not a catch. Truth be told I’m.. I'm still pretty caught up on you and I'm not even ashamed to say it.”

“Hell—why?” Is all you manage to ask in a stutter.

“Because..” He lets out a frustrated noise and scratches his head anxiously. “Because I should have fought for you, I should have tried harder. You were everything I wanted. Still are.. Honestly.” His tone takes a solemn tone. “That doesn't just go away, all of those feelings.”

“You're right.. They don't just go away.” Your agreement to his statement has him wondering, his eyes searching your face for any sliver of teasing.

“So.. what does that mean? If I was to say.. If I was to ask something stupid.. Would you be angry?”

You're a little confused by his sudden bashfulness. “That depends on what you're asking.”

“Hypothetically..” He starts. “If I were to ask you out on a date, for old times sake..” He trails off and doesnt look back at you, there's a pregnant silence between you both..

“You want to take me on a date?” You ask in confusion.

He clears his throat and looks up to you, his eyes shifting around the room. “Is that a stupid question?”

“Well.. how about you ask me on a real date and maybe… I’ll say yes..”

His head spins in a daze, his heart doubles in size as he realises how much he wants this. “...are you serious?”

You simply nod, waiting for him to ask you on a date properly.

He's nervous, shifting from foot to foot, as if this was the hardest thing he's ever had to ask. “Okay then..” He mumbles to himself, clearing his throat, trying to steady his voice. “Would you care to.. Join me for a dinner date.. at my place?”

He actually asked..

“I would be happy to join you for dinner, Joel.”

It seems as if he's having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that you actually accepted. Even though it's what he wanted, needed.. He had somehow still expected you to decline. The look in your eye contractics his anxiety, though.

“You sure?” He asked, insecurity evident in his shallow voice. “I mean, you still remember how much I work, right? I have to finish this job for a client, he's on my ass about it, keeps asking me when I'm gonna be finished, but I told him I'm on track. Gonna put in some big hours to get this done.”

How could you forget, it was the reason you split all those years ago. His work was all consuming.

Your heart aches at his attempt to push you away–to take your pending rejection on the chin. “How about you let me know when you're free and you can cook for me, hm?”

The offer was flexible, giving him a chance to relieve himself of the pressure and try to find a day that works for you both.

Joel seemed to appreciate the offer, and his face visibly relaxed. “That sounds perfect, as soon as this project is done, and this client is off my ass, then we’ll figure out our date.”

“Sounds great, just send me a text and let me know, yeah?” You smile and tuck your phone into your jean pocket.

“Count on it.” He spoke with such promise it was hard not to get excited about what was to come.. Maybe they could rekindle what they once had. “I'll talk to you later then?” He takes a step towards the front door, his phone rings loudly, you assume it's a client of his.

“Yeah, we’ll talk later..”

As you close the door, it takes a moment to process what had just happened. A stupidly big smile resides on your lips, giddy with excitement, the disbelief that this is happening. Joel doesn’t text till late, but you’re ecstatic that he did get into contact about something other than who has custody of Sarah for the weekend.

Joel Miller 😉 10:45 pm

Hey, I'm sorry it's late, I just wanted to catch up. How's this weekend sound to you? For our date..

You. 10:47 pm

No sweat. What time were you thinking?

Joel Miller 😉 10:50 pm

Hoping to see you around 7. I'll cook dinner and we can just hang out. Unless you wanted to do something else?

You. 10:52 pm

No. it sounds perfect. 7 works for me.

Joel Miller 😉 10:53 pm

Great.. See you at 7 then.. Saturday..

You. 10:53 pm

Great! See you then handsome. 😉

Joel Miller 😉 10:58 pm

See you, beautiful. 😜😏😊

You can't help but laugh at the emojis Joel sent; he was such an old man that didn't understand a damn thing about technology, sure he was trying, but it seemed to get the better of him.

The week is slow and miserable, with your time off work and Sarah at school, you're not sure what to do with yourself for many hours of the days that slowly pass on by. You spend a lot of time reading your books that had sat and collected many layers of dust on the bookshelf in your living room, even taking your little kitten, angel, for walks on a small leash.

You find that as you become moderately okay with being alone, and in the company of naught but a small kitten, time seems to pass by much quicker than it did.

You'd been doting on what you'd wear all week–hell, you were still trying not to think too much about it. Choosing a simple lavender sundress, it was far too hot to wear anything that would stick to your skin. And whatever sin you’ve commited by wearing matching lavender lingerie is no one's business but your own.. Joel wouldn't know anyway.

It couldn't hurt to hope, right? It had been years since you been laid.

“God what the hell is wrong with me?” You murmur to yourself, one hand desperately clutching onto a bottle of red wine, as if you couldn't make it any more awkward. It's 6:50 pm. But you couldn't bare to sit across the damned street in your car a moment longer, your heart ager and anxiety running wild.

Knock, knock. Your hand raps on the hardwood door twice, hands shaking from being so anxious.

As the door opens, Joel grins. “Hey.. you're early.” Taking in his appearance, you can't help but swallow the saliva that had built up in the few seconds you’d spent greedily staring at him. Hell— it was only a brown cotton shirt and a pair of jeans, but he looked incredible.

“I know.. I hope that's okay.” His own eyes take a moment to appreciate your outfit, the perfectly fitting seam of lavender purple that fits snug around your breasts.

“Totally fine, I’m ready in here.. I made you something special.” The grin on his face is cheeky and he takes the bottle of wine from your trembling hands and opens the door wider for you to enter. “Come on in.”

He has absolutely outdone himself, it seemed Joel had managed to clean the entire house in the week coming up to this evening. The house is cleaner than it's ever been, his kitchen is full of colour of fruits and a wonderful aroma swirls around as you walk through the hallway. The counter is a little cluttered with spices and a half drunken can of beer.

“You've absolutely outdone yourself joel.” The compliment seemed to naturally expel from your lips, seeing how he had set the dining table up, in the middle was a simple summer salad and two wine glasses, as if he knew you'd be bringing the wine..

“I would be a terrible host if I didn't have something special in store for you..” As he trails off, the sound of a timer from the kitchen buzzes, and Joel rubs his hands together. “Here, why won't you take a seat?” He pulls the chair out, waiting for you to take the offer, of course you accept, taking a seat and he tucks your chair in.

“Be back in a moment with the food, make yourself comfortable.” The smell is absolutely incredible as Joel steps back out of the kitchen and sets a steaming pan of hot pasta right in front of you, sitting on the seat across from you.

“Jesus, how in the world? I remember all those years ago you couldn't even seem to grasp the concept of avocado toast.”

Joel laughs halfheartedly at your comment. “I wasn't much of a cook back then was I? Always relying on you to use your magic in the kitchen.” He grasps the wine and opens the bottle, pouring you a generous glass. “The fact that you remember that is pretty impressive though. That had to be what.. five or six years ago?”

You can't help but feel embarrassed to be caught out. “I guess I have a knack for remembering things, god.. Sarah would have been barely five back then..”

When you split..

Joel senses the tension in your voice, and serves himself some wine, taking a small sip. “Yeah, she was pretty young back then. It seems like only yesterday that she was a baby..” He takes a small pause as he reminisces. “I always liked when you carried her around in that sling you had for her. Never really understood why you didn't just use a pram..the sling seemed like much more work.”

You let out a small laugh. “I just liked having her close to me, and I hated those goddamn prams so much. I could never figure out how to use the stupid things.”

“Yeah, they were kinda bulky.. I never liked them much either, honestly. Still.. You'd spend like an hour just letting her nap on your chest, you would just carry her around the house.” He lifts the wine glass, his cheeks bare a resemblance to the dark red wine. “I always thought it was kinda adorable.”

The thought makes you stop and think, lifting the glass up to your lips to take a tentative sip. “Do you ever wish we could have a do over?”

He swallows the small amount of wine in his mouth, the smile that was on his face slowly fades. He never thought they would ever speak of this, of their past. He held a lot of guilt, that they fell apart because of him, he was the one who ruined a good thing. Now.. six years later, he had a chance to mend things, maybe even create something new between the two. “Every day.”

The silence hangs in the air between them for a few moments.. “Well.. either way. Sarah turned out wonderful, and that is something we both ought to be proud of.” Your hand meets his own for a brief moment.

Joel can't help but nod in agreement. Sarah was kind, intelligent, thoughtful and empathetic. He couldn't help but feel like Sarah was turning out more like you than him, and he was grateful for it. “But still, I can't help but want.. I don't want a do-over. What we had was good until I screwed it up, I just wish there was some way I could make up for that.”

“Hey—come on now.. You were working overtime back then..trying to keep our heads above water. I didn't.. I didn't understand the sacrifice you were making for our family back then.. You sacrificed a lot, joel..”

Joel looks up at you in surprise when you assure him of his goodwill. In a sense, he's grateful you're defending him, but you’ve always been too kind about the past, too forgiving, he doesn't know if he deserves it. “Yeah I was working a tonne of overtime.. I was trying to save up for a house, I wanted to take care of you both.. Guess it got out of hand.”

You can't help but feel a sense of nostalgia as you look around the house that you both raised Sarah in for the first five years of her life.. “You did it Joel, you got the house and.. Now you're starting up your own business. You've come a long way.”

“Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it, I missed out on a lot of Sarah's younger years in the process… it's not time that I can get back.. and I know it was my own doing.”

“That was your sacrifice.. And it was so she could have a good childhood. That in itself makes you an incredible father. She knows what you did for us, for her, and she loves you.”

Joel knew that much was true, he concedes this as the truth. He couldn't deny that he had an incredible relationship with his daughter. There were many things joel regretted in his life and from the past, but he couldn't recall a single moment of regret when it came to how he chose to raise Sarah.

“I think we're well overdue for some more wine, wouldn't you say?” You grin, nodding toward the bottle, and with a small smirk, Joel complies, filling your glass half full and his own the same.

“That may be true,” he replies playfully. “But I'm still gonna need you to take it easy. I'm not prepared for what you'll be like once you're tipsy.”

“I'll be on my best behaviour.” You grin, almost too mischievously.

“I'm not believing that for a single second. I know you.. as soon as the wine hits, you’re gonna lose your inhibitions and start trying to charm me.”

Rolling your eyes is an appropriate response. “As if I need to try to charm you, Joel Miller.”

“See?” He chuckles, “even now, you're flirting with me.”

You are amused by his tone and can't help but be a smartass. “Hey—this is a date.. Isn't it?”

With genuine amusement in his tone, he laughs. “Well, I suppose it is. But you can't deny that if I keep pouring you this wine, you wont end up in my lap within the half hour?”

“Pour me another glass and find out.” You challenge, setting the now empty glass in front of him.

He raises an eyebrow, but pours you a third glass of wine, handing the glass back to you. “Here you go.” He wonders if he'll be right in his prediction.

You hold the glass up and take a sip, eyes closing momentarily as the warmth slides straight down to your stomach. Silently thanking him.

Joel leans back into his chair, after topping up his own glass that wasn't quite empty yet, watching you with a brightness in his eyes. “You know, even though we haven't been an actual couple in half a decade, it's still nice to be having one of these again.. as strange as that sounds.”

With a raised eyebrow and amusement in your tone. “I dont think its strange at all, I think it's wonderful.”

He hums in response, finally digging into the pasta that had been sitting there since he served it steaming hot off the stove, you follow in tow, deciding that your stomach has somehow made room for the deliciously smelling creamy pasta. You can't help but groan in delight as you chew the creamy pasta. “Fucking delicious.” You mutter.

As the two of you decide to eat, Joel notes that you’re out of wine… “I'll get another bottle.” You insist, seeing that he's digging into his dinner.

You know your way around the kitchen you'd spent years living in, reaching upward for the wine cupboard, it seems you can't quite reach, whispering to yourself.. “Goddamnit.” You don’t realise you’ve been staring at the cupboard for a few minutes until you hear him.

“Having some trouble?” You don't have the nerve to turn around at how husky his voice sounds. He decided to take advantage of the fact that he had disarmed you with his voice alone, and slips up behind you, his chest flush against your back. He doesn't bother to help you reach the wine, instead he wraps his arms around your waist.

You can't help but lean backwards into him, closing your eyes as you lean your head backward into his shoulder. Your heart skips at the sensation of him pulled taut against you, it had been too long since he held you like this.

His hand caresses the side of your neck, and he whispers softly into your ear. “How's the wine treating you baby? Seems like your skin is a little warm..” He teased boldly.

“Who said it's got anything to do with the wine? My handsome ex husband is holding me— I think that calls for some mandatory blushing, does it not?”

Joel chuckles and squeezes you tighter around your hips, his body pressing against yours firmly, your hips pressed against the bench. “Ex-husband… is that what I am to you now?” He asked, smirking.

You can't help but laugh breathlessly. “Legally, yes.”

“Legally, maybe,” he replies, his smirk broadening. “But in my eyes.. Who you truly belong to is not a matter of legality..” He leans in and whispers softly into your ear, his lips tickle the skin. “Just a matter of heart..”

You shudder as his warm breath warms your ears. “Joel Miller, the romantic.”

“What can I say, you bring out the best in me.” He replies softly, lips against your neck, his voice carries a seductive undertone. One hand slides up your arms and he grabs you to spin you around, his eyes boring into you as your back is pushed against the counter, you’re forced to meet his gaze as his hand grips the nape of your neck. “Do you want to know what I really think about you?”

His sudden manoeuvre has her shocked into near silence. “What do you think of me Joel?”

He hesitates, trying to find the right words. He can't mess this up, not with your large and vulnerable eyes watching him. “You're beautiful,” he praised softly. “You have the most kind-hearted soul I've ever known.. You're a wonderful mother… and you’ll be the only one I’ll ever truly want..”

Maybe the wine helped him be bold enough to be truthful in this moment, or oversharing. He felt like this might be the only chance he might have.

“Why did it take half a bottle of wine for you to tell me all this?” You mumble.

Joel goes quiet. He can't help but stare down at you, the smirk on his lips fades, you'd always been able to see through him. “I was scared,” a note of humility in his voice. “Scared that once you knew, you wouldn't want to look at me again. I always thought you were out of my league, ya know? I didn't deserve someone like you…still don't know if I do.”

His self depreciation was never something you would come to accept. “Don't talk like that, Jesus Joel. You really have no idea how much I love you, do you?”

“How can you still love me?” He asks, although he's almost afraid of the answer you'll give. “I hurt you, I let myself drift so far from what mattered..”

“Joel… you've done nothing that isn't worth forgiving,” you promise softly.

Joel can't help himself as he pulls you against him, chest to chest. He holds you tightly, as if it might be the last time…”But that's the problem,” he said softly. “Not that what I did isn’t forgivable…but that it didn't need to happen in the first place. It hurts me just thinking about how much I lost sight of things, but it can't have been worse than how much I must've hurt you…”

Your hands have a mind of their own as they cup his cheeks, making him look down at you. “Now you listen to me, okay? I love you. Things were not easy for us back then.. We were young parents and struggling to pay the bills, parenthood hit us fucking hard and we didnt make it..” You sigh, your eyes full of love and vulnerability. “Hell—I don't even remember half of it… but were here now, we have a chance to make things better than they were, we can start new.”

He nods as he rests his forehead against your own, a small smile on his lips. You easily wipe away any insecurity and self guilt he held for their split. You were right, of course. This wasn't the time to dwell on the past, on what could've been, not when the two of you were here… now, with a brand new start. “Let's try again, huh?” He asks in a low whisper.

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you nod against his own warm skin. “Let's try again…”

His hands are warm as they caress your cheeks, he pulls you into him for a kiss, lips meeting and you're flooded with emotion, all the doubt and uncertainty you both held washed away as soon as your lips connected. The bittersweet aftertaste of wine lingers on your warm lips. He struggled to pull away from you, but he looked down at your loved filled eyes, gazing softly up at him. “God, I've missed that.” He whispers softly.

He brushes a handful of strands of loose hair out of your face, looking down at you, you note his pupils are dilated. “You still take my breath away,” he laughs softly, caressing your cheek.

You flush at his praise. “Trying to get in my good books already?”

He was definitely trying. “You can't fault me for trying, I could really use some brownie points right now, ya know?”

Laughing at his sense of humour, you roll your eyes. “You're a crooked man Joel, and I love it.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?” An amused tone in his voice, his body pressing against your own. He leans down to kiss you again softly, his hands caressing your waist and letting his fingers trail up the side of your torso.

“Of course it's a compliment—other men have their heads on straight and they are just…weird. You're a little crooked, a little weird, and I like that..”

The way you accept his flaws leaves him more in awe of you, he can't complain at how endearing you find his oddities. “And so youre saying it's a good thing that I'm a little unhinged at times?” He chuckles, reaching up under your chin to trace small shapes on the soft skin.

You have a little mischief twinkling in your eyes.. “Oh you know—when you get all angry and protective. Definitely crooked, but so sexy.”

“You find it hot when I get territorial over you?” He couldn't help but laugh at her admission.

The wine flows through you, giving you a sense of boldness. You run a hand down his chest, manicured fingers tickling him through the brown cotton shirt. “Do you remember that time I was on a date with that jackass, I was drunk outta my mind—”

He scowls at the memory of that night, you, his ex-wife on a date with some chump named James. The man had tried to take you home, even though you were inebriated. “Yeah, I do,” he replied with a possessive tone to his voice. “You were wasted, couldn't even walk straight.. But I knew what that animal was thinking, I could see the way he looked at you.”

“All I could remember was how infuriated you were, the sexiest thing I'd ever seen..” Your eyes draw him in, batting your lashes at him.

Joel smirks, a light blush spreading from his neck up his cheeks, to his ears from your comment. “You thought it was sexy huh? I thought I'd lost my shit and went a little overboard..”

You can only shrug, unbothered by his reaction at that time. “Oh—maybe you did, I mean you did beat him to a pulp in that forsaken carpark, didn’t you baby? All for me.”

“That prick needed his ass kicked either way,” he growls. “There was no way I was letting him have you.. Drunk or not, that man crossed a line, and I’d do it all over again.”

Your heart doubles in size, and you can feel your knees weakening. “You'd do it all over again?”

He doesn't hesitate. “I'd do it a thousand times over.. At that moment.. in my mind, you were still my girl, being hit on by some creep. And I wasn't going to let him take you away from me.” He pauses, wondering if his explanation sounded too crazy. “You still meant alot to me.. Even after we split.. You always have.”

You run a finger down his cheek, the coarse hairs of his beard make a sound that sends a tingle down your spine. “What I wouldn't do to see that side of you again.”

Joel tilts his head slightly and takes a moment to ponder your comment. He was surprised to hear you admit how much you loved this dominant and possessive side of him. “That side of me.. You want to see it again, cause I can make it happen, baby girl. Just say the words.”

You couldn't help the way you trembled, sure that the only thing keeping you up right was Joel's hips pressing against your own, back digging into the bench. “Please,” you beg pathetically. His hand reaches up to your neck, holding you by the neck, forcing you to look up at him. He applies a small amount of pressure that has you whimpering.

The way you melt under his possessive gesture was enough for him to feel confident that this side of him was still within reach and you loved it. He leans closer to you and kisses you again, this time more forcefully. He lets his fingers dig into your soft flesh, squeezing firmly while knowing it's not causing you pain or discomfort.

Hearing your squeaking moans, and the way your body seems to relax into him as he takes control of you.. He takes this as motivation to move his lips against yours with a different kind of hunger. Feeding into the darker side of himself, trying to recapture that long-lost side of him that he's lost after letting you walk out of his life.

But he wouldn't let you go, no, not this time. He had his fingers digging into your flesh and his lips moving against yours with so much force, he shoves his tongue into your mouth..

His free hand wanders along your body, feeling the warmth of the wine and from the heat of his touch, your body reacting exactly how it used to, as if no time has passed at all. His hand gropes your breast roughly, squeezing and slipping past the two layers of fabric. He pulls away from your lips, eyes darkening. “Wearing a lace bra just for me, huh baby? Bet you've got a matching set on, don't you?” He growls.

“Y–Yes..” A feeble moan emits from your lips, smothered in his spit. The thought drives him wild, and slides down the straps to your dress and takes in the lavender lace bra you brought specially for tonight. “Fuck, you’re a naughty girl aren’t you?”

When you don't respond, he grabs at your breasts roughly, grasping the soft flesh between his calloused fingers, pinching your nipples harshly, making you cry out in pleasure, it was a sensitive spot for you, one that Joel remembered well.

He leans down, greedily sucking all the sweat off your warm skin, licking and nipping, his teeth biting down into the flesh of your neck, leaving an immediate mark, claiming his stake on you. You were his..

His lips messily kissed your breasts, tongue finally meeting the nipple where he suckled harshly, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “Do you remember when you were pregnant? Let me drink your milk straight from the source, didn’t you baby? Fuck.. what I wouldn’t give to do that again,” he whimpers against your skin.

Your heart races, running your fingers through his dark hair. He spends his time at your breasts, alternating pleasuring the two, making sure they’re both equally as tended to as the other. “Tits are so fucking perfect baby.” He praises.

His greedy hands trail down your body, the fabric of your dress bunching at his fingers, as he slides them down your legs, he’s on his knees.. face to face with the matching lavender lace panty that covers your pussy. An involuntary moan leaves his lips, he can’t tear his eyes away at the large sopping wet patch in the middle of your panties. “Fucking hell, I can smell your need, you know that?”

Your legs tremble at his sudden growl, he could smell her arousal? The thought embarrassed her. The thought didn’t stay long in her head, he presses his face into your cunt with the panties still on, moaning against you. His large nose bumping your swollen clit through the material, and you let out a whine and curl your fingers through his hair. “Please Joel.. I need more.”

He ignores your pleas for more, licking and sucking you through your panties, he can taste you through them, he’s like an animal being teased through a cage, and he’s painfully hard, teasing the both of you with his devilish antics.

“Fuck Joel! Please!” You beg a little louder, crying out as she tugs on his hair.

Without another moment passing, his thick fingers tear the lace in half, exposing your mound. You didn’t shave, your pubic hair was trimmed but still bush enough for Joel to dive into. His mouth watered, he had always had a preference for hair down there, he’d seen it in pornography magazines growing up, and he fucking desired it ever since.

Women these days are all about shaving, being bare and having brazilians.

Fuck that. This is what Joel needed.

“Fucking hell baby you’re gonna kill me.” He groaned into your cunt. Diving face first, his arms wrap around your ass and pull you tight, his face buried into your cunt as far as he could go.

You stumble and lift one leg over his shoulder, trying to support yourself a little more. It feels impossible though, the way Joel’s tongue dives into your cunt, lapping at the juices you’re giving him, pushing his tongue as far into your hole as he can reach. His hawkish nose presses into your clit and you feel your legs trembling, like you’re about to topple over.

“Joel..” you warn breathlessly. You’re close, so fucking close.

“Cum for me baby. Fuck.. please.” Suddenly he was the one begging, on his knees lapping at your cunt, whining against you. Feeling him beg against you was all it took for you to come undone.. your legs buckle and you tremble above him, clutching onto his shoulder, as you cry out, your clit tingles with pleasure as Joel slowly rolls his tongue against it, trying to string out your orgasm.

He laps you up, all of you, not letting a single drop go to waste, his eyes are black with desire and his face is glistening with you, smeared all over his face, finally, he rises to his feet. “Turn around baby girl.” He orders, his voice husky from your slick.

You can do nothing but comply, he shoves you against the counter, your hips against the cold wood. You can hear him, his breaths are quick, he’s frantically unbuckling his belt, tying the brown leather around your wrists..

You feel his hard cock against your ass, and your eyes widen, forgetting how big he was, did he get bigger?

With one hand he pushes you down onto the bench so you’re lying, face down. “That’s it angel. You’re so fucking sweet, aren’t you baby?” He praises senselessly, the swollen tip of his cock meets your hole and you squeak out, he stretches you, beyond what you ever remembered. “J-Joel.” You whine and inhale sharply, face still pressed against the cold countertop, arms bound behind your back and his throbbing thick cock pushing inside of you, you’re helpless, completely at his mercy and you fucking love it.

Your cunt can testify the fact, it’s dripping, all over Joel, he pushes himself into the hilt of you and groans loudly, a loud grunt leaving his lips. One hand holds you flat against the counter, the other holds your bound arms at his chest.

He slowly starts to thrust, legs quaking with desire, he knows he won’t last long, fuck, he’s never had a pussy so perfect, not after you, all he knows is the warmth of you, your perfectly tight hole, sucking him in deeper.

Your moans are loud, but muffled by your cheeks squished against the counter, you can almost feel him in your ribs, with every thrust it feels like you’re running out of oxygen. Strangled gasps leave your lips as your pussy clenches around him, threatening to spill over a second time..

Joel can feel it, the way you grip him, he knows he won’t last, he grunts as he presses himself flush against you, your arms behind your back hinder his need to be closer to you, but this way.. he wraps his hand around your neck, bringing you upright, flush to his chest.

“Fuck, that’s it baby.” He growls, his cock pummels into you mercilessly, and now you’re free to cry out as loud as you can.

“Joel.. Joel.. I’m.. I..” you stutter, in between moans, your cunt clenching around him. You tense up as you orgasm a second time, creaming all over his throbbing cock.

He brings you totally upright, his hand tightening around your throat. “Fuck baby.. I’m gonna cum.. fill this perfect pussy up.” He whimpered into your ear, biting down on your neck.

You can feel him tensing, seconds later.. heavy and warm ropes of his cum spurt so far into your womb you whimper, knowing that he’s sure to get you knocked up.. again. He lets out the most obnoxious grunting as he pants heavily into your ears.

“Joel.. fuck I’m.. not on birth control.” You whimper. He keeps his cock inside of you, until he softens and pulls out of you, untying the belt that restrained your hands, as your hands fall limply by your sides, he kisses your shoulders, knowing there’s ought to be an ache.

“Good. Maybe we can have a do over after all, hm?” He murmurs softly, kissing the back of your neck. His hands find their way down to your stomach, caressing it softly. “Wouldn’t hurt to have just one more.. would it?”

After all, Joel Miller was a possessive man, a greedy man. You would bare as many children as he wished, because you weren’t ever going anywhere again. You were his.

“Might as well marry me again while you’re at it.” You tease breathlessly.

He hums against your skin, his forehead resting on the back of your shoulder. “Already thinkin’ bout it baby.”

Because Joel Miller wouldn’t let you get away, not this time.

#young Joel miller #hbo Joel miller #Joel miller smut #Pedro pascal #Joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #Joel miller x you #Joel miller #the last of us

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA For ruining a coworker's "business opportunity?"

For a bit of context this happened in the Summer of 2020. Also I'll be using the term MLM frequently and in this case it means "multi-level marketing" so comapanies like Avon, Tupperware, Monat, Vector-Cutco, LuLaRoe, etc. A

So I have this coworker let's call her T and in July of 2020 I got a FB message from her that said "Hey girl, so I recently started my own business and I thought you would be the perfect candidate to join my team! We'll be selling cooking and bakeware which should be right up your alley given how much you love to bake! So what do you say are you ready to join my team and leave [place of employment] behind?" I was immediately suspicious about the uncharacteristic tone of her message and asked her "What is the company name?" And she responded with "Pampered Chef." (an MLM). For the record, I am extremely anti-MLM, and know from following several anti-MLM YouTubers that hardly anyone makes any kind of money in those comapanies. So I politely declined her offer. And she immediately said "But you would be perfect! It would be just like when you sold Girl Scout cookies when you were a kid! I need you to join my team!" And I told her "I'm not interested in selling bakeware for an MLM. So my answer is still no." (Also bold of her to assume I did any of the cookie selling when I was in Girl Scouts, I gave thr forms to my parents and they did the bulk of the work).

I thought that was the end of it until I got an invite to an IN-PERSON (remember this was July 2020) Pampered Chef party at her house that at that point 40 people had RSVP'd to. I declined again snd blocked the group and a few days later I got another invite which I again declined. And the process repeated several more times. One day I got one at work within earshot of the manager's office and loudly said "Oh my GOD T I'm not going to your Pampered Chef house party in the middle of a pandemic!" Which got the manager's attention (we had already had one incident where an associate's wedding turned into a super-spreader event where 20 other associates ended up missing work due to Covid) and he asked me what was going on. And me being fed up with the near constant harassment, she messaged me several times a week and even went to my dad about it (he worked at the same store we did), I told him everything. And the following day T announced on Facebook "Unfortunately due to the current state of things, I regretfully have to cancel the in-house Pampered Chef party." She had also messaged me "thanks to you I can't hold my party or recruit people from work. Why did you tell management about it?" And I told her I was fed up with the constant harassment and didn’t see any other way of making it stop. I ended up blocking T after that. And thought it was the end of it.

Until her husband messaged me on FB several weeks later "Hi, I'm [so-so] T's husband, she asked me to reach out to you on her behalf to ask you if you would be interested in joining her team at Scentsy (another MLM that sells scented wax melts) she can't seem to message you for some reason." And I responded "Sir, with all due respect I've already had to threaten to file a harassment grievance against T if she continues to try and recruit me for her "businesses." My answer is still no and I will ask you to never contact me about this again otherwise I will go through with my threat." He apologized and I never heard from him again. T on the other hand makes snide remarks about how I ruined her businesses every time we happen to be on the same shift. And how I didn't have to be a narc and go to management about it and I should have just let it be. So AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[winchesterwild78]

Chance Meeting

This is my first ever fan fiction. I adore Jensen Ackles and have no hate towards his family. In this he’s single. I’m not sure exactly how to do this so any suggestions or feedback is appreciated. Please be kind and all mistakes are my own.

Please don’t take my work. 18+ Only!

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut (later on), Jensen being a sweetheart

———————————————————————

You guess in order to tell your story you have to start when you and Jensen first met. It was a chilly day in October. You were so excited about your first ever Supernatural Convention. You had been a fan of the show since it started and watched every single episode, several times over. Like everyone else, you have your favorites and of course like everyone your least favorite being the very last episode.

Anyway, you’re rambling. You tend to do that when you think back on moments where your world turned upside down. Like you said before, this was your first convention. You’ve seen videos on YouTube, Instagram, Facebook and TikTok, but nothing could have prepared you for being there in person.

You spent the money for the gold admission, because hey go big or go home, right? You had every outfit picked out for each photo op and panel you knew you were going to attend. You had paid for single photo ops of Misha, Jared, and of course the green eyed angel himself, Jensen. You’ve always been a “Dean” girl, and a fan of Jensen. Between his shows, movies and his music. Damn is he a talented man. You also had a photo op for Jared, Jensen and Misha. *swoon* The photo ops were all scheduled for Saturday as were most of the panels. You didn’t know exactly what to expect for Friday, but the air was electrified with anticipation, excitement and curiosity. You opted to stay at the hotel that was hosting the convention because you seriously didn’t want to have to Uber back and forth. Plus you wanted to come and go when you got tired or needed a break you’d head to your room then back down again.

You finally arrived at the check in desk and got my room key. The front desk clerk was super nice but gave you a weird smile and wink when she told you your room and floor. “You’re on the 7th floor, room 714” *grin and wink* Um, thanks you said as you grabbed the key and your stuff. As you waited for the elevator you heard some fans talking about the actors who were already there. One of them asked about Jared, Jensen and Misha. The first girl who was obviously a Dean girl by the look of her outfit said they don’t get there until late tonight so they shouldn’t expect to see them at all today. You laughed at the disappointment on their faces and put in your earbuds and turned on Radio Company to just relax. Something about Jensen’s voice just made you relaxed. Of course one of your favorite songs started right up and you couldn’t help but sing along. “Ain’t No Tellin” was playing as the elevator opened up.

*Ding* went the elevator and you stepped in. You couldn’t believe you were alone in the elevator. Or so you thought. You must have missed the man standing in the corner. In your defense he had on a dark pullover and a baseball cap. You continued singing this time louder because again, you thought you were alone. Then there was a tap on your shoulder and you screamed. The man standing in the corner threw his hands up apologizing for scaring you. It was then you realized you knew that voice. Oh my god! It was Jensen Ackles!! You pulled your earbuds out and told him you were sorry you screamed and you didn’t see him there. He smirked that half cocked smirk and said I figured since you started singing louder once you got in. Your face instantly turned three shades of red. He extended his hand and said “Hi, I’m Jensen, and you are?” You take his strong calloused hand in yours trying not to melt and trying to remember your name. Oh my god, my name, what’s my name?!?!? His beautiful green eyes staring straight into your soul. You felt his thumb rub circles on your hand and you suddenly remembered how to speak. You smile brightly with your y/c eyes and finally say My name is y/n, nice to meet you. Your hands held on just a few seconds longer before you both pulled away. Well nice to meet you y/n I hope you have a great time this weekend and I get to see you again soon. Yeah, thanks you too is all you could say with a smile.

The elevator stopped on floor 7 and you stepped out looking at the signs on the wall for which direction your room was in. You were talking to yourself when you heard that honey whiskey voice in your ear “Find your room yet?” His warm breath was on your ear and neck and it sent shivers down your spine. You spin around and you realize just how close you two really are. Damn his eyes are beautiful you think to yourself and those plump lips. Mmm I could get drunk off of those you thought. You manage to whisper out “yeah, I’m in 714, it’s this way.” Jensen smiles and nods as you walk away.

You make it to your room and go around checking everything before you start to unpack. You’re halfway through unpacking when there is a knock at your door. You sigh walk over and look out the peephole and see Jensen standing there with a grin on his face. You start to panic thinking you did something wrong. With a deep breath you open the door and smile. “Jensen, what are you doing here?” He looked at you smiled and asked if he could come in for a minute. You step aside and let him in before closing the door and locking it. This was a habit you picked up long ago being single and living alone. He came in and took a seat at the foot of the bed. You stood near the door trying to figure out what was going on. The silence seemed to go on for hours, but it was really seconds. Jensen told you he really enjoyed hearing you sing and he wanted to know if you would join everyone tonight for the Karaoke party and maybe sing something with him. I’m sorry what? Was all you could say. He chuckled and said it again. I don’t really like singing in front of people, if I knew anyone was on the elevator I wouldn’t have sang. You said and shyly smile at him. He stood up and took your hands in his. Y/N, please consider coming. I really would love to sing just one song with you. You look up into his emerald green eyes and look away. You take your hands out of his and sit in the chair at the desk.

“Why” you ask him in a very low voice. Why would you want me to sing with you. I’m nobody. Hell I don’t even look like the right type of woman to be standing next to you. I’m not a model, I have extra weight every where, stretch marks and I love chocolate. I don’t think it’s a good idea. Jensen sighed and bent down in front of you taking your hands again. Y/N please look at me. He spoke softly this time. You could smell his woodsy cologne and the mint gum he was chewing and it drove you wild. God he smelt like heaven and every time he touched you it was like electricity shooting through you. You kept your head down to hide the tears that pricked your eyes. You’ve never been beautiful in the eyes of the world and you’ve always carried extra weight. You’ve had your fill of insults and people judging you for your looks and you really didn’t want to stand up in front of a room full of strangers next to one of the most gorgeous men on the planet and judged. When you didn’t lift your head, Jensen slowly took his hand and placed it under your chin to lift up your face. He saw the pain in your eyes and you saw the regret and sadness in his. Hey sweetheart, don’t cry. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to push or upset you. If you don’t want to I’m okay with it. I don’t want you to feel pressured. I just wanted the world to hear that beautiful voice I heard. A single tear left your eye and you felt his thumb wipe it away. You looked in his eyes and you have no idea what or why, but you both started to move towards each other. Your lips were inches from his and he smiled. Jensen whispered “can I kiss you” and you nodded. He placed a sweet kiss on your lips then pulled away. You looked at him and smiled. As he walked towards the door Jensen turned around and said I hope to see you later y/n, even if you come just to enjoy the show. Then he turned around and left you standing in your room. Your head was spinning and you could feel the ghost of the kiss still on your lips.

You stood there for a few minutes trying to gather your thoughts. Did Jensen Ackles really just kiss me, and why? You had a decision to make, go to Karaoke or not. So many things running through your head. The loudest thing was how desperately you wanted to see and kiss Jensen again.

Next part coming soon

#jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles smut #supernatural convention #fluff #chance meeting

[film-in-my-soul]

a place to rest your head | 6,480 | ginnydear

Summary: “Whoa,” Bradley says, stepping into the bathroom and letting the door close. He leans back heavily against it, tilting his head to the side. “What the hell is happening here?” “Can’t you tell,” Jake starts, turning so he’s facing Bradley entirely. “Penny’s doing a new chippendales thing.” Bradley snorts, shoulders shaking slightly as he laughs. “You’re missing the bowtie.”

riding into the sunset with you | 6,736 | alecjbi

Summary: While searching through the group's old Facebook posts, Jake finds a photo of Bradley that he can't seem to get over.

Don't Stop | 7,134 | Earthangel_44 / @yikes-00

Summary: Bradley can’t think. His breathing is ragged and his skin is tight and he wants to scratch it off but he wants Jake to hold him close. He wants to bury himself into Jake’s arms and never leave but Jake won’t fucking touch him. “Jake,” Bradley’s voice is broken and Jake hushes softly. He’s still not touching Bradley. Jake opens Bradley’s door and walks Bradley into the room. “Shhh, darling,” Jake whispers. He’s surrounding Bradley again. “I’m here. Tell me your lines.” “I need you to touch me,” Bradley whispers. His eyes fall shut and his heart slams in his chest. “I need you, Jake.”

feels like the first time | 7,737 | ginnydear

Summary: “Like what you see?” Jake teases, ignoring the part of his brain that needs Bradley to say yes. Desperately wants to know that Bradley is as into this as he is. When Bradley looks up at him, hand sliding up Jake's chest, across his collarbone to cup his jaw, Jake nearly whines.

darling, you’re the one i want (in paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams) | 7,966 | cryinginthebronco / @cryinginthebronco

Summary: Jake sighs deeply for the third time in ten minutes as he’s standing in front of a mirror. “I look like an idiot,” he says finally, turning around to look at Bradley. Bradshaw laughs from where he’s sitting on their bed and looks up from the book he’s reading. When he sees the look on Jake’s face, he puts the book on the bedside table and walks over to Jake. “You look stunning as always,” he says, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his fiance’s lips.

Talk Fast | 8,094 | Thee_Maxwell

Summary: “Oh my god, I am not going to try and hook up with Hangman.” He makes the mistake of glancing over. Hangman’s still chatting with Coyote, but he’s turned to face the table. His legs are spread far more than there should be room for, and he’s got a look on his face like he’s challenging Bradley to come back. Pink tints the tops of his cheeks, and he swats at Coyote’s chest as the man laughs about something. Fuck. Okay. Maybe he’s going to try and hook up with Hangman.

Please see below for more recommendations!

find me a face that i want to hold (that i can memorize) | 8,112 | davidbyrne / @katiesharms

Summary: Jake and Bradley (re)meet at a masquerade party. Or, well, Jake meets Bradley and Bradley meets a hot stranger.

home for the holidays | 8,210 | alecjbi

Summary: “Aren’t you going home?”   “I usually just stay with Javy and his brother and their family,” Jake explained. There was some sort of a sad look in his eye, something far away, like a fresh wound that had just started to scab over.  “Mav and Ice can take care of me,” he tried. Jake just stared at him, unimpressed. “You and Mav would kill each other within a week.”

too good to be true (can't take my eyes off of you) | 8,494 | gr0gu

Summary: "I thought we were going to die," he confesses, "thank you." It comes out raw. It's silent besides the waves of the ocean and the hum of the carrier. Rooster gains the courage to look over at Jake. He's met with an impossibly close hooded gaze. Green eyes pierce his skin and make him feel like he could unravel at any moment. Jesus Christ.

Acting on your best behavior | 9,029 | miiichaaan

Summary: “You’re beautiful,” Jake whispered and stroked a finger over Bradley’s cheek. Bradley swallowed, his voice thick, “Wanna take this to bed?”

Take My Hand and Hold On Forever | 9,054 | Earthangel_44 / @yikes-00

Summary: It happens again like clockwork. Every new achievement or award that Jake gets pinned to his chest. Every time he went to Afghanistan or flew with the F-151, Jake calls Bradley. Every COMM he receives or shiny new ribbon that is placed on his chest, Jake called Bradley.

roadside assistance | 9,069 | alecjbi

Summary: Jacob Seresin was a menace. It was a fact that Bradley had long since accepted, content in the knowledge that the man would likely one day put him in his grave. If that’s how he went out, under the cocky gaze of the cowboy-- well, it wasn’t a bad way to go.

like, what up, I got a big cock | 9,707 | seresins / @lewispullsman

Summary: “Wait. Why is your callsign Rooster, anyway?” Phoenix snorts beer up her nose.

Hold on loosely | 9,754 | Earthangel_44 / @yikes-00

Summary: There is nothing Jake "Hangman" Seresin can't handle after he shot down the plane to save the day except for maybe one certain pilot with a taste for Hawaiian shirts.

coffee, pancakes for two | 10,375 | ilikeyougreenie / @buckyswolf

Summary: Bradley’s mouth goes dry at the sight of him; strong thighs encased in dark, skintight denim, chunky lace-up boots, white t-shirt, and a soft-looking leather jacket covered in patches. He’s not wearing a helmet - only a pair of aviators - and while Bradley knows he should chastise Jake for not being more careful, he’s too busy drooling over the picture he makes as he pulls up to the front of the hangar. Fuck, he wants to eat him. Or maybe just his ass. Whatever. The bike’s low, seductive rumble cuts out as Jake kills the engine, nudging the kickstand with the tip of his boot before dismounting. He pushes his glasses up into his hair, grinning at Bradley and holding his arms out in an expansive gesture. “Hey, baby. Miss me?”

In Time | 10,692 | little_passions / @littleeverydaypassions

Summary: “You said you wanted a reward.” He explained as he moved his right hand off the counter and placed it on Jake’s thigh. “It’s now or never.” Well, it seemed like Bradley had more to him than expected. Jake couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that came across his face. He loved surprises, especially when they came to him in the well-defined form of Bradley Bradshaw.

The New Revolution | 10,868 | Brenda / @brendaonao3

Summary: Jake Seresin is the biggest asshole Bradley's ever met, with a competitive streak that borders on the pathological, has no idea how to keep his goddamn mouth shut, starts shit just to watch the sparks fly, treats his body like a temple and never lets anyone forget it, runs laps around everyone up in the air (well, everyone except Mav and Phoenix) — And as God is his fucking witness, one day Bradley is going to snap and kill him.

show me again | 11,040 | dracculaura / @dracculaura

Summary: He hasn’t had a roommate on land-based assignments in years, not since flight school, so it takes him by surprise. He just isn’t used to it, not anymore. And he’s especially not used to sharing a room with fucking Bradley Bradshaw.

the way we surrender (tender, no pretense) | 12,757 | vannral / @vannral

Summary: ’”Well, Rooster, you’d better not be expectin’ any flowers, though, that’s not gonna happen.” A small, treacherous part under Bradley’s sternum falters, twists into knots. No. It’s a bad idea. You’re gonna get hurt in the long run. There’s a reason why you two are always at odds.’ In which Bradley and Jake agree to blow off steam together, all the while being in love with each other and convinced this is all they're able to have. It’s a train wreck from the start.

Slow Ride | 13,559 | Earthangel_44 / @yikes-00

Summary: “Name it, baby.” Bradley’s voice isn’t even recognizable with how low it’s dropped and Jake’s eyes dilate. The flush slowly moves below the collar of his shirt and Bradley’s eyes follow it. “We go by my rules.” Jake says back. His voice lost the authoritative bite and Bradley smirks. “Which are?” Jake swallows thickly and his gaze drags down Bradley’s body. “You have to beg to fuck me.”

Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore | 15,191 | Renai_chan

Summary: Hangman and Maverick have been getting closer these last few days, and Rooster is finding it... unsettling.

peaches and motor oil (a slice of summer sun) | 15,301 | terraces

Summary: A few years post-canon: Mav goes missing. Rooster copes. Hangman’s harder to get rid of than he expected.

And If Your Heart Surrenders | 16,661 | perishablealex / @perishablealex

Summary: Bradley is wearing his aviators and his mustache has beer foam on it. Jake reaches out and brushes his thumb tentatively over the foam, hand lingering on Bradley’s jaw. He feels Bradley smirk a bit as he reaches over to place a hand over Jake’s thigh. He leans in and Jake holds his breath, but Bradley just brushes his mustache against his cheekbone and then the shell of his ear. Bradley says it softly into Jake's ear. Mine. And Jake runs.

learning steps | 20,530 | vannral / @vannral

Summary: ”So, an instructor?” A straight hit. Bradley shifts uncomfortably on the leather seat and clears his throat. ”… Yeah.” In which Bradley becomes an instructor after the mission, Jake keeps showing up to his classes and his students are very curious about their dynamic.

Windy and Wild | 27,329 | Cristinuke / @cristinuke

Summary: Jake pushes for a reason. Bradley figures out he not only doesn't mind the reason, but actually enjoys it as well.

If you're looking for a hobby | 28,454 | NeverwinterThistle

Summary: On the first day of Maverick's new five-week intensive training programme, Hangman admits to being in love with Rooster. He doesn't seem worried about it. Neither is Rooster. Why not take what’s on offer and have some fun during downtime? Hangman’s the one who caught feelings, and that means Rooster gets to call the shots for once. This time, he’s going to be team leader. It’s just a shame no plan survives contact with the enemy.

These Gods Don't Walk | 29,130 | SaintClaire / @radpeacharbiter

Summary: Jake and Natasha are dancing, moving together in wide, easy sweeps over the wings of the plane. Whoever’s piloting doesn’t so much as wobble in the air as they cross from the tip of one wing to the other and back, over and over again. His breath punches out of his chest when Jake picks Natasha up and twirls her out, her legs sailing out into nothingness, the two of them only connected by their hands.

Drops of Jupiter (Tell Me) | 33,100 | Earthangel_44 / @yikes-00

Summary: “Do you?” Bradley counters. Jake’s face morphs into confusion. “Do you want a divorce?” Jake is quiet and the quiet is scarier than when Bradley didn’t think that Jake would take the ring from him. “I don’t know.” Jake says softly and he looks lost. He looks small and Bradley’s heart hurts in his chest. “I love you.” Bradley says breaking the silence between them and a smile twitches over Jake’s face. “Do you?”

Master Reclist · Personal Masterlist · Blog Nav.

#hangster #sereshaw #hangster reclist #top gun maverick reclist #reclist #fanfic reclist

[ingravinoveritas]

Hello there! I hope you are doing well (as well as someone who has completed watching season 2) First of all congrats on moving into a new house! I'm still having lots of Feelings™ to process after finishing the second season.. oh god the acting, the genuine emotions on the faces of both Michael and David this time around... I'm simultaneously radiating happiness and being utterly destroyed. And the increasing intimacy between them in the interviews is not helping matters either... I think (this has been marinating in my head for a while) one of the reasons they are doing this is to physically reassure each other that they are not apart, they are still a team and still on their side, because after the heart wrenching ending of the season, it would have been very hard for them to come to terms with it, as they had put their whole beings, their whole souls into playing Azi and Crowley, which might have made it difficult to draw a line where the characters ended and they begin... So the touches, their body language became a sort of coping mechanism, something which said 'hey, don't worry, I'm still here.. I have not gone away, we're still together' and this makes me wanna cry again 😭

I hope my word vomit makes an iota of sense (English is not my first language by a long shot, so) and I hope you do find some time to rest and have a warm beverage of your choice while unwinding. Stay safe and blessed!!

Hi there! Thank you so much for the congrats on my move, I truly appreciate it. I've actually had a very rough couple of days, as on top of the move, my Facebook account was hacked earlier this week, and it essentially pushed me over the edge and I was crying for much of Monday and felt like I had a crying "hangover" all day Tuesday.

You do not at all have to apologize for your Ask--your English is very good!--and I'm glad to read your thoughts as I make my way through all the Anons still residing in my inbox. Truly, we are fortunate to have GO 2 and Michael and David to focus on, as well as the abundance of interviews we've gotten after months and months of little to no content.

To start: I absolutely agree with you, re: the intimacy between Michael and David in these interviews. It's been so fascinating to see them get more flirty and touchy-feely with each progressive interview (I know we don't know the order in which they were done, but I imagine the flirting/touching increased as the day went on). And while I can definitely see them doing what you described--reassuring each other, touching and being close as a coping mechanism--my feeling is they already did all that last year, probably right after filming That Scene. (There is actually a gorgeous MS/DT fic on AO3 right now that depicts exactly that, and it's definitely worth reading.)

But in terms of all the intimacy and touching in the more recent interviews (from last month), I think what we're seeing is something else. I think Michael and David are beyond the need for reassurance because they are so comfortable with each other and know they're still together, permanently. There's no more of the uncertainty of parting ways after the promo interviews end--only the promise of seeing each other again as soon as both their lives and schedules allow it.

There have been so many moments of telling body language and touches and expressions, but if I had to pick a favorite (well, a few), one would be them walking arm-in-arm onto The One Show:

And the other would be David leaning so far over and draping his arm around Michael in the Amazon Q&A video:

...And of course (and possibly most notable), Michael and David seemingly unconsciously moving closer to each other in the TV Insider interview:

It's so telling that there is no urgency or desperateness to any of this--only comfort and very much that sense of "on our side" that you mentioned. Walking out arm-in-arm as they did in particular adds to that "us against the world" feeling and the not-so-subtle implication that while they were Michael Sheen and David Tennant on the season one press tour, here, now, they are Michael and David. Inseparable, always intertwined, and having so much more of themselves in the characters of Aziraphale and Crowley than in the first season.

So yes, everything you wrote absolutely did make sense, and I appreciate you writing in to share your thoughts with me. I have a lot more thoughts/analysis about GO season 2 still to share, which I hope to do in response to the numerous Anons still waiting in my inbox. Thanks for writing in! x

#yami-no-kokoro #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #good omens 2 #this proves that michael and david's chemistry is what made go what it was #also David calling Michael his 'wife.' again. #i've never seen david be so blatant #saying a lot by saying very little #but more and more it seems like david relies on him and trusts him #they both know exactly what they are doing #tell me again that they're not a couple #ineffable lovers #discourse #gifs by me

[after-the-end-times]

"Well, I don't buy it! What's a little distance between friends? Especially, with all this technology at our finger tips? We'll text and facetime all the time."

Trent just looks at Ted, taking in his stance of indignant outrage, before sighing so deeply.

"Ted, I'm 46 years old. I've had my fair share of friendships come and go over the years, I know how this goes. We'll text at first, individually and in the group chats, facetime if the time zones work out."

Trent's only slightly embarrassed that he's ended up pacing and gesturing wildly to accentuate his points. He stops in front of Ted, unable to keep his eyes from betraying his devastation, and continues.

"But over time you'll get caught up in your life there and we'll get caught up here, with kids, work, friends, family. Time will go on and we'll drift farther apart until our friendship is just liking each other's facebook posts and sending the occasional 'oh hey, how's everything been' texts. Ted, you have to know this. That's just how this goes."

Ted's eyes go sad at him, which might just be worse than the angry eyes he originally stormed up to Trent with.

"You really think that, huh? That I'll, what, just drop you? Drop you all?" His face goes sad and flinty. "Thank you Trent, for explaining so fully. Perhaps if you had spoken to me earlier we could've hashed this out before I was about to leave for the airport!"

Trent pulls back and shakes his head as if clearing it, not believing he heard what he thought he just heard.

"Did you just butcher Pride and Prejudice at me while yelling at me?"

Ted huffs out a breath. "Yeah, yeah I did."

Silence fall between them, while they just look at each other. Neither knowing what to say. Ted's phone dings.

"That's my car to the airport."

"Of course. You have to go," Trent takes a breath and fortifies himself to let him go. "Bye Ted. I'll miss our chats."

"Bye Trent," Ted adjusts his backpack straps and takes the couple steps backwards to the door. "I'll text you."

As Ted left, probably forever, Trent couldn't decide if he wanted Ted to text or for him to do the kind thing and just let this be a clean break.

Trent starts tidying his desk to head out. He needs to pick up Darcy from pre-school, make dinner, get some final edits in before bed, and then get up tomorrow to do it all over again. He'll just go on with his life and put Ted out of his mind.

But oh god, he hoped he texted.

#I really want this to end happily ever after #I'm just not sure how to get there #tedependent #ted lasso #trent crimm #tedtrent #ted x trent #ficlet

[harrywavycurly]

Hi Sarah!! I just am here to request some random conversations with Eddie🥰

Hiii babes!!! I hope you enjoy these, they are truly random😂💖

*Eddie doesn’t have Facebook but you keep him updated on the daily drama*

“Oh my goodness Eddie did you hear about Tyler and his girlfriend Amy?” “Uh..who are Tyler and Amy?…do we know them?” “We went to high school with them…but that’s not important…they broke up again.” “Again?” “Yes and Amy put all their issues on Facebook! Like apparently he cheated on her twice while she was at work.” “He sounds like an asshole.” “But then he went on her post and commented all the wild shit she’s done like she lit his clothes on fire the last time the got into a fight….Eddie are you listening?” “Huh? Yeah yeah…got his stuff lit on fire…keep going baby I’m listening…I’m just gonna start making dinner.” “Apparently she’s also cheated on him with his brother!” “That’s fucking gross.” “Right? I am shocked but also not…they are both toxic.” “I totally agree…”

“Uh baby…what’s all this?” “It’s about to be March…we have to decorate for St. Patrick’s Day.” “This is a lot…of green…” “well duh…oh can you help me get the rest of the bags out of the trunk?” “Bags? As in more than one? As in you have more shit…to add to this giant pile of green stuff on the counter right now?” “Just two more bags…will you please grab them for me so I can start decorating the kitchen.” “Why does the kitchen need to be decorated?” “Edward…” “fine fine I’ll go get the bags…but no decorations in the bedroom that’s where I draw the line.” “I know I learned my lesson at Halloween.” “That fucking ghost still haunts me…” “i mean…that’s kinda his job…” “you’re so annoying.”

“Hey baby how was your-” “thank god you’re home!” “What’s wrong?…where are we going?” “There’s a bug the size of fucking Texas in our bedroom.” “Oh so I’m getting dragged to the bedroom to kill a bug not for like…sexy time?” “We’ve talked about this…don’t call it sexy time.” “Sorry…where’s the bug?” “It was over there…by your nightstand….oh my god it’s gone…where did it go?…Eddie you have to find it and kill it.” “Baby how do you want me to find it?” “I don’t know…ah holy shit it’s on the bed! Eddie!” “Relax baby I see it…I’ve got it…okay it’s gone.” “Thank god…what? Why are you looking at me like that?” “You’re cute when you’re flustered…” “thanks honey…you’re cute when you’re killing bugs for me.” “Cute enough for a kiss…or two?” “I think so…but I’m not kissing you on this bed you just killed a bug on it…” “you’re gonna make me wash the bedding aren’t you?” “Yes…but I’ll give you a few kisses first.”

#conversations with eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x you fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson concept #eddie munson request #Eddie Munson #boyfriend eddie munson #boyfriend!eddie munson #my little dungeon master baby

[homomenhommes]

STORY: Kink Aid 1

Content warning: This has content, so now you have been warned. But really, the subject matter involves homoeroticism, analingus, religious subject matter in a sexual context, and a dash of transhumanism for that special zing.

Part 2 will be publised next Sunday

Part 3 to be publised next mid-month

***

"It's pricy, but I think it'd be fun. No, it's not some idiot cruise somewhere. That's just an elaborate way to get food poisoning. And that can just as easily be accomplished with takeout from that place on the corner. You know, the one that was open late that one time? Ah, God, I shouldn't have mentioned it." Luke chortled into his headset.

  "Actually, it's really fun. So, you know the whole craze in AI-generated artwork?" Bryce was trying to be funny, but it was all so getting on his nerves now. "No, I actually do not have ambitions of using the software to become the next Thomas Kinkaid. Why do I even talk to you?"

"So," Luke continued, "this one is called Days of Future You. I know, right?"

Bryce, on the other end of the call, was now humming the theme to a certain animated kids show, which actually managed to be, in context, quite funny. "So the idea is, Bryce, if you will shut up, I will tell you, the idea is that this AI program downloaded onto your computer accesses your social media profiles to derive a complex notion of your outlooks, tastes and preferences. So what it gives back to you from your prompts is not just based on those prompts and whether you want to build off them or weight them in future efforts. Instead, the history of other images you have liked, your comments, your group memberships, all that gets factored in, so it has a much more focused idea of what you want to make."

Bryce was now chattering about something else entirely, something about someone warming fish curry in the microwave at his office. "Okay, yeah, well that's fascinating. Did you hear what I just said?"

This at least silenced Bryce, but Luke knew it did not purchase his interest. In fact, he was annoyed enough now he didn't care. "I'm actually planning on using it for religious images. Most of these AI's are pretty much crap when it comes to that, unless you want some kind of bastardized New Testament as reimagined by HP Lovecraft--"

"Oh, so you'd love to read a Lovecraft adaption of the Holy Bible? Well, that's sweet." He didn't try to hide the sarcasm. They had finally moved on to the stage of the conversation where Bryce had advanced through disinterest to being actively disagreeable. "Anyway, I'd love, I mean absolutely love, to listen to you go on mocking my faith, but I have to go. Yes, my prayer group is meeting at seven, and traffic today on the turnpike is just awful. Thanks. Bye." Bryce was back to nattering on about the damn fish curry again now. "Bye."

  Luke hung up, thankful for the respite.

He liked Bryce in a weird way, and even thought it might be possible to save him, but that didn't help make him more bearable those times when he was, by design rather than accident, an absolutely impossible person.

  While he had been chatting with Bryce, all Luke’s social media profiles had finished uploading to the AI. Luke knew it was something of a privacy risk, but he had always been careful with his social media anyway. He was certain there wouldn't be anything untoward in any of the profiles uploaded. He was a member of several biblical interpretation Facebook groups, no end-times craziness; some conservative political forums that he couldn't even tell Bryce about without getting some kind of diatribe about Fascism, which was crazy because he had never even been to Italy; and a great many pages devoted to traditional art. Or as Bryce had put it, "your Ninja turtle shit."

Knowing he needed to leave presently if he was going to make it to the prayer group on time, Luke double-checked his settings and preferences on the image generator. He started trying to compose a quick prompt so the AI could produce something while he was away. "The Twelve Apostles, in the style of Rubens..." No. Too complicated. It was asking for trouble. "A penitent Mary Magdalene, in the style of Caravaggio..."

  He really didn't have time for this. He needed to enter something into the machine now so he could go, and not be late. Finally, frustrated with himself, he realized what he should do. Why not test out how well the AI app knew his refined sensibility, having just ingested all that information about him?

  Smirking, Luke typed the word "Bliss" into the keyboard, pressed enter, got up, and went to collect his coat and keys before heading out the door. It took the longest time for Luke to realize what he was looking at. And not because the image was fuzzy, or inexact. Two curves of tanned flesh, sprouting soft downy hairs. They were recognizable as the tops of the back of a man’s thighs, seen just below the buttocks. Mere inches behind them, at the top of the frame, the outline of a strong jaw. The neck was leaning forward, the Adam's apple exposed, and just below that, a muscular shoulder and the beginning of a chest.

  Luke did not really understand what he was looking at. He couldn't tell why the bodies would be partial in that way. Or why they would posed in that weird manner. Then he realized it was one figure kneeling behind the other, who was standing. If the figure with the visible jaw had been in the same space as the figure with the thighs, then just beyond the frame of the image, his mouth would be pressed between the ass cheeks of the other man. 

Immediately, Luke's satisfaction at figuring out the answer gave way to horror. He rushed to put it out of his mind. He deleted the image, disgusted. Maybe it had been a fluke? He hated to think he had wasted so much money. That image generator had been pricey. He decided to give it another try. So Luke typed in the word "Salvation". And with that he went to go watch that one documentary show on Netflix about fun medieval castles. Twenty minutes later, Luke, having fetched some ice cream from the fridge, came back to see what the AI generator had done with the prompt. His hands went numb, and the bowl slipped from his hands and broke on the floor, leaving two scoops of chocolate chip melting there on the floorboards. The image, which Luke's mind rebeled against ferociously, could have been the first scene from a different angle. The figures were seen from the rear. Hands, not belonging to the man standing or the man kneeling, were pulling the butt cheeks wide to reveal a small, puckered sphincter. The back of a bald head, glossy from some garment or coating, was leaning in, as if for a kiss. He couldn't even bear to think of the image as a reflection of the word he had entered as a prompt. It was blasphemous, obscene, horrible.

Luke was so upset he deleted it before he even went to fetch dish towels to clean up the ice cream melting on the floor.

Luke told himself it was the last try. If it didn't work correctly this time, he would delete the AI from his computer and put the whole thing out of his mind.

Perhaps, he realized the problem had been his own vagueness, combined with the incorrect assumption that the only people using the program were some kind of unclean pervert. He thought carefully, then Luke typed it in: "The Last Supper."

He didn't get up this time. He waited there, while the AI worked behind its nondescript waitscreen. Finally an image appeared. This time, another different angle. Seen three-quarters from the front, one muscular man with no public hair at all but with a fantastically veined erect penis was ejaculating, hands-free. Behind him, his face pressed into the first man's ass so tightly that all that was visible was the chin, jaw and neck, another man kneeled or sat. And it was plain he was cleaning the other man's ass, or perhaps worse, ingesting.

Luke's whole body quivered. He clenched his shut and looked away, as if he was in physical pain, or as if merely looking at the image could burn his eyes away.

For an hour he sat there, absolutely still, his hand on the mouse, cursor hovering over the delete button. Eventually, the computer went to sleep, taking the offensive image with it. Luke decided he would go to sleep and decide what to do in the morning, really hoping in fact that somehow the whole thing would be gone, and it would be revealed as some ridiculous dream, something as impossible and absurd as those feelings he had had long ago in puberty, that he had buried deep inside himself because Jesus wouldn't like them.

~~

+

[tallymali]

Don’t know if anon or messages is the better place to ask this. I have friend that’s had uti for 2 months and you came to mind. Would you mind telling your Dr/clinic and the new and previous meds you’re taking? Did both meds work & the new is just cheaper or does new work better also? Thank You Tally!

Oh my god, I'm so glad you've sent me this because I wish more than anything that I'd known about this illness so early on in experiencing it. I have soooo much to say about this so you're absolutely welcome to DM me and relay any questions your friend has.

Okay first off I definitely recommend your friend joins the facebook support group: www.facebook.com/groups/ChronicUTISupportGroup/

Even if they dont use facebook, they should totally just make an account to join. I didn't use it either so I just made a blank profile with a fake name. As long as you answer the questions they send, the mods should let you in with no problem. I said something like "apologies for the blank account, I don't use social media but I was told this is the best place for support" and I was accepted super fast.

So, the clinic I go to is the Harley Street chronic UTI clinic. They don't have their own website but all their info is here: www.chronicutiinfo.com/treatment/conventional-medicine/uk-treatment/prof-malone-lee/

(That website is also an incredible source of info on chronic UTIs)

You have to go there in person for the initial appointment, which costs £250. First thing they do is take your pee and analyse it under a microscope to get a count for white blood cells and epithelial cells. Then you go to the doctor's office (there's a team of doctors that all follow the same protocol) and they discuss your symptoms, any previous medications you've tried, and any other health issues you have. They will almost always prescribe Hiprex and a long term high dose antibiotic. Hiprex is a urinary antiseptic, and it essentially reacts with the acid in your urine to create formaldehyde. Most of us take high dose vitamin C pills with the Hiprex to keep our urine as acidic as possible (high bacteria in the bladder can raise urine pH so we often need help in that department).

At this point they will give you the prescriptions and say you can take them to your NHS GP and see if they're willing to fill them on the NHS. My GP didn't want to get involved with prescribing long term antibiotics, but was happy to fill the Hiprex prescription. I now get my antibiotics from Pharmacierge. Their prices are cheaper than regular pharmacies and they work closely with the Harley Street team. My doctor now just sends my prescriptions straight over to them which cuts out a little admin for me.

After that initial appointment you have to have a follow up appointment every 3 months, which can be done in person or over teams. Either way, they cost £200. If you go in person they will do the pee analysis again, but it's not super necessary to do that to monitor your progress. Patient symptoms are the number one thing they use to decide your treatment. Basically as long as you're in pain, they will keep treating you (the NHS would NEVER). Not a huge amount happens at these check ups, but being on long term antibiotics is risky so they will ask you a million questions about any possible side effects, and switch your meds immediately if you're not tolerating them well. They also ask that you contact your GP and request a blood test 3 times a year to monitor your kidney and liver function. They might also ask for other tests depending on your symptoms and the specific antibiotics you're prescribed.

So yeah, the treatment kind of just boils down to: find the right meds. Take them until you feel completely normal again.

As for the specific meds, here's a list of their most prescribed antibiotics:

Cefalexin

Amoxicillin

Co-amoxiclav

Nitrofurantoin

Trimethoprim

Doxycycline

Oxytetracycline

Azithromycin

Clarithromycin

Pivmecillinam

Lymecycline

For me, before starting treatment under Harley Street, I'd been treated by the Urology Partnership. They prescribed me 3 months of full dose Nitrofurantoin (brand name Macrobid, super common UTI treatment) and I was almost symptomless during that 3 months, but when I finished the course the symptoms returned instantly at full throttle. From that point they would only prescribe me the half dose of Nitrofurantoin which was NOT cutting it. That was when I decided to move to Harley Street. Definitely would not recommend Urology Partnership to people dealing with a chronic UTI.

SO. I emailed the Harley Street clinic with an appointment request and they booked me in for the next week. At my appointment the doctor prescibed Trimethoprim, which is usually the first one they try with new patients. I took it for a little while, (around 2 weeks to a month, I don't remember exactly) but I was still getting symptoms that weren't letting up, so I emailed their clinical enquiries address to let them know. I'd mentioned at my inital appointment that Nitrofurantoin had worked in the past, so they took me off the Trimethoprim and prescribed the Nitro instead, with the note that I'd have to discuss it at my next appointment.

Basically, Nitro is a really good antibiotic but has some of the nastiest side effects and is also the most expensive. So at my follow up appointment my doctor said he was happy for me to stay on it to get my symptoms back under control but he'd like to switch to a less risky antibiotic in time.

So a few months later (June this year) I was switched to Cefalexin, which has some of the least side effects and is one of the cheapest. I've been doing really well on it and I'm really feeling optimistic.

This is all to say that treatment is easy in theory but requires a little trial and error to find the right meds, and then takes a metric fucktonne of patience. There's no set length of time for the treatment, but in general, the longer you've had the cUTI the longer it takes to cure. So if your friend does have cUTI and can get treatment quickly, it shouldn't take too long to cure.

I had mine for two years before starting with Harley Street, which is actually much shorter than the average patient. They frequently treat older patients who have been suffering for over 20 years. I've read a depressing number of posts in the facebook group from people in their 50s+ who have been able to live normally for the first time in their adult life thanks to this treatment.

Knowledge of this condition with the general public AND with doctors (even urologists?????) is basically nonexistent. The NHS and most healthcare systems will slap you with a wastebasket diagnosis (PBS/BPS/IC) and tell you to piss off and live in pain forever. I genuinely don't think I will ever be able to trust a doctor right off the bat to actually prioritise my health ever again in my life. The NHS is full of people who really do care and really do everything they can for their patients but as an institution it does not give one iota of a fuck about the wellbeing of the people it's supposed to care about. It's a big complicated systemic issue but there will never be a good excuse for turning away patients who need medical care to live normally.

If your friend or literally anyone reading this is interested in the more academic/scientific side of this whole thing, I'd definitely read Cystitis Unmasked by Professor Malone Lee. It's written for doctors so it's not an easy read for a layperson but GOD it's so eye opening and infuriating. Professor Malone Lee is the guy who created the Harley Street UTI clinic and I think he spent his entire life raging at all the pillars of incompetance that modern UTI testing and treatment is built upon.

#sorry for rambling #i am on a one woman rampage to spread awareness about this bastard condition and the incompetence of the healthcare system #if anything i say could even possibly save another person from years of this hell and all the medical gaslighting #then i will talk until i DIE #asky ask

[my-shields-are-down]

Chenford + “Kojo did what?!”

Tim (on the phone) Your dog is in trouble with the neighborhood dogs.

Lucy: Why is he MY dog whenever he gets in trouble?

Tim: Isn’t that how he became my dog? He got into trouble because of you and your lack of Inherent Alpha dogged-ness…Ergo…

Lucy: Ergo? What is this? Are you studying for another snooty test or something?

Tim: Babe, please try to stay on topic. Kojo … well, he was a bit of a “dawg” a big ole dirty dawg.

Lucy: Kojo did what now? I’m confused, he is a big and often times dirty dog. Can you be more specific?

Tim: Really? You make me listen to poppy gangsta rap for hours on end and then you don’t know what I’m saying when I speak that language?

Lucy: Tim, you are a white-boy from the suburbs. You should never use that language. So again, what did Kojo do?

Tim: yeah, so apparently when Trish walks him during the day, she usually walks one of the other dogs in the neighborhood. There’s 4 main pups that rotate in and out. Trish thinks that each lady dog secretly loves Kojo - thinks they are his girlfriend.

Lucy: And? (Knowing full well what he means but egging him on anyway)

Tim: You really need me to explain this? Good grief. Ok. The trouble started when one of his “regular” walking mates got pregnant and the owners can’t figure out how it happened and there was a big blow up at the dog park when all 4 dogs and their owners were there when Kojo and Trish showed up. The dogs started barking and growling at each other and Trish said three of them ganged up and growled at the pregnant dog - who btw has the most hilarious new haircut and Kojo sat there like…. he was king of the park. You know … like..

Lucy is desperately trying to stop herself from laughing, but little squeaks and huffs keeps eking out as he gets deeper and deeper into the story.

Tim: Oh god. Well like that super misogynistic old season of The Bachelor you made me watch - with Jake Pavelka? - where all the bachelorettes hated that one chick with the sausage name and thought she was trashy because she was from the Florida swamps and she just wanted to beat them all and win for winning’s sake, and then she did beat out the tea name lady who had a voice like a chipmunk because Ali - who went on to be the next bachelorette- got fired from Facebook for being on the show and out for so long- left the show to try to salvage her job. She really dodged a bullet. Anyway…. Vienna - that’s her name- Vienna won but then forgot that the douche canoe was the prize… and Tenley -

Lucy finally cannot hold it in any longer - she busts out into hysterical laughter at Tim’s spot on analysis of that season. “Stop, please stop. I can’t breathe… I can’t…. Hahahaha…. You … you are comparing our dog - OUR DOG- to arguably the worst bachelor in the history of the franchise?! Oh oh god… my sides hurt… I’m getting a cramp. Honey… oh.. oh… I get it “dawg” d-a-w-g. Nice pun. Oh … oh… because his four walking companions were being all possessive of him and what ganging up on the pregnant one like oh! That one party where they ganged up on Vienna and totally bullied her? …. Stop it, stop,. you never said any of that stuff when we were watching, just gave me that annoyed side-eye… (snort). This might be my favorite retelling of the days events ever. Ohhh. I should’ve recorded it….”

Tim, on the other end of the phone is again giving her the annoyed side-eyed look, but he’s never heard Lucy laugh like this - so overcome that the sound of pure joy is bursting out of her and he feels another hole in his heart close up and mend. He now knows it’s not if he’s going to ask her, but when.

Lucy is still laughing when Tim scratches Kojo’s head and leans down to whisper good job. “Too bad you’re fixed or it really would be the most dramatic season ever…”

====

PS - I love that in most fan fiction, Lucy makes Tim watch trashy tv. So I could totally see him analyze both the men and women who are on the bachelor and bachelorette and know so much more than he ever lets on. He’s masterful at reading people and their motivation. The Bachelor seasons would be a gold mine for him. Plus Tim would watch because Lucy loves it and he loves her - that is… unless The Rams are playing Monday night then all bets are off.

PPS - that is not Jake in the gif below - but Jesse Palmer, former QB of the Giants, who would’ve been the bachelor my season if I had made it beyond the semi-final round of auditions.

#chenford #tim bradford #lucy chen #the rookie #tim x lucy #i love them #kojo #bachelor #Jake was a misogynist #worst bachelor ever #Vienna was treated like dirt #she didn’t deserve any of that #I love the thought of tim analyzing one of lucys favorite shows and having opinions #kojo is the top dawg #he’s a lover not a fighter #most dramatic season ever #this is the final rose of the night

[moral-terpitude]

Misadventures - Part 4

You threw your drink at the wall · it started raining wine and glass so · stay and warm me with the Gentleman Jack · gold locks on the cage · turn your diamond keys

Oh good, I just checked and I posted the previous part Feb 2. Seriously have lost track of time and thought I hadn’t posted since December.

Word Count: 2402

[Series Masterlist] [Preface] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

It took a week before she heard from him.

Updating social media as a creative person was the bane of Quinn’s existence. Marketing and promotion weren’t reasons she wanted to do tattoos, the appreciation and love of art was, but Instagram, Facebook, TikTok, those were all free marketing.

So she begrudgingly spent her day off in bed, editing, cropping, and uploading until she didn’t want to stare at a screen anymore.

Quinn stretched, fishing the phone out of the sea of the comforter that she had dozed back off in, for a messenger notification.

Thomas?

When the fuck did Facebook decide we needed to be on a first name basis with people?

Thomas.

She squinted at the photo before tapping on the name.

Thomas Shelby.

Jesus Christ, Quinn, get it together.

Quinn felt the blankets shift as her tiny, well at one time he was tiny, companion jumped up on the bed, sensing her movement beneath the covers.

“Hi Mr. Bee,” her voice croaked, still raspy from the night as the black long haired cat curled up next to her, already purring. He nuzzled his forehead against the bottom of her chin, before turning her arm into his own pillow.

“Oh, so this is how it’s going to be this morning, huh?” She rubbed his belly as he continued purring, rolling on to his back as Quinn’s phone lit up once again.

Quinn sighed, wriggling out from under the covers and throwing everything in the basket. Beelzebub watched her with skepticism as his nap was disturbed. Which led her to actually check the time and see that it was 3:45pm.

“Shit! Totally not prepared for this today.” Quinn whispered as she dug through the closet, the only clean casual clothes being a pair of cropped leggings and a floral embroidered hoodie. It would have to do.

She felt like an idiot as a smile spread across her face, typing out the address of the complex and instructing him to park in the alley since it was easier to go out the side door.

“Teeth. Face. Clean. God damn it.” She had said this year she was going to start getting up early and doing something with her days off.

It had been a couple months into the year that that had been abandoned.

“Do I look okay, Bee?” The only solution for her mane of hair today was to pile it on her head and hope for the best.

Usually Hannah would braid it if Quinn asked nicely.

It looked cold out so sandals were out of the question, as she slipped on a pair of moccasins and her furry companion only blinked slowly, now returned to the warm spot in the middle of the bed from his adventure to drink in the bathroom sink while she threw herself together.

“Thanks for the help, Bud.”

By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, the container of detergent and laundry sheets bouncing around in the midst of the clothes, she saw the black Range Rover already idling on the right side of the alley.

She opened the rear passenger door, tossing in the basket, to hear him talking through the voice controls of the car.

“Then fucking call Johnny and have him go fix it if no one can get out there. Christ, John, I don’t know what you expect me to do from here.”

Quinn climbed in the passenger seat and hooked the seatbelt, surprised to find herself gawking at how good he looked in a suit.

Whoever tailored it definitely deserved whatever they charged.

“Sorry,” he mouthed, putting the car in drive.

She shrugged, popping the AirPods in her ears to avoid eavesdropping. However, due to proximity she found out quickly that it was unavoidable.

“Okay, Tommy. The other thing is…”

“What, John. Out with it, eh?”

“Two of the cargo containers at the port in Camden Town were emptied out last night. Not even a fucking manifest left inside. The cameras quit working around 10:30 and came back on at 5 this morning.”

“Everyone goes off duty at 10,” Tommy sighed, as a red car cut him off in traffic.

“And comes in at 6, yeah.” John finished the thought, as Tommy lay on the horn.

“You good, Tom?”

“Fucker cut me off and can’t parallel park for shit. Listen, pull the schedules and see if anyone called in last night. Check and see if any of the exterior cameras happened to still be up. Call me back when you find something out.”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Bye, John.”

There was silence for a few blocks before they entered the parking garage for the market. Quinn decided whatever the conversation was about, it wasn’t good. Clearly there had been some kind of robbery, and she was positive it was none of her business to be asking questions about it.

“Hi,” she smiled, deciding that it was the most neutral starting point for conversation, before immediately deciding to wreck it, “I would ask how your day is, but it seems shitty from what I gathered, so, I won’t ask.”

Tommy glanced at her as she stared out the window, watching as the cars whizzed by with each level they went up.

“Yeah, well, tomorrow’s a new day, eh?”

Quinn nodded, tucking the headphones back in her pocket as they exited the vehicle.

“That’s a good point.”

Tommy watched Quinn from a distance, after they agreed that splitting up would be quicker, as she wandered in and out of the different sections of the market. It was like she was unsure but knew exactly what she was looking for all at once.

When she would pause to look at something, her fingers would find their way into the back of her hair or she would chew at her nails until she either picked something out or moved on.

She had lingered, barely, at the counter of exquisite looking chocolate and baked goods before moving on entirely.

There was something, endearing, for lack of a better term, about how casually she was dressed, Tommy realized. She was already small, but the looseness of the sweater almost consumed her, and—

“Do you have butter?”

He hadn’t noticed that she had fallen in stride next to him, brows raised as she waited for an answer, and it made him wonder if she had asked more than once before he noticed what she said.

“Yes.” He smiled, holding back the chuckle that threatened to escape, although she was serious it seemed like an absurd question.

They wove in and out through the thrum of people, as she glanced around quickly.

“Okay, then I’m all set.”

“Don’t I get to know at all what you’re making?”

“No,” she shook her head, “that would ruin it being a surprise.”

“What if I’m allergic to something?” He made a feeble attempt to look in the basket, trying to overturn the bundle of asparagus to see what else she was carrying.

“Well,” she swatted his hand away out of the basket, and propped it on her other hip, “are you?”

“No.”

Quinn tried not to laugh at the seriousness in his demeanor.

How the fuck did she end up wandering around with someone that actually has to wear a suit in real life? Suits were for weddings and funerals with the people she knew, and sometimes it was just a dress shirt and slacks at their best.

“Then, I’m not telling you!”

She huffed as she took another step, attempting to keep up with his stride.

“Why?”

Her brows knitted together as she looked up through her lashes, “Because you’re being facetious and speaking in monosyllabic sentences.”

Quinn watched out the window for most of the ride, not that she had never seen that part of the city, but it’s different when you’re used to going to the same places all of the time to finally see somewhere different again.

“Radio works fine, if you want to put something on.” Tommy offered, glancing out of the corner of his eye to see her perched leaned against the door, the sunlight catching the fine hairs that had gotten loose and making an orange halo play around her face.

She smiled, “I don’t mind the quiet, really.”

“Nice place.” Quinn glanced around as she sat the bag on the counter, retreating to the entryway of the apartment, a small mud room where the washer and dryer were located, to unload the basket of clothes.

“Thanks.” Tommy hung the suit jacket on the back of the tall chair at the kitchen island, before putting the groceries he had bought away.

“What’s the trick with this thing?” Quinn peeked around the corner of the fridge, eyes wide, awaiting a response.

Tommy stepped into the door way, looking past her to see the lid of the washer open. “It has to be closed or the water won't run. Fucking safety mechanism, can’t put anything to soak.”

Quinn nodded, letting the lid catch, before changing the settings to cold water, and, with a sigh of relief, pushing start.

“Fuck. That’s so much better.” She stretched, returning to the kitchen, in a printed black tee shirt, “it’s fucking warm in here.”

“Ninety-one?”

“Dennis Rodman? Chicago Bulls?” Her eyebrows shot up as she spoke, eyes widening as she searched his face for some ounce of recognition.

Tommy shook his head.

“Big,” she gestured, holding her hand up as far as she could reach, “black, guy. He was a power forward in every position he played. Number 10 for the Detroit Pistons, 10 for the San Antonio Spurs,” she continued stirring the sauce in the pan, before setting the spoon down to continue ticking off each number on her fingers, “91 for the Chicago Bulls, 73 for the LA Lakers, 70 for the Dallas Mavericks.”

“None of it rings a bell.”

“He’s fucking eccentric and I love it. He went to North Korea to visit Kim Jong Un in, uh, 2013? He played in the NBA for 14 seasons, with five championships, and was a two time all star. Dennis Rodman?”

“I’ve not watched much American sports.”

Quinn paused, taken aback at his statement, “You haven’t caught a Yankees game on TV?”

“No,” Tommy shrugged, as he continued loading the already used and no longer needed items into the dishwasher before closing it once again.

She must have dirtied every utensil possible while she was cooking, and he wasn’t going to stop her. It seemed like a fair trade at this point for getting to see her.

“Oh, we are gonna change that.” She added the already sautéed scallops to the pan once again, giving them a stir.

“Why, do they play tonight?”

Quinn looked at him, as he stood, arms crossed and leaned against the counter, the light smattering of freckles on his skin somehow more apparent than it had been before.

Something about their surroundings, maybe because she was occupied, maybe because of the warm deep tones of every bit of the place, rich wood, dark stone counters, leather furniture, she just felt comfortable.

“No,” she shook her head, grabbing the hot pad before pulling the baguette out of the oven, “but, we’ll go to a game sometime. It’s different in person.”

She flitted about the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers until she found what she needed, not bothering to ask where anything was.

It didn’t take long before there were two plates sat at the island.

“Bon Appetit,” she laughed into the glass as she took another sip of the water, balanced carefully on the chair with both legs crossed.

“Holy fuck,” his remark caught her off guard, not able to discern from his tone if it was a complement or not.

“Is it bad?”

“Fucking no, it’s amazing.”

She smiled, feigning embarrassment as she hid behind her free hand.

“Don’t tell me someone ever told you you can’t cook.”

She cleared her throat, “uh, once. Well, a few times actually. I ended up taking a cooking class when I moved here because it bothered me so much. The chef basically asked me why I was there.”

Tommy could feel the shift as she finished speaking. She gave a half-hearted smile before turning her attention to her plate, the light in her green eyes dimming a tad as she did.

“Well, they were a fucking idiot, eh?”

She tilted her head, watching him, some wave of normalcy coming over her at the way he sat, sleeves rolled, not daring to put his elbows on the counter.

Would this have been what it was like, if things had never all gone to shit with Gerard? Just a normal night.

“Yeah,” she agreed, finally taking a bite of the food, “he is. He was. Anyway.”

She cleared her throat, and Tommy could read people well enough to know it was time to stop talking about it.

“How,” she sighed, “it’s not any of my business, I guess.”

Tommy shrugged, giving a shake of his head, “I’ve gone and pried, go on, eh?”

“How are your kids?”

Tommy blinked, nodding as he looked away, eyes scanning as he thought.

“The horseshoes,” she nodded at the tattoo on the inside of his arm, “I noticed them the other day, but I wasn’t sure if it was parents names or kids or…” her eyes flicked to the photo hanging on the fridge, from the last time they visited at the beginning of summer, in Central Park.

“I don’t like that they’re so far away,” her heart twisted at the way his expression changed, looking more pained, “it makes it difficult. They’re with their mom and closer to family that way though.”

She had the thought, for a brief second, that maybe she could ask a bit more, but it was stolen away as his phone started ringing from its spot discarded on the counter.

“Fuck, sorry.”

Quinn shrugged, returning to her food as she thought about his words as he answered the phone.

Their mom. It did sound politer than calling her an ex or baby mama, and he didn’t wear a ring.

Quit daydreaming, Quinn, not like anything’s going to happen anyway.

[olderthannetfic]

Jesus Fucking Christ. I *wish* folks stopped ""criticizing"" AO3 if they *do not* understand it is an archive and not a fucking social media like Wattpad. I just encountered a post (not on Tumblr) where someone stated their frustration about how recent fandoms are just a bunch of conformists and take Wattpad for granted, thinking that Wattpad (as the corporation that is) *care* about fanfic authors. I did agree with OP, because OP didn't just mentioned AO3 as a safe and better place for fanfic authors, but other indie/specific archives. The thing is, when you have *better* places for your thing why the fuck do you stay on a awful designed site as Wattpad?

Well, a lot of folks took that *really* personal and started "criticizing" AO3 with stupid shit as:

"I don't know if people follow me!" Isn't that fucking better, actually? You *care* too much about followers and you think that "followers = quality". Depending on followers to value your work is *unhealthy* as fuck.

"I can't comment per paragraph/I don't like how people on AO3 don't comment at all". See point 1 but also like, if you want that constant feedback, that's okay. Stay on Wattpad (don't cry if your account or you fanfics get massive flagged and Wattpad doesn't say you shit about why they deleted your works tho [that still happens, *a lot]), but on AO3 is *not* necessary. Also I bet you don't even comment on fanfics. The most annoying people that cry "readers that don't comment are bad!!!" tend to be huge hypocrites.

"I don't know if people still read my fanfic because they can't 'vote' every chapter!" See point 1 again. Seriously folks, stop undervaluing your works. Quantity doesn't mean quality. And if y'all care that much about statics to the point of getting anxious and depressed and demotivated, you can hide the statics on AO3. I *hate* how social media has raised the young.

"AO3 isn't intuitive! I don't understand shit!" Why y'all *love* showing your learned incompetence? Search tutorials! They're *everywhere*. On TikTok, on Tumblr, on Twitter, on Facebook, on YouTube. Y'all just fucking lazy and proud of it. Sad, actually. Also, it shows that y'all never saw a digital library. Also sad.

"AO3 will turn toxic if people start massive joining". Darling, sweetheart, dear: 1. That 'massive joining' happened already, on 2020 and is still happening; 2. This is not Wattpad. Wattpad feels toxic because is like a social media, is like Twitter; it has all the features that annoying people love to use to harass other people. AO3 doesn't and thank God for that.

Then, besides of all that crap someone commented this and I still can't stop laughing: "AO3 is starting to be the site of the 'Not Like Other Girls', I'm so tired". Bitch, what the fuck do you mean by that, LOL? Then that commenter proceeded to moan about how people don't read their fic (oh okay you're just salty, LMAO.)

Anyway, listen. If you needs are covered by Wattpad's awful design, that's okay. Every fandom have different needs. That's why independent archives exists! But for the love of God stop "criticizing" AO3 "because it lacks important aspects" when that aspects *aren't* necessary for an *archive*. AO3 wasn't born nor is it nor will be a social media site, and I'm fucking glad. Also, go to a library. Seriously, touch real books. Smell them if y'all can too.

--

[sunbeam-regalia]

I remember being told that my score for the yearly maths challenge was more than 10% higher than everybody in the rest of my year at my school. More people at that school went to Oxford or Cambridge than almost all the other schools in the country, so, of course, I would follow in my father and mother's footsteps and go to Oxford. Surely, *surely* that would be my thing. It always had been! I was good at maths, great at maths, told day in, day out at school that maths was what I was made for, made to do.

But I started writing music most breaktimes on the school computers since I realised it was a thing I could do. I got MixCraft on my first laptop, and it became all I did after school. I loved it, to the supposed detriment of every other thing at the time. I would wake up in the middle of the night to do homework in time for the next day, I started spending every lunch break in the piano room. It was an escape.

Crashing out of studying maths at university was so bleak. I had already arranged for student halls, and that year I was given no courses to do except to pass that maths re-take. I should have gone back to my parents, found a way out of it, but instead I sat in that room and tried to sort through the sludge of studying, eating, relationships, friendship, family, CPTSD, insomnia, depression, gender, maths, endless garbage, nothingness, pain, don't eat, sleep, don't eat, sleep, don't eat, try to sleep, you need food. it's happening again. go outside and get everything you can find at the shop. put it on the table. eat. eat. eat. don't stop. send a picture to your friend. "look! i ate today." repeat. worry if the fact that you chat with older men online makes you a predator. worry if they think you're even a person. worry if the things they want you to do make you a predator. worry if you would ever break the cycle. your friend tells you he slept with her. he told you he knew you were trans the whole time. you can't bare to face him, to face anybody, all of those people that always said they were there if you needed them, and they barely registered your absence. You got sick, they took you to the hospital in the night, you thought you were going to die, you knew it.

And then, like that, it's over. you're with your parents and disappointing them in the way you always seem to do, but there's a post from this girl on facebook. She is so beautiful and there's a drawing of a caterpie on her page and she has posted about fire emblem. She is looking for somebody to live with.

And she is everything. And she is every joy in the world, obliterating the sepia, lighting the world into colour, life and love and wonder and excitement. Every new experience something to share, every meal something to enjoy together, every day more to see and heal and hurt and heal again and imagine and cry and laugh. And her smile, her eyes, her laugh, her touch, her cheeks oh god her cheeks, her hair, her kindness, her love, her care. So stunningly kind and she'll be convinced that no, it's normal to act like this, it's normal to care about friends this much, and in doing so you believe it too. The world is a kind place because she is there with you.

#Oops sorry sophie #Everything I write ends up about you

[kaelio]

slightly longer cactus chat about what might be our favorite watering hole for anne rice discussion (the end of TVA)

kaelio: well there is a little clip going around that reveals the only thing she said she KNEW going into TVA was the benji and sybelle bit

And I'm like GIrL WHaT

----that---- what is the part you were set on and had planned out?????

thecactifindahome: Lmao that is fucking iconic. Insane but iconic.

kaelio: I sincerely appreciate the number of curveballs. Again, finding out that she had siblings was genuinely shocking.

thecactifindahome: I'm sorry that's so fucking funny I'm cracking up

kaelio: It's hysterical tbh

I had assumed that the book was too sad, and she decided that it needed some positivity or something!!!

thecactifindahome: I would never have guessed that in a thousand years, I thought she was like, hmm how to walk back the suicide thing and came up with a bonkers fix

kaelio: not "he Must meet a precocious child and an overly saccharine 25-something blonde lady in a cliche soap opera situation"

"BUT I can add some S&M on the way in"

I. KNOW!!!!!

"i've got a vision in my mind, but it's going to take at least two hand jobs to get there"

thecactifindahome: What a fool I was. Of course she was like "Human pets are the key to this guy, who should have wacky hijinks with them, now I have to come up with something to say about Armand that isn't cute, hmm 🤔"

kaelio: Thank you!!! When I heard that I was like

NO WAY

thecactifindahome: "You know what would ease this tonal transition? Hallucinatory visions of like, eggs and the Eucharist and his parents. Perfect."

thecactifindahome: God, that horse had some fucking WORK pushing that cart

kaelio: And???? I guess???? That's why it works out???? Still one of the most incomprehensible decisions in the entire canon. to me.

kaelio: Literally in blood communion like benji is the equivalent of the puppy that keeps an elderly person from dying from grief when their last friend at the hair salon finally kicks it. Oh master master don't go master, benji still needs kibble every morning 🥺

-Anne Rice: see, nailed it. this was a great idea I executed perfectly

thecactifindahome: Omg fgdshhk that is literally exactly it

kaelio: The absolute audacity tbh

kaelio: because yeah my impression had been VERY much the same "ehhh let's actually take a swing here and end this differently." it's like writing happy days by starting with wanting to have a guy waterski over a shark

thecactifindahome: Like, I always did love that it was such a bizarre left turn out of fucking nowhere, but knowing that that was supposed to be the main story...!

kaelio: The icing on the cake is that the very opening of that sequence doesn't make any sense, and even he himself admits that!!!!! so somehow, that's both the one part she had planned, and also the very opening of it is very hard to parse in terms of what's fucking happening

thecactifindahome: And the fact that she doubled down on "yeahhh there was no way for that to happen, but it did so who cares really" in that Facebook post years later just means that nope, she intended it to make no sense and never second guessed it, good lord

Again, I love that. Would never have the nerve for a stunt like that.

kaelio: Which is also incredible because it absolutely didn't have to happen that way, she didn't get boxed into a corner. She decided to do that.

he falls down on the roof, he's in the snow on the roof for a little bit and overhears what's going on, he himself manages to crawl into the building at some point and attack the brother. No problem.

thecactifindahome: Or hell, they see him burn and are like 'what the fuck' and go check it out, bring him home, events ensue from there!

There are a thousand rational ways it could have gone down and she didn't like any of them

#cactus chat

[viridianvenus]

Oh my gosh! Just realized you were a beta for Family by the middle Warner sibling! I’m just so curious—what was that like? Highlights?? Lowlights?? It’s probably my favourite piece of fiction <333

Obviously the biggest highlight was getting to read the new chapters early. She had a pretty detailed outline going well into the Warner's adulthoods. I don't know the details, but she already knew who wound up with who, what careers they had, who had kids and how many and if they were boys or girls.

Another highlight was when she'd slip shout outs to me in the story. That friendly cat reporter Anica? I had a cat named Anica. One of the other students in Dot's riding class, Diego? My other cat was named Diego. Yakko's early girlfriend Athena working in a cookie store? I worked in a cookie store at the time.

Another highlight was just knowing that I was helping what I knew from the very start was going to be the biggest deal fanfic in the fandom. Obviously all of the genius came from her and my impact was minimal, but it was there. When I read the very first chapter she posted I knew I was reading the start of something amazing, but the spelling and grammar were all over the place, so I contacted her and offered to be her beta. We did not know each other at the time. Her immediate reaction was "God, yes!" I edited that first chapter, she reposted it and I was her beta for the next two, maybe three years.

A lowlight would be that, try as I might, I was never able to get her to stop info-dumping non-story related content. All we need to know is that the grandfather clock is significant to Goose, and why. We don't need a full page explanation on how grandfather clocks work. All we need to know is what's going on emotionally between Wakko and Foghorn, we don't need paragraphs explaining on how to fix a car engine. But her justification was that she spent the time doing the research and by God she was going to use it.

Another lowlight, and I'm not sure I'd really call it a lowlight, but it is ultimately the reason why I stepped down as beta (the final two, maybe three, chapters were not beta'd by me) was that it was a major time commitment. You know how massive those chapters were. My turnaround time was 4-5 days. That was not an expectation set by her, she was always saying she didn't know how I was doing it so fast, that just wound up being the speed that I worked. My process was that I would get the chapter and then I would read it through just as a fan enjoying the story. If something stuck out to me I would notate it, but I was reading with my fan brain, not my editor brain. Then I would reread the whole chapter again. much slower, with my editor brain. I was working two jobs at the time, so it eventually got to be too much, but by that time she had a second beta so I wasn't leaving her high and dry.

To this day, Family is still my favorite fanfic ever. Not just for Animaniacs, but in general and I still do occasional re-reads. She and I aren't in touch anymore, we're still Facebook friends but neither of us really use Facebook anymore. She's married and works full time, and we basically just slowly lost touch. We did briefly reconnect when the reboot first dropped. She wasn't impressed. She couldn't even make it through the season. I don't like the reboot either, but I watched all of it and gave her a rundown of what she had missed. She's glad she stopped watching when she did. We both agree that the reboot writers have no idea who the Warners are.

#animaniacs #animaniatag #animaniacs reboot