#threw me under the bus. said i was the only one and they were forced to go along with it. and i agreed. i didnt bring up their names. becaus

[biggestsimponhere]

angst to smut ask: #7 prompt for angst where the reader is actually the hyde and has been manipulating everyone into thinking it was Tyler. Eventually he takes things into his own hands and ties her up and hatefucking ensues

Hatefucking - Tyler Galpin x reader, OML, THATS A VERY INTERESTING PROMPT 🤭😈 this could easily have an actual angst pt 2 btw.

WARNING - Smut, dom/sub undertones.

You hadn’t meant to throw Tyler under the bus. He was just the easiest. He was there at every attack I mean it makes sense doesn’t it? So as Wednesday continued her hunt you subtly threw hints out about it being Tyler. “Where’d Tyler go after the dance?”, “Why didn’t Tyler follow you into the woods when you went after Rowan?” Of course you liked Tyler it was really such a shame you had to do this to him. Slowly the group started to question Tyler like you had been. You of course knew the truth. He wasn’t the Hyde. You were.

So all that being said. That’s how you ended up here. tied to a bed in what appeared to be an abandoned building. Tyler sat across from you in a chair. “Why’d you do it?” He asked leaning forward. “Do what Ty?” You asked trying to act concerned. You could easily break out of this if you tried. “Stop it, don’t act dumb” He spat, looking away from you. “Ty, I don’t know what you’re talking about, why did you tie me here” You said forcing panic into your voice. “Oh stop it, you manipulative little bitch” He said moving to stand over you. “Oh fine, but it was fun wasn’t it Ty” you said smirking. He just looked away from you, clenching his jaw.

“Oh just admit it Ty, you enjoyed our little game” You said looking up at him. “No I didn’t” he said glaring down at you. “Admit it Ty, you want me, I can smell it, the arousals coming off of you, is it me being tied up?” You laughed as he turned away again. “Enough” he said, his voice firm. “Come here Ty” Clearly the boy didn’t have much willpower cause he did come back. “Shut up” he said looking at you again. “Shut me up” You said smirking again. He leaned down and kissed you. You chased the kiss but he pulled away. “You want me too, don’t you?” He said laughing. “Obviously I want you, why do you think I’m still stuck to this bed?, you think I can’t get out?” You said shaking your head.

“Oh I know you can, I just wanted to see if you would try or not” He said before kissing you again. “Untie me please” You asked as he moved from your lips to your jaw and then to your neck. “No, I quite like having this power over you” he said sucking on your neck. You yanked at your wrists, the rope falling loose off of them. Then you flipped Tyler so he was flat against the mattress with you straddling him. “Power? Over me? That’s really interesting” You said grinding onto him and then watching him chase your hips. “Seems like the only one with power here is me” You said as you sucked on his neck. He went to thread his fingers through your hair before realising his wrists were now tied to the bed. “H-how, when did you do that?” He asked looking at his wrists.

“When I was kissing you, silly, men are so easy” you said pushing your hips against his again. You leaned down and captured his lips with yours again. “Is there something you want honey?, you’ve gotta ask. You know the drill” You continued kissing down his neck till he was breathing heavier. “You gonna ask pretty boy?” You said swiping the hair off his forehead. You quickly removed your clothes before sitting in front of him again. “P-please” He groaned out. “Please what?” You said, making him beg a bit more. “Please touch me, please” He said bucking his hips into your hand. “See that wasn’t so hard, was it?” You said undoing his belt. He was practically a mess beneath you and you’ve barely even touched him.

“Hey what’s your safe word?” He looked up at you confused. “I’m mean, not cruel” you said at his questioning look. “Red” He said as you pulled off his pants. Now that his jeans weren’t constricting him, you could see just how big he was. You bit your lip before pulling his boxers down. “Wait!” He shouted before you could do anything. “Yes?” You said looking up at him expectantly. “I- I wanna eat you out first, please sit on my face” He said making puppy dog eyes at you. “Are you sure? You don’t have to” You said, slightly concerned about crushing him. “Yes I’m sure, god I’ve never been so sure about anything” He said licking his lips. You moved up towards his face. You hovered over his face till he nodded at you. You were now fully seated on his face. He immediately started sucking on your clit.

You bucked your hips against his tongue. He then moved down towards your hole. He stuck his tongue in you feeling how you tightened around him he groaned before continuing to lap at you. You moaned out, bucking against his face. His nose rubbing against your clit making you moan louder. You threaded your hands through his hair as he continued to eat you out. “God!” You moaned out as you came into his mouth. You slid off of his face and back down his hips. You stopped for a second, untying his hands. “Can I suck you off pretty boy?” You asked to which he responded by rapidly nodding. You moved back down to settle in between his legs.

Leaning forward you licked his tip causing him to groan. You then moved your tongue from his tip down to his base and then back up. You took the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it for a minute, before taking him deeper. He put his hand through your hair and pulled it into a makeshift ponytail. You hallowed out your cheeks before taking him deeper. Above you the hand that wasn’t in your hair gripped the sheets as he whimpered. You pulled your hand up to wrap around what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You continued to suck him off till he couldn’t take your agonisingly slow pace. He gripped your hair a little tighter before fucking into your face.

You just let him chase his orgasm. He came in your mouth shortly after and you sucked him till he had nothing left to give. Then you slid off him with a pop and moved to kiss him again. “Please fuck me, please” he whined as you settled on his hips again. “Since you asked so nicely I suppose I can do that, are you gonna be a good boy for me?” You asked as you lined him up with your entrance. “Yes, yes please” he whimpered as you sank down onto him. It took a few to adjust to his size but eventually you got there. You started bouncing on him before eventually getting tired of doing all the work. “Be a good boy for me and fuck me, I’m sick of doing all the work” You ordered. So he flipped you around till he was on top.

He started his pace up again, and you moaned loudly in his ear. “God, I hate you” you moaned as he continued to pound into you. “Yeah I hate you too” He said moving to suck another hickey onto your neck. “For someone who hates me you sure seem to want to mark me a lot” you groaned as he pounded into you. “Could say the- same to you” he said gripping your hips. Surely tight enough to leave bruises tomorrow. You just moaned as you came around him. He followed shortly after, cumming inside you. He pulled out and laid next to you. “Y-you’re not gonna tell anyone I’m the Hyde right?” You asked looking him in the eyes. “Not until we figure out how to fix it sweetheart” He said brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

You wrapped your arms around him and he pulled you into him. “Goodnight, I love you Ty” you mumbled into his chest. “Goodnight. I love you, sweetheart.” You drifted off to sleep in his arms. He leaned down and kissed your forehead and then whispered “I’m sorry” against your hairline before he injected you with sleeping serum.

#tyler galpin smut #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin x you #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin #wednesday #Wednesday characters x reader #hunter doohan

[willow-tree-writes]

✾Why Her, Not Me✾

Tyler Galpin x Reader

Summary: You confront the boy you like. He rejects you. He then tries to get you back with force.

Request: No one, I just finished watching Wednesday a few days ago and wanted to write something for him

Author’s Note: I got nothing

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Mild Cursing, Mild Violence, Angst

!I don’t own this gif!

I feel your ghost, smell you all over my clothesOh, your smoke’s stuck in me longer than you did

When you saw him standing, looking around, in that suit, your heart dropped. You thought, just for a moment, that he was here for you. That he somehow knew you were going to the Rave’N, even though he didn’t go to Nevermore, nor even knew you went here.

But he was alone. He had to be here with someone. Or for someone.

And somewhere, deep down, you knew he wasn’t here for you.

But that didn’t stop you from approaching the boy you’ve known since arriving to Jericho.

I had my doubts, I had to check it all outAnd now I see that you’ve run back when I thought you’d quit

“Tyler?” You asked as if you didn’t know it was him. “What are you doing here?”

His eyes widened slightly at the sight of you, his surprise surmounting your own. “Y/N? I-I could ask you the same thing…”

“I asked you first.” You state, slipping your hands in the pockets of your dress to act all nonchalant. Act like your heart wasn’t about to beat right out of your chest at the mere sight of this boy.

He glanced at the punch bowl before gesturing over to the girl that was there. The only girl at the whole dance that wasn’t wearing white. “I was asked out.” A small smile graced his lips at the mention of being asked out. Or maybe by the mention of the girl.

Your heart stopped beating and threatened to drop out as you looked to see who he was with. “Wednesday Addams? Your date is Wednesday Addams?”

He shrugged and nodded. He opened his mouth to say something, perhaps ask a similar question, but you quickly cut him off.

“Why in the world would you go to this dance, let alone with Wednesday Addams?” The question came out faster than you could even think. “I mean, the two of you are completely different people.” You add soon after, realizing how harsh your prior question was.

He looked at you with confusion, as if unsure of what you were asking. “What? Why does that matter? And what are you even doing here?”

You ripped your hands out of your pockets, grabbing his arm and pulling him off to the side, away from the entering people. “If you know what’s good for you, you’d leave her alone, Tyler.”

You had nothing against Wednesday. Sure, she was weird, even for an outcast, but that wasn’t really an excuse for anything. What you point was that, from the time you’ve known her, she seemed incapable of feeling any emotions. Especially that heart wrenching one that you couldn’t help but feel towards this normie before you.

“I mean, there are so many other people in this world, both normies and outcasts, that are better for you.” Like me, you thought.

It looked like he took offense to that. “What makes you think you can determine something like that for me?”

“B-Because…” You stuttered a moment, thinking of what you could say to that. “Because I’m your friend!”

He scoffed, appearing to hold back an eye roll. “Friends? We haven’t talked in a year, Y/N. We haven’t talked since you threw me under the bus!”

“I didn’t throw you under the bus!” You didn’t realize how loud you were until a few eyes glanced your way. “I just tried to make you see that the friend group you were running with wasn't right for you.” You said after lowering your voice.

This time he did roll his eyes. “So I need better friends and a better girl to go out with. Well then, if you know what’s good for me, who do you suggest? Hmm? Yourself?”

It might have been what you were thinking, but the way he said it stopped you dead in your tracks. Anything you might have said to answer him was completely gone.

He didn’t see you as a friend anymore, let alone anything more than that.

You took my air out of your lungsSo you could breathe with another one

You took a small step away from Tyler, before beginning to back away. You turned away from him, needing to flee from this situation.

He didn’t stop you. He didn’t try to backtrack on what he said.

You two had been friends for years. Friend since you were sent to this school. You had caught feelings for him halfway through all that time. And he could care less about you.

Oh tell me, why her, not me?What did I do for you to wreck it all?

In your attempt to flee, you bumped into none other than Wednesday Addams herself.

“Shit, sorry…” You mumble, pushing past her quickly. 

You needed to get away from all this. Everything felt like it was closing in. Everyone was staring at you, you knew it. You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

Oh Lord, it's not my faultWhy her, not me?Why did you have to build the walls so high?Oh no, I'm not done climbing.

“It was all a ploy, Y/N…” Tyler took a step towards you as you took one away, your back hitting a tree. “Don’t you see? I never cared for Wednesday the way you think.”

The space between the two of you was completely closed as he put his hands on your cheeks.

“Come on,” he whispered, leaning in so his face was inches from yours. “I need you, Y/N. I’ll get Laurel to spare you, and we will be the only outcasts left.” He lightly caressed your cheek. “Together, we’ll be unstoppable.”

He didn’t know your standing. He shouldn’t have known. But seeing as he was working with Thornhill, it didn’t surprise you.

You tried to turn your head away from his hand, taking in a sharp breath. “You’re killing innocent people, Tyler.”

He grabbed your face and forced you to look at you. “No one is innocent in this.” He practically snarled. “You either come with me, like you’ve always wanted, or you die with the others.”

Looking directly in his eyes, you knew all of the boy you once hung out with was completely gone. He was different. Truly a monster.

“This isn’t you, Tyler…” You choked out, sounding it more like a sob than words. “Please, you don’t have to do this.”

He shook his head, letting out a fake, dark laugh. “Yes, yes I do.” His hand slipped from your cheek to your neck. 

Your airway was slowly obstructed as his grip tightened and tightened. “I’ll make sure everyone knows you died due to your love for me.” He smirked as his eyes enlarged and he changed right before you.

She heard about me, and all your history I'm not tryna burn myself but I can let it go Piece by piece uncovering dishonesty Never been truth in anything I've ever known.

#wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday fanfic #wednesday netflix #netflix wednesday #wednesday x you #wednesday x y/n #wednesday fanfiction #wednesday one shot #wednesday imagine #wednesday angst #tyler #tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x you #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin fanfic #tyler galpin fanfiction #tyler galpin angst #tyler galpin one shot #tyler galpin imagine #wednesday tyler #tyler wednesday

[leftatlondon]

going on lunch at my work, taking a tupperware & a can out of the work fridge, microwaving the contents of the tupperware (separately from the tupperware itself because even if it says it’s “microwave safe” on the bottom, i don’t trust it), & cracking open the can as I wait, only to find out I accidentally brought the Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers again instead of the can of Liquid Death I’ve been trying to bring to work for the past week. Have I been cursed? Is this normal? I got what I thought was Liquid Death out of my home fridge this morning… but if I’m holding the Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers right now… does that mean I’ve just been storing these boxers in my fridge somehow? Either way, i just knew that I wasn’t going to let these boxers go to waste. Keep in mind, dear reader, I have been opening these cans of Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers in this office break room every day this week, in an attempt to see if the ONE can of liquid death that I bought for the first time (that I assume is still in my home fridge) is worth the hype. I mean, it can’t be worth the hype, right? It’s canned water. It must taste a little aluminum-y. & clearly some outward force is trying to keep me from drinking Liquid Death. Perhaps as a precautionary measure, so I don’t have to drink a whole cans worth of gross water? Because this is like, the third time this week I’ve accidentally opened a can of Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers. Something’s up.

I know I must investigate, but I don’t want to just waste my Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers. They just got out of the work fridge, so they’re ice cold, which admittedly feels nice on my genitals. Not in a way that’s like, sexual, I just think a little pube coolin’ is good for a bitch. I threw them away the first day it happened. But yesterday, I tried them on (under my work clothes, of course), & it felt… peaceful. Dear reader, It’s been a rather dark year for me, & so I take the little comforts when I can. Yesterdays little comfort was those ice cold Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers. Eventually, I put on my ice cold Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers, & while it doesn’t feel as nice as I remember, I leave work (without telling anyone) & walk 18 miles home. I normally take the bus, but today, I was mad enough (& my genitals were cold enough) to energize me to walk every mile back. I walk in the door, walk past the living room, & head straight to my home refrigerator. I open it; there it is! Right next to 19 individual cans of Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers is my liquid death. “Alright, you devilish can,” I said. “It’s time I drink you up!” I open the can of Liquid Death. I slurp a lil bit of it. I lick my lips. Yuck! Just as I expected; it’s a little aluminum-y. Like, why wouldn’t you just put the water in a tetrapack or something? I start thinking further… why have I been bringing Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers to work every day instead? I close the fridge (because my genitals are cold enough) & I frantically search the house.

I open the door that leads from the kitchen to the garage, & I see a car, still running, with no one in it, spewing exhaust throughout the room. Which makes sense now that I think about it, I was wondering why I would see smoke coming out from under that door every time I was in the kitchen. I just never checked cuz I figured it was none of my business. Regardless, I now remember that I rented a car about 4 days ago because I wanted to see if I could get one with a fake ID. I brought it home & parked it & got so scared of driving it anywhere else, I jolted out of the car, neglecting to turn it off. The experience was so traumatic, I blocked it out of my memory… i guess it was giving me carbon monoxide poisoning too. I guess it’s true what they say. You can lead a car to your garage, but you can’t leave it in there running because you’ll get carbon monoxide poisoning & you’ll buy 22 individual cans of Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers. #wednesdaywisdom

#original pic by @eatsyourburger on twitter which is a great screen name

[lost-tardis-room]

another good omens fic

i am tired and ill but hey look i wrote a fic today

summary - Aziraphale comes back down to earth and Crowley has Feelings about that

not very long, bit of angst, not explicit

Crowley was sitting on the roof of his apartment building, watching the London traffic crawl beneath him. A bottle of wine was placed precariously on the ledge beside him, as he dangled his feet off the edge. He’d got his flat back yes, but didn’t spend much time actually in it. He’d never really liked it anyways—too cold, too harsh. The exact opposite of the bookshop, the only place that had ever really felt like home—and now a place he couldn’t bring himself to go back to. The cold numbed his fingers and the wine numbed his head a little and he’d been doing this every evening for three months. More than six thousand years he’d been alive and yet these last three months had the been the longest and most painful of his existence. Things were going badly, and in any case, Heaven and Hell were planning the end of the world again, and Crowley wanted to enjoy the last of human alcohol while he could. 

There was a click of a door behind him and the tap of footsteps. Crowley wheeled around to cuss out whoever dared interrupt his moping, but then froze, staring. 

‘Um. Hello,’ said the recently appointed Archangel Aziraphale. 

Crowley was taken aback—there he was, just as Crowley had (secretly) hoped he would be—but at the same time very different from the silly, ridiculous, lovely angel he had always known. He looked exhausted, though Crowley doubted he looked much better (in a burst of melodrama he’d grown out his hair again)—bags under his eyes, a short beard that somehow made him look more intimidating and more dishevelled than usual, at the same time. He was wearing different clothes—they were evidently new, but not looked after anywhere near as well as that same outfit he’d been wearing for the last two hundred years—his shirt and jacket full of creases.

‘You,’ spat Crowley. Or, tried to spit. The word left him forcefully but with little of the anger he had intended it to have. He stood up, refusing be any further beneath Aziraphale than he already was.

‘Come back have you? Decided Heaven’s not that great after all? Missed all your nice human things? Going to ask for forgiveness?’ He sounded resigned more than anything else. He had wanted to hate Aziraphale, but could never quite bring himself to. 

‘Crowley I— I only wanted to help,  I thought I could— we could—‘

‘There is no we, anymore. As you so like to point out, I am a demon and not worth your time. Whatever brilliant plan you have for fixing Heaven’s great idea, I’m not helping. You and me barely survived it the first time, I’m not throwing myself under the bus because it’s taken you this long to realise that everything’s going to be just as dead now as they always planned.’ Crowley waved the bottle of wine in the general direction of upstairs.

‘That’s not why I came.’ Aziraphale looked deeply uncomfortable, fidgeting with his hands like he always did when he was stressed.

‘Oh yeah? Why is it then? You don’t even like me, you said it yourself—‘

‘I miss you, Crowley.’

Crowley opened his mouth to say something snarky and then closed it again. No way this could be happening. 

‘I wanted to say that I’m sor—'

Crowley threw the wine bottle at the ground, took three steps forward and slammed Aziraphale into the wall, one hand grabbing his collar and the other on his shoulder.

‘You don’t get to say that, you don’t get to apologise after everything, after everything you… said…’

Aziraphale reached up and pulled Crowley’s glasses off his face, setting them down on a nearby ledge. He could see perfectly fine in the dark of course, but to be suddenly met with the full force of those pale blue eyes of stars… Aziraphale was crying slightly. Crowley suddenly felt like his insides had been hollowed out. He gently loosened his grip on Aziraphale’s collar, painfully aware of just how close together they were.

‘I miss you, Crowley,’ Aziraphale repeated. Tenderly but a little awkwardly, he raised his hand and cupped Crowley’s face in it, running his thumb along his cheek. 

‘I want to— I want to spend my existence with you. Together. It’s okay if that’s… too much for you.’ Aziraphale’s voice was shaky, and Crowley could feel him trembling under his hands. Glancing away, he distantly wondered how everything led to this. 

Too late, Crowley realised he was already leaning in. 

‘Oh angel,’ he said in a low voice. He breathed in Aziraphale’s familiar scent, like summer air and dust with a hint of fancy cologne. Aziraphale tilted his head up as his lips met Crowley’s, a kinder, softer embrace by far than their last. Crowley slipped his hand from Aziraphale’s collar to down around his waist, pulling him in closer. The angel’s fingers moved around his head and into his hair, both of them terrified but realising more than ever that this was what they wanted. 

‘I won’t leave you on your own,’ said Aziraphale quietly. ‘I’m not going back, I’m staying here with you.’

Crowley grinned and kissed him on the forehead, his fingers under Aziraphale’s chin.

‘I missed you so much, angel,’ Crowley whispered, and kissed him again. And he knew, just then, that despite everything, despite everything that had gone wrong between them and all the talking and explaining and apologising they had to do, that they would be alright now. Crowley and Aziraphale, a group of the two of them—they had both Fallen, in a way, Fallen in love—and it didn’t matter that Heaven and Hell could never understand that. They were on their side. Together. 

#good omens fic #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #good omens #i don't think it's quite as good as the other ones but i wanted to write a version of a post s2 reunion #didn't quite turn out as planned but i'll probably try again later #excuse the run on sentences lol

[tatsumessy]

You took my heart, and gave it a home - {005}

Synopsis

you, rin and all the blue lock boys are classmates in your final year of high school. both of you have to work together on a project so thankfully yours good friend bachira was way too excited to give it to you, but who knew that would turn into everyone you know and love finding out your worst secret.

Pairing

Itoshi Rin x fem reader

TWs⚠️

physical abuse, mental abuse, sexual abuse, alcohol abuse

Taglist 💕

@shikamiru @babbymario @oppirate-blog @little-charlatan @vilarawaltn @miyuaditt @beidousbubz @saeswifeeee @heartstealer-law @sheeshizzy @justxiao @tsukishiro-yue2402

After taking your shower you dried yourself and made sure to check and see if the bruises were going away. The only one that could serve as a problem is the one on your collarbone. “Y/n!” You flinched hearing your father scream and bust your door open. “Yes?” He walked into the room and started yelling about some random shit and as you say there listening you looked down at your phone them back up at him. “Are you even listening to me?” He snatched your phone out of your hand and started going through it.

“Whose Rin Itoshi?” He asked not looking up from your phone as he continued to go through it. “A classmate. I’m going over to his place to finish a project we’re both working on together.” “Your not going anywhere.” You scoffed and before you could even say anything he back hand slapped you causing you to fall onto the floor and the towel you had on fell off. “I have to go, this project is thirty percent of my grade!”

“Do I look like I care? It’s not like your going to graduate anyways you fucking idiot.” Tears weld in your eyes as he continued to spew curses at you, grabbing your towel you were about to stand up but he stopped you. “You are not going to that boys place.” “IM EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD! I can do whatever the fuck I want!” You yelled back at him while standing up and fully covering yourself.

“I don’t care how old you are, you live under my roof which means you listen to what I say.” “You can’t blame me for moms death forever.” You fucked up. You should’ve never said that because the next thing that happened was he gripped the back of your hair and threw you on your bed. He ripped the towel off of your body and with one hand pressing your neck into the bed his other undid his belt pulling out his dick.

He forced himself inside of you aggressively and thrusted repeatedly, he pressed into your neck harder keeping you from screaming. Small whimpers fell from your mouth along with a continuous stream of tears and pleas for him to stop. “This is what ungrateful little bitches like you get.” He whispered in your ear before forcing himself on you even harder.

“F-fuck you…” you whimpered out and his hand came to slap you again but your fingernails clawed at his face and he screamed falling onto the ground. You quickly got up and grabbed a couple pairs of clothes and your phone to leave but before running out the room you kicked your father in his exposed dick. Throwing whatever clothes you had on you didn’t even have time to grab shoes as you ran down the stairs and out towards the bus stop.

You sat on the bench and pulled out your phone to call Rin. The phone rang for a few seconds until he picked up sounded a little annoyed. “Y/n im still at practi-” “Rin, can you please come pick me up. Please…” you let out a strained sob as he awkwardly agreed and said he’d be there in a few minutes. The whole time waiting you kept looking around making sure you were alone, when you looked down the street you saw Rin’s car coming.

“Y/n!” You turned seeing your father holding a towel up to his face while speed walking over to you. Standing up you grabbed the rest of your clothes and ran towards Rin’s car, he brake checked right there and unlocked the door. You opened the door and looked up noticing your father start to walk faster, “Drive Rin. Drive.” You shouted closing the door and he sped off without looking back.

~

“Are you ready?” “For?” Rin asked looking at you with curiosity, “the assignment, that’s what I came over here for.” You said putting a piece of hair behind your ear and looking at his notebook the was sprawled across his desk. “Did you and your father get into a fight?” He asked and you turned to face him in his rolling chair, “just a disagreement. After a couple days he’ll cool down.” You responded giving him one of those fake smiles you’d give your teachers and other adults.

“Okay. Where are you going to stay in those couple of days?” “At my moms place. My parents are divorced so I have a place to go don’t worry.” You laughed turning back towards the desk to look over the notes he had, “I’m not worried.” You didn’t know it but the light from his lamp was illuminating on your neck and he could see the bruises etched around your whole neck.

masterlist - next

#blue lock rin itoshi #bllk rin itoshi #itoshi rin #rin itoshi x you #itoshi rin x reader #blue lock rin #rin itoshi #bllk rin #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x y/n #rin x reader #rin x y/n #itoshi rin x you #itoshi brothers #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #bllk angst #blue lock angst #bllk x reader #bllk x female reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x mc #blue lock #blue lock itoshi rin #blue lock isagi #bllk isagi #bllk isagi yoichi #blue lock isagi yoichi

[lovebombs4life]

english love affair - a.f.i

when the lights go out, she’s all i ever think about

cw: SMUT, fem!reader, swearing, cringe writing, not proof read!

in which you’re harry styles’

sister.

———

don’t get my wrong, i loved my brother. and i loved going on tour with him. but i have gone on almost every tour with him, so when he told me that i’m coming with him on tour again, i almost we wanted to hit him. i mean yeah, i could say no, but he’s my little brother. i wanted to support him more than anything.

so of course, i pushed through having to be on more tour busses. “it’s gonna be so great y/n, our opener is fantastic!” harry said, excited for me to meet them. i smiled at him, asking who they were. “they’re called 5 seconds of summer. they’re from sydney, australia, and they’re starting to get bigger, so we asked if they’d open for us cause they’re really great.” he spoke. i nodded my head. i recognized the name, but didn’t know a lot about them.

“anything i would know?” i asked. “their song, she looks so perfect, is pretty popular.” he shrugged. “that’s them?!” i exclaimed. he looked at me confused. “yeah?”

“i didn’t know they were 5 seconds of summer!” i yelled. “calm down y/n, it’s not that serious.” harry spoke, trying to get me to be quiet. i laid my head back against the couch where i was sitting.

“oh and erm… we leave tomorrow!” he said before leaving the room. i shot up off the couch. i had to get packed, and with less than a day to get everything together. “you’re a pain!” i yelled to harry. he only laughed and closed his door.

i ran up to my room, throwing clothes into my suitcase. after a while, i took a break. i grabbed my phone to look up 5 seconds of summer, scrolling through their photos on instagram. i hit the follow button before closing instagram and opening youtube, and playing what i could find of their music.

harry was right, they were fantastic. i looked through more of their photos, finding each of their individual accounts. i hit follow on each of them. luke, calum, michael, and ashton. i spent hours looking at their photos. especially ashton’s. he was cute, really, really cute. and he was a drummer? god how am i going to survive meeting them and spending days with ashton around me?

i prayed to have the strength to not want to bite on his arms. he just looked so delicious, lord help me i haven’t even met the man yet and i’m fantasizing about him. i closed my phone, trying to forget about ashton for the time being.

i finished packing up all my clothes, and threw a few items into my carryon bag. i prepared for bed, climbing in under my covers. as i closed my eyes, my mind ran back to ashton. i sighed, forcing myself to sleep.

———

harry woke me up early, dragging me out of my room. i grabbed my suitcase and phone, throwing on a pair of my shoes. harry locked the door as we left the house, walking us both to the car. we were all meeting at whatever company owned the tour busses. you’d think i knew by now, but i never cared enough to look.

sitting in the passenger seat, i started drifting back to sleep. what felt like just a few seconds later, harry was once again shaking my shoulder to wake me up. we got out of the car, grabbing our things. walking over to the busses, i saw all the boys standing around. i waved to niall as he saw my tired expression, laughing at my messy hair.

i rubbed my eyes, flipping him off. “alright folks, the one direction boys will be in this bus here,” someone directed. “and the 5 seconds of summers boys over there.”

“what about me?” i questioned. “well there’s space left in the bus with the 5sos boys, so you’ll stay with them.” the voice directed. i was too tired to argue. i didn’t want to be alone with people i didn’t know yet, but i also didn’t want to stand around arguing when i could easily be sleeping. i set my suitcase with the others, keeping my carryon bag with me, having a few essentials in there with me.

the boys climbed into the bus, me following behind closely. “i’m going back to sleep, no one bother me until i’m awake. i’m aware this is a bad first impression but i’ve only gotten three hours of sleep.” i spoke, walking to the bunks. i chose the one closest to the floor, sliding in. i pulled the hood of my sweater up, falling back asleep.

i woke up to the sound of loud laughing. i checked the time on my phone. 12pm. my eyes widened. i didn’t sleep that long, did i? i slid out of my bed, watching that i didn’t hit my head on the frame above me. i rubbed my eyes before running my fingers through my hair to try and fix it a bit.

i didn’t bother to change out of my large sweater and the small pair of shorts that were hidden underneath. i walked out into the lounging area, squinting at the brightness from the sun. “well good morning sunshine!” calum joked. i smiled shyly.

“sorry i slept in so long, i didn’t realize i would wake up at twelve pm.” i laughed lightly. i glanced around the room looking for a place to sit. i sat myself down next to ashton, seeing his face turn a light shade of red. “don’t worry about it. we were waiting for you to wake up so we could get to know you more though.” luke said, chuckling.

“well, what do you want to know?” i smiled. the boys looked at each other shrugging. “favorite song at the moment?” michael asked. i tapped my chin, thinking about it. “hm, probably your guys’ song, good girls.” i answered. calum smiled wide. “really? you listened to our stuff?” he asked. i nodded my head.

“looked you guys up last night after harry told me last minute i was coming with him on tour and that you lovely boys were the openers. i followed you all last night. maybe stalked a page or two.” i said, looking towards ashton. i winked at him, letting him know i was talking about him. his eyes went wide and he turned his face away so i couldn’t see him blushing.

“awww look at ashton all blushy!” michael teased, leaning from his seat to poke at ash. i giggled softly. i stood up from my seat, stretching as i did so. my sweater lifted up to show my shorts and the beginning of my stomach.

“cool bellybutton ring!” luke said, noticing the jewel hanging from my naval. “thanks!” i smiled, lifting my sweater to show the other boys as they leaned in. ashton was mesmerized by my whole look. i smirked knowingly. “well, i’m gonna go get changed, if you need anything, knock!” i said as i walked to back part of the bus. i got an okay from two of the boys, knowing ashton wasn’t paying attention.

as i closed the door, i heard ashton speak up. “where’d she go to?” i could practically hear the boys smirk when they responded to him. “i dunno ash, go check maybe?” luke suggested.

i had taken off my sweater and shorts, leaving me in just my lacy red panties. i grabbed my carry on bag and pulled out a few things. as i set them out on the table, i heard the door slide open, then close quickly with a slam.

“oh my god y/n i am so sorry! i didn’t know you were changing!” i heard ash yell from behind the door. i walked over. sliding the door open the slightest bit. “i told you all i was going to change. you’re a little dirty boy huh? wanted to see me get changed?” i teased. he grew bright red as he watched me. i grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room.

i slid the door closed and leaned back against it. he looked up at the ceiling, down at the floor, anywhere but me. “you can look, ash. i know you want to.” i smirked. he lifted his eyes up to look at my body.

i could hear his breath hitch as he turned around and sat on one of the chairs. “what’s wrong ashton? cat got your tongue?” i poked, walking to where he was. he was bouncing his leg like there was no tomorrow. i noticed the large bulge in his pants and my eyes widened slightly.

i grabbed his hand softly, brining it up to my chest. he gasped and shifted in his spot. “need help darling?” i spoke softly, lowering myself to my knees. i crawled in front of him, putting my hands on his thighs.

“is this alright?” i asked, rubbing my hands up and down, getting closer to his dick. “more than alright, it’s amazing, it’s ohh~” he moaned lightly as i grabbed him through his jeans. he tilted his head back, running his hands through his hair.

i played with the button on his jeans, pulling it apart before pulling down his zipper. he lifted his hips to let me slid his jeans down. “you’re so big ash. don’t know if i can handle it.” i whimpered, looking up at him through my lashes with big eyes. he groaned as he watched me, hand snaking to my neck and into my hair.

i grabbed his dick out of his boxers, sliding my thumb over his tip, collecting the pre-cum that gathered. his breathing got heavier as i licked a stripe up his cock, taking him into my mouth. i moaned around him, cause him to buck his hips towards me.

i slowly let more of him into my mouth, eventually going down my throat. i bobbed my head and swallowed around him, feeling him twitch in my throat. “god it’s so good~ need to cum baby.” he whined, grip tightening on my hair, guiding my mouth on his dick.

the beautiful gasps and soft moans from him made me wetter by the minute. “fuck!” he thrusted his hips farther into my throat. i could feel as his cum trickled down my throat. i pulled away and smiled at him. “tasted so good.” i praised.

suddenly his confidence skyrocketed as he grasped the sides of my throat, lightly squeezing. i moaned at the sudden move, enjoying how it felt. “be a good girl and ride me baby.” he groaned. i pulled my panties off before straddling his lap.

he guided his tip to my entrance, teasing me. “so wet huh baby? all this for me?” he smirked. i nodded my head. “use your words.” he demanded. i moaned as he continued to slid himself between my folds.

“just for you ash.” i whimpered. he softly chuckled. “good girl.” he praised. he pushed my hips down onto him quickly, causing me to gasp. “fuck ash!” he guided my hips as he reached deep inside me. “so good ash, love your cock inside me.” i cried, burying my face in his neck.

i took the opportunity to bite and nip at his skin, causing him to groan. he continued fucking up into me as my moans started getting louder. he slid his thumb into my mouth to quiet me. i sucked at him as i did just mere minutes ago.

i popped his finger out and went back to his neck, leaving dark purple marks all over his neck and collarbones. “god you feel so good around me baby.” he panted. i nodded into his shoulder, still gasping for air.

“fuck ashton i’m so close!” i yelped as he hit my g spot. “fuck! oh my god! i’m gonna cum!” i moaned into his shoulder. i clenched around him, loving the feeling of him so deep.

“harder ash, i’m almost there!” i begged. he grabbed my hips and pounded into me. he covered my mouth as i started screaming from pleasure.

not long after, ashton pulled out and came again too. i sat on his lap, still panting. “that was,” “fucking amazing? i agree.” i cut him off.

“we’ve gotta do that again, y/n.”

“i’ve got my own hotel room..” i trailed off.

“i’ll meet you there.”

#5 seconds of summer #5sos5 #ashton irwin #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford #ashton irwin imagines

[gretavanfleetposts]

Just a little horny thought I had that ended up being way longer than just a thought:

It was the sound of your name being breathed out in the faintest of moans that you were following through the tour bus in search of who had said it. But even hardly the whisper it had been, you knew who it had sounded like.

When you finally found Josh, you could barely see his face from where you stood in the doorway, his head thrown back into the pillow in his bunk as his arm strained over something. His eyes were wound tightly shut, his mouth gaped open, and his face wore a look of absolute bliss, flushed red and hot. Your eyes followed the movements of the muscle in his shoulder, down over his exposed bicep that flexed as it bobbed, until it disappeared behind the curtain and as you watched his chest raise and heard your name at his lips yet again, you knew without seeing behind the curtain what he was doing.

The sight alone of his lips parted in pleasure traveled straight between your thighs, but when your name passed those lips, it was enough to propel you forward before you even had a chance to stop yourself.

"Josh?" you called softly, not wanting to startle him as you approached.

You watched as he frantically moved to cover himself with his blanket the moment he locked eyes with you and realized he wasn't alone, shooting into an upright position as he cursed under his breath. "I didn't think anyone was on the bus yet."

"It's just me; I was looking for my lucky guitar pick that Sam stole."

You moved to sit on the edge of his bunk despite how uneasy he looked as he held the blanket up to his chest, his face more red with embarrassment.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," you continued in a whisper before you put him out of his misery and took his chin between your fingers, pulling his mouth to yours.

He was hesitant for only a fraction of a second before he was kissing you back, gentle at first, his lips barely parting. But it quickly turned needy as you pressed into him, your lips meeting with a bruising force. You felt the vibration of a hum as you deepened the kiss and his hands finally found the courage to move from their hold on the blanket to take your face between them.

Your own hands worked the blanket down his chest slowly until the hem reached his hips and you broke the kiss.

"May I?"

He nodded, his eyes lidded with lust as he watched, afraid that if he moved he might realize this was a dream. But it wasn't a dream when you took him by the jaw again to kiss him deeply as your other hand threw the blanket back the rest of the way. There, your hands traveled up his thigh, a whimper escaping his lips that you swallowed down as your fingertips found his cock, throbbing and angry as it laid against his stomach twitching with an ache to be touched.

You wasted no time wrapping your hand tightly around him to give him a few slow strokes, watching him with a smile as he broke the kiss to throw his head back.

"Fuck, y/n," he moaned as his eyes fell shut again.

He was nothing short of breathtaking that way, his chest covered in a thin slick of sweat, the veins in his neck pulsing quickly and matching the uneven cadence of his breath, and his mouth letting escape the unholiest of sounds while your hand began to stroke him faster.

"I'm so close," he whimpered as he raised his head to watch you intently. "I'm not-I'm not gonna last long."

His head shook as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, pulling on a look of concentration. But you soothed him with a gentle click of your tongue and a hand on his chest as you pushed him back into the bed.

"It's okay, sweet boy. I want you to cum for me," you urged as you worked your hand faster along his length, twisting gently around the head on each upstroke.

He fought to keep his gaze on you before he lost entirely and his eyes rolled back, one hand gripping your wrist hard enough to leave a mark as the other gripped the pillow under his head.

"Shit, yes, just like that, keep-"

He hasn't even finished his sentence by the time he was spilling into your hand and his abdomen, a loud moan accompanied by your name tearing its way through his throat. His body practically vibrated as he came back down, finding your eyes again while he struggled to regain his breath.

You gave him an easy smile that he matched with one a bit more tired before a chuckle fell from his lips and he fell back into the mattress.

"That was…God, that was amazing," he breathed, his hand still wrapped around his wrist but without the crusading force as his thumb strikes the delicate skin.

You couldn't help but chuckle back.

"Sorry I walked in on you."

His smile widened. "I think all is forgiven."

#josh kiszka #gvf

[fuck-customers]

Have any of you guys had a manager/coworker that you were honestly fine with, but everyone else hated and you can't figure out why?

So I've been through 3 store managers in my time working at my current company and the first 2 were HELL CUNTS, just absolutely horrible. And the current manager is fine. Tolerable at worst, nice at best.

A small summary of SM #1:

-screamed at me in front of an entire store of coworkers and customers and physically pushed me out of his way when he wanted to use the store computer, but I was using it first

-would schedule me for recovery/go-backs and would lecture me for not being able to finish them all in my 4 hour shift and blame me personally to the rest of the store. Was later told by a coworker that she would see him go around the store and grab random items off the shelves and throw them in a cart to create another "go-backs cart"

-would assign me one task and then take me off task A to do task B and then take me off task B to do task C, etc etc etc and I was never able to finish anything and then would throw me under the bus to other managers and claimed I didn't do any work

-would ask me to come in for a shift on my day off and when I showed up to the store to clock in, he would ask why I was at the store and either pretend like he didn't call me in or pretend like he "forgot" to tell me that he already got coverage

-just generally would talk down to me and belittle me as if I were a small child or an animal

-there's probably more, but I probably blocked it out so I could continue going to work without going on a rampage

SM #2:

-was only there for a little over a year, but fired/forced all my coworker friends to quit

-would gaslight me about anything and everything; store policies, things she said, things other managers said, etc.

-also would assign multiple tasks at the same time and refuse to let me complete one

-hired new people left and right and then refused to train them so the new employees didn't know how to do anything and made more work for everyone else

-waited until after 5:00 on Saturday, the last day of the work week to post the schedule for the next week and then revised it multiple times throughout the week each week so no one ever knew when they were working

-regularly changed my schedule to cut my hours and then would attempt to call me in throughout the week + would cut a shift and then try to get me to come in for a different shift on the same day after revising the schedule to give me that day off

-scheduled people, but mostly me, 3 hour shifts so she wouldn't legally have to give them a paid break

-most importantly, fabricated a fake story to attempt to get me fired for a fake EEOC complaint, which would've effectively ruined my entire future

The current SM:

-is a little bit ditzy/spacey

-is wound a little tight/is a little bit neurotic

-???

-That's about it?? Almost every employee hates her and I cannot figure out why. I suspect that the previous SM (SM #2) is somehow involved, since every current employee other than me and 2 other people (who also don't mind her) was hired by SM #2. None of them have given me any reasons that make any sense. She was a little bit snippy with them? Ok? She didn't yell at them in front of customers or call them names or swear at them. They claimed that she made the store messy/disorganized, when she had only been here less than a week and the previous SM #2 didn't do any recovery or cleaning of the store for a year. One of the complaints I heard literally imo translated to "she asked me to do my job" Like, I also don't like to do my job, but that's what a manager is supposed to do. Tell you to do your job. One of my leads and a small group of employees have banded together and decided they wanted to report her to HR and get her fired. Because of the above mentioned "incidents" (I don't think they actually submitted the report though. Or if they did, HR looked at it and laughed and threw it away)

Posted by admin Rodney.

[blackwood4stucky]

of spies and sunshine | aspen blackwood

lloyd hansen x nick fowler | gray man x 355 fusion au

masterpost | mini playlist

🆃 | word count: 750 | complete

The paralytic was slow-acting but Nick could feel it working. The feeling in his lower extremities went first. It was one thing to see his legs, to know that they were there but it was disconcerting not being able to move them without outside influences. Mace and her merry band of idiots had left mere moments before, the promise of his impending abduction before being tossed into a black site still ringing in his ears. He knew he had to act fast but that was clearly impossible with that damn snake venom sinking its fangs into his veins. A short burst of vibration from his back pocket alerted him that his phone was still on his person. Anger burned through him at not being able to use it. His hands twitched in vain as he tried to move them but he had no such luck. So there he sat, alone in his condo, waiting for that supposed low dose of poison to reach his heart. He knew regardless of who was coming to take him away, the reality was that he would be long dead before anyone could do anything about it.

The loud bang of someone kicking a door in startled him, but his body remained in a state of forced calm. He could only blink in confusion when a single man in tac gear and a mask slowly checked the living room with a silenced gun in his hand. He tried to speak but only the gurgling in his throat could be heard. He could only watch as the man then raced toward him before feeling around his thighs. He looked on in horror as the man dropped his gun only to replace it with a handheld device with a thick needle attached. Without any warning, he felt the sharp point pierce its way into his right thigh. He breathed out shallowly in relief as some kind of cool fluid was released into the thick muscle. The movement in his hands came back first before what he knew now was the antidote froze out any and all traces of the venom in his system. Groaning, he keeled over into the mysterious intruder’s embrace. It was then that he registered words being whispered into his ear.

“You’re alright, sunshine. I’ve got you.”

Nick stiffened slightly, he knew that voice. He also knew that only one person dared to call him by that stupid little nickname. “Lloyd?”

“You back with me, sugar?”

Pulling back to look at the man he hadn’t seen in weeks, confusion marred his features. “What are you doing here?”

“You really think I was going to leave you here to be whisked away to fuckin’ Timbuctoo or some shit?” Lloyd bit out. 

“How did you even—

“Know?” Lloyd asked, cutting him off. “Baby, I’ve been bugging your apartments since the last time you left me.”

Nick’s eyes narrowed at the pet name, he was no one’s baby. “I told you not to call me that.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, so you keep reminding me sunshine. You could be though, my baby that is, if you stopped fuckin’ around with that bitch and let a real man like me take care of you.”

A laugh bubbled out of his throat at that. Lloyd was a piece of work but for some reason, he just kept crawling back to him. Perhaps it was the third leg the man had hidden in his pants.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing.” Lloyd rolled his eyes. “I warned you about Mace and yet you went after her like a damn fool. She threw me under the bus one time and I kicked her ass to the curb. Haven’t looked back since.”

“I guess this is your way of saying ‘I told you so’?” Nick asked as he flexed his hands before bracing himself against Lloyd to try and stand.

“Of course not, sunshine. Just that we should never share exes again and you should probably kill her on site the next time you see her. Whatever you two had was toxic anyway.”

“I guess now you’re going to try and convince me that we should also be on again,” he said trailing his freshly moveable hand up Lloyd’s chest.

“I thought that was obvious, baby. This on again off again shit is for losers!”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he looked up at Lloyd through his lashes before mumbling against the crazy man’s lips. “I may have missed you a little…”

#lloyd hansen x nick fowler #lloyd fics #nick fowler fanfiction #gray man x 355 au #vignette #loosely written #writeblr #may or may not make this a full fic #flash fiction #handsomeflowers #hansenfowler #hansenfowler fanfiction

[whitehotharlots]

Free Kareem

Kareem Hunt was probably the shittiest MeToo incident of the sports world. It happened over 4 years ago, which is an eternity by the standards of the today’s discourse, so let me recap what happened:

In February of 2018, two of Hunt’s friends went to a club while he stayed behind with his girlfriend in their hotel suite. The friends returned around 3 AM, and they had two very drunk and underage girls with them. Hunt did the correct thing: he told the girls to leave and had them escorted out of his suite.

The girls refused to leave. They stood outside Hunt’s suite for a half hour, screaming, failing, and pounding on the door. We know for certain this happened, because it was all captured on a security camera (full footage of this does exist, I’ve seen it, but Google has a way of burying primary evidence that contradicts popular narratives).

After approximately 20 minutes of screaming, Hunt’s girlfriend comes out of the suite to tell the girls to leave. This only intensifies the screaming and flailing. After a minute or so, one of the girls can be seen shoving Hunt’s girlfriend, who maintains her composure and goes back into the suite.

A few more minutes pass. The girls continue to pound and scream. Hunt himself comes out of the suite. He gestures toward the exit. The girls keep screaming. The same one who shoved his girlfriend now shoves Hunt. Again, he points toward the exit. The girl shoves him again, and he shoves her back, knocking her to the ground.

At this point, all but the most brain-damaged of feminists would agree that Hunt has done nothing wrong. But then he crosses a line: he raises his leg, hesitates, and gives the girl a kick, as if to accentuate that she needed to get her ass up and out of his hallway.

Now, yes, he should not have done the kick. Fine. But if you watch full video, it’s clear that he did not kick with anywhere near full force. It was more of a gesture than anything else. And, well, if an NFL running back were to kick a small woman with anything close full strength, that woman would not be able to get up and walk away.

I hold the retrograde opinions that men should be afforded some degree of dignity, and that random white women are not legally or morally entitled to enter the dwellings of black celebrities without permission. If I were the one to adjudicate this incident, I would have told the girl to go fuck herself. There’s really nothing Hunt could have done in this situation that would have escaped scrutiny. It was clear that the girl was unhinged and fully aware that she could manipulate MeToo discourse to force the black man to bend to her will: “Kareem Hunt Caught With Underage Girls Drunk in His Hotel Room” is also a bad headline, after all.

But, no, the headlines that were printed did not mention the girls’ intrusion, their initiation of physical contact with both Hunt and his girlfriend, or their statements to hotel staff about planning to exaggerate their claims so as to ruin Hunt’s career. 

9 months later, when TMZ released a very selectively edited expert of the footage, the headline read KC CHIEFS RUNNING BACK KAREEM HUNT BRUTALIZES AND KICKS WOMAN IN HOTEL VIDEO. At this point, his goose was cooked. The Chiefs threw him under the bus with alacrity, saying they weren’t going to bother digging into the specifics of the incident because they had already been contacted and Hunt (very, very understandably and justifiably) lied and said he never left the hotel room. This technicality was enough to end his tenure on the team. He was consigned to the living hell of the Cleveland Browns organization, and suspended for the first half of the following season. 

The average career in the NFL lasts just over three seasons. Running backs play the most physically taxing position in all of professional sports. The loss of a half season of pay is a massive, massive fine. But, still, that wasn’t good enough. The Root (a black-focused, Gawker-affiliated website that would have the exact same editorial content if it were owned by the KKK) ran the following headline “Cleveland Browns Sign Kareem Hunt Despite Video of Him Assaulting Woman. Kaepernick Still Banned for Kneeling.” From Vice we got “Kareem Hunt and a Sports World that Ignores Domestic Violence Victims:” a headline confirming the girls’ entitlement to a space in Hunt’s living area, regardless of not being invited and also being repeatedly told to leave. From Yahoo Sports “NFL should leave you feeling sick after recent revelations involving Kareem Hunt, Reuben Foster,” comparing Hunt to a man who appears to have actually committed domestic violence on multiple occasions. When Hunt was eventually signed by the Browns--which, again, is a punishment in and of itself--the President of the National Organization of Women used the occasion to claim that “women do not matter to the NFL,” and once more repeated the bizarre claim that he had committed “intimate partner violence” by shoving and kicking a stranger who had shoved him first. 

This, dear reader, is Intersectionality as it actually exists. It is not liberation. It is not leftist. It does not even provide protection to the groups who supposedly fall under its purview. The only goal of this wretched political movement is to divorce a person’s actions from the judgments of outsiders, to establish a hierarchy of NGO-defined victimhood statuses and provide hack journalists with a simple and unchallenagable means of sorting out the good guys from the bad guys. 

It’s not justice. It’s not an improvement over old systems. It’s a new way of being broken. It is, in short, the entirety of the modern American left.

[faofinn]

No.10 "Can't you see that you're lost without me?"

@whumptober-archive

Broken Phone | Stranded | "You said you'd never leave."

The bus had just pulled in when Finn's stomach flipped. He'd been feeling off the whole bus ride, but he'd hoped to get home before anything happened. The flip just cemented he couldn't wait. 

He tugged on Fao’s hand, pulling his brother off the bus. He let go of his hand as he stepped down, grabbing at the safety railings. His stomach spasmed and he retched, losing his breakfast on the pavement. Fao was meant to be behind him, but he could hear him talking nervously to the driver. There were raised voices and the distinct sound of the doors closing. He glanced at his brother, panic and guilt in his eyes.

Fao rubbed Finn's back. "It's alright. We'll get the next one when you're feeling a bit better."

He shook his head, his knees giving out as he reached desperately for him. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you, I’m here.” Fao said, gripping him as his knees went, helping him to the floor. 

Finn was vacant as Fao settled him down, coming back to himself with a whine a he scrubbed his eyes. Something wasn't right, but he couldn't work it out. 

“It’s okay. Do you think you’re going to seize?” 

He frowned at him, confused. He knew he wasn't feeling right and he still wasn't even speaking English. 

“Alright, okay.” Fao squeezed his shoulder, then pulled off his hoodie to ball it up, giving Finn somewhere to rest his head. “Lay down?”

"No." He pulled away, not wanting to lie on the ground. He was already cold, it would only make it worse. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Finn shoved at Fao's hands. It wasn't okay. None of it was okay. 

“Finn, look at me? It’s alright. Just breathe.”

He fell backwards, his body going limp. He was still aware as Fao tried to help him, fear in his eyes as he struggled to regain any control. 

Fao helped him down, careful he didn’t hit his head as he went down. “That’s it, I’ve got you. It’s gonna be okay.”

Finn batted at Fao, grumbling. He was cold and scared and Fao wasn't helping. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”

It wasn't long before Finn started to seize, Fao making sure his head was okay. They were sort of used to him seizing in unfavourable places, but the small crowd it drew was never welcome. 

As Fao tried to get a timer started, Finn caught his arm and sent his phone to the floor, where it landed on a stone, the screen completely shattered when he picked it up. 

“Fuck’s sake, Finn.” He grumbled under his breath. He’d have to use his watch then, and hope for the best in terms of timing. He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to call an ambulance if he needed one now. 

Four minutes ticked over, and his seizure showed no sign of stopping. He'd bitten his tongue, as he always did, the blood collecting on his lips. His breathing wasn't as bad as it could be, but he was drenched in sweat and clearly exhausted. 

As the time ticked on, Fao got more and more worried, Finn clearly showing signs of struggling. Fao dug around in his bag for the Midaz, relieved to find it quickly. Five minutes came and went, and Finn showed no signs of stopping. Fao gave it, holding his breath as he waited for his brother to stop, getting him on his side a little in an effort to clear his airway. 

Finn coughed, his seizure finally stopping. He spat the blood he could out, letting it dribble down his cheek. Fao's hoodie was folded under his head, a wrinkle pressing on his ear and all too uncomfortable. He whined, trying to get away from it, confused and disoriented. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.”

Fao. He forced his eyes open, though immediately whined at the bright light. Tears fell immediately but he was too uncoordinated to scrub them away. He stuck his tongue out, looking for Fao to fix it.

“I know, you bit your tongue. It’s okay.” Fao soothed, struggling to get his phone to work, and succeeding only to cut his finger. 

He couldn't work out his words, but knew he wanted Fao. He threw his arm in Fao's direction trying to get his attention. 

Fao took his hand. “I’m here, I’m here.”

He nodded, pulling Fao's hand closer. He tapped at him, eyes closing. 

“You’re okay. Had a seizure, but it’s okay.” Fao reassured, tapping back. Some people had gathered, though a few had wandered off, and he looked up, hating that he had to do this. “Has anyone called an ambulance? I need to borrow a phone.”

There was a little hesitation, but one of the crowd stepped forward, a look of disgust as she saw Finn. "They're on the phone now."

“Can I have it?” Fao asked. “I have more information to give them.”

"Uh, sure. Here." She held it out, pulling her hand quickly away, as if she was afraid of catching something. 

Fao chose not to respond to that, but took the phone and pressed it to his ear with his good hand. “Hi?”

"Hello, it's the ambulance service. Am I speaking to the patient?"

“No, his brother. A member of the public called you, but I wanted to give more information. His name is Finn, he’s a 16 year old epileptic from a TBI, he’s had a grand mal seizure which failed to stop after five minutes, so he’s had his rescue dose of midazolam. He’s coming round slowly now.”

"Ah, that's very helpful, thank you. You said he's known epileptic, yeah? Would he normally have his rescue meds or is this out of the ordinary for him?"

“It’s fairly normal for him, but he’s often prone to a second seizure after the first.”

"Okay. What's his breathing like now?"

“Better than when he was seizing, but it’s not great.”

"Okay. Can you place a hand on his chest and let me know when he takes a breath.?"

Fao hummed. “His resp rate is on the low side and kind of irregular, but I’m not overly worried about it, he’s normally like this when he’s postictal.” He did gently rest his hand on Finn’s chest, feeling how it rose and fell with each breath.

They got through three breaths before he stopped, his low groan his telltale sign of another seizure. His shoulder clunked out of place as he postured, his knee quickly following suit.

Fao sighed. “Yeah, he’s going to seize again, he’s just dislocated his shoulder and maybe his knee?” He murmured, turning his attention to his brother. “You’re okay Finn, it’s okay. I’m here.” Fao soothed. “I know you’re busy but how long? His second is usually worse than his first.”

"Oh, he's seizing again? The ambulance isn't far away, you should be able to hear them in a bit. They're about two minutes away."

“Okay.” He mumbled. 

Finn coughed and retched, unable to protect his own airway as he vomited. It had recently become a worrying side effect from the midaz, but they'd had hope that it would go back to normal, and they wouldn't have to change. His other shoulder slipped too, the all too familiar noise loud in the silence.

Fao winced, hating that Finn was struggling with the midaz, the drug that was supposed to be their hail mary. Despite the other shoulder clunking out of place, he had no choice but to properly shove him onto his side, protecting his airway as best he could with what he had with him, which was nothing. This had been a lot easier when Finn was little. Now he was 16 and finally starting to grow into himself, it was hard. He went through phases putting on bulk, but he was still lanky as anything, making it even more difficult. Fao was strong, he had to be for work and the Army, but a dead weight like a seizing Finn was hard, especially on your knees on the cold pavement. 

The ambulance wasn't long, dumping their kit by Fao and Finn. "What's been happening?"

Fao looked up, relieved to see the paramedics. “Hi. This is finn, he’s 16, epileptic from a TBI at 10. He had one seizure about ten minutes ago, lasted just over 6 minutes, had midazolam at 5 and it stopped, but when I was on the phone he went again, He’s dislocated both shoulders and I think maybe his knee as well, not unusual for him though, he’s hypermobile. He’s really prone to going into status, and he’s vomited as well as bitten his tongue.” 

"How long has this one been going for? Take it he wasn't fully awake?" One asked, the other sorting his airways. They started attempting to gain access too, wanting to give more medication.

“Uh, I’m not sure exactly. Two minutes? Not fully awake, but awake enough to recognise me.”

"That's okay, you’re doing really well." 

His colleague spoke up. "Hey, can you hold his arm down? I think there's a vein here."

“He’s usually a decent stick, even when he’s seizing.” Fao said, shifting a little to help the best he could. 

He was, as usual, quite easy to cannulate. The diazepam was given quickly, and they held their breath, hoping he'd stop. While one stayed with Finn, the other disappeared to get the stretcher.

“Come on Finn, you can do it.”

The diazepam finally did its job, leaving Finn still on the ground. He groaned quietly, stretching his legs out. There was a thunk as his knee slipped again, thankfully back into place. His shoulders were agony, though, breaking through the sedation and pulling his brows into a frown.

“Well done, you’re okay.” Fao soothed him. “It’s okay.”

"What is he normally like after the diazepam?" They asked softly. "Does he normally struggle?"

“A little, yeah.” Fao said. “He’s quite touch averse, especially when he’s in pain and overwhelmed. So just go slowly with him if you can. He likes soft things, and he’s always cold, so blankets are appreciated. You’ll know when he’s starting to come round more because he’ll protest oxygen like it’s going to kill him, no matter how bad his sats. Nasal is better than a mask when you can get away with it, but he’s not happy unless it’s nothing at all.”

They smiled softly. "You can tell how much you love him, y’know? But that's all appreciated. If we do anything you think we shouldn't, or if we should be and we're not, just give us a shout, yeah?"

Fao managed a laugh. “He’ll soon make it clear if you shouldn’t have done something.” He said lightly. “But of course I’ll let you know. He’s a soft shite really, just gets aggy when he’s confused.”

"It's completely understandable." 

Finn retched, interrupting their conversation. He dislodged the adjunct, pulling his face across Fao's hoodie to pull the mask off too. 

The medic laughed. "You weren't wrong. Finn, you're alright, Kiddo. Let me sort that for you, eh?" They took the OP from him, adjusting the mask back on his face. "How's that, mm? Better?"

Finn squinted at them, nothing making sense. Fao's slight movement pulled his attention, and he groaned at him, his mind too fuzzy for words.

“You’re okay.” Fao soothed, stroking through his hair. “You’re alright.”

Fao's comfort was nice, and he leaned into it. He let his eyes close, giving a heavy sigh.

“That’s it, rest.” Fao told him gently. “We’ve got you.”

The other medic returned with the stretcher, and a few blankets. He pushed it as close as he could get to them, then knelt by Finn’s side.

"How we getting on?"

"He's coming around a bit, still groggy. We'll go slowly, he's gonna be in pain with those shoulders, and after two doses, he's gonna be feeling shit."

“Let me know what I can do to help, yeah? I’m, uh, an F2 doc up in Birmingham.”

"Oh, yeah?" He smiled. "Probably should have done our jobs, eh?"

Fao looked almost embarrassed. “Figured I’d leave it to the professionals.”

"Let me know when they get here, eh?" He joked. 

He managed a smile. “Ah, you guys are far better than me.”

"We always appreciate the compliment." He gave Fao a smile. "Right, then. Let's try and get him on this stretcher, then we can get in the warmth. Finn? Finn, can you open your eyes?"

The hand on his thigh nudged him, and he pulled a face to try and focus on him. They wanted him sitting up, to then be able to lie back down. He wasn't entirely sure, but he nodded.

Fao moved closer. “I’ve got you, yeah? We’ll do it together.” Fao said, gently. “This was easier when you were a kid, good job the Army keeps me fit, eh? These guys are gonna help you sit up. It’s gonna suck, but it won’t take long, and I’m here too.”

"Tell you what, since you've got your shoulders causing these problems, we'll put this sheet behind you, then we can use that instead, yeah?"

“Yeah, much easier, eh?” Fao said, nodding to his brother. “Mum tells me off for doing my shoulders in playing rugby, but you’re the worst for it. It’s because you’re the favourite child, never getting in trouble.”

Finn didn't reply, but watched his brother carefully. He tried a few times to find his words, but he couldn’t make them work properly. He looked at Fao, struggling. 

"Help."

“You’re okay. We’re helping, promise.”

That's not what he wanted. "Help."

“How do you want me to help, Finn?”

He scowled at him. "Out."

“We’re gonna get you up, yeah? Get you off the floor, you just need to sit up with us.”

"No." What wasn't Fao getting? Tears threatened to fall, but he couldn't do anything about it, his arms not under his control. 

Fao considered for a minute, trying to work out what Finn meant. “Your shoulders are out, yeah. You had a seizure. We’ll get it sorted soon, I promise.”

It shouldn't have been that hard and he huffed. "Help."

“Yeah, soon. We’ll get you into the ambulance and help there, okay?”

"No."

The medic frowned. "Finn? Your shoulders dislocated, yeah? We can’t put them back without going to hospital, but I can give you some pain relief. Would you want that?"

“Painkillers will help, yeah?” Fao said, nodding. 

Finn nodded too. They were almost there, had almost caught up. 

“Let’s get you some of that, then.” One of the medics said. 

Fao knew what Finn wanted now, but with the medics around, he wasn’t going to be able to. “I can’t put them back for you, not here.” Fao told his brother softly. “Wait until hospital, okay?”

"No." He whined. 

“I’m not allowed.”

"Please."

“I’m sorry Finn.”

"What's wrong?"

“He’s, uh, he’s really prone to dislocations. Usually when they’re uncomplicated I’ll reduce them for him.” Fao said softly. 

Finn nodded. "Help."

They sighed. "It's not something we'd recommend normally. Obviously, you know yourself, you can do more damage than good if you don't know what you're doing. If we weren't here, you weren't needing to go to hospital, what would you do?"

“Well, I wouldn’t be super happy doing both, honestly, but I’m not worried about fractures, they weren’t traumatic. If I was at home with him after a ‘normal’ seizure, he’s usually good at letting me get them back in.” Fao said softly. “I don’t want to get you guys in any trouble though, and he needs to go to hospital any way.”

"They probably get put back in when you sit him up, yeah?"

“Yeah, sometimes.”

"So, if we were to get him some pain relief, that would make it easier for him. What do you think, Finn? Can get you some entonox? Maybe some morphine?"

“He does well with morphine. I don’t know if his brain is working well enough to get the benefit from the entonox.”

Finn gave Fao a glare,a look that said everything, and the medic laughed. "I'm not sure he's firing on 100, but I'd say he's doing alright. I'll get you some morphine, some ondansetron too, and then when we're sitting you up, you can have the entonox, yeah? But you'll have to just hold it in your mouth. Sound okay?"

Finn nodded, but panicked and looked to Fao. Was it? 

“Yeah, that’s okay. It works well. All these drugs that I can’t have that work great for you, hmm? Favourite child.” Fao teased. 

Finn grinned, a small laugh escaping. He fought his words for a few moments, frowning and growing frustrated. "Your fault."

“I’m so bad I make you look like an angel, eh?”

He shook his head. "Not saved, no competition." 

“Don’t be daft.”

His grin was mischievous, Finn couldn't help it.

“Don’t grin at me like that.”

"Is true."

“You’re an idiot.”

#whumptober 2023 #No.10 “Can't you see that you're lost without me?” #broken phone #stranded #oc #fic #faolan blackwood #finn daniels #seizure fic #seizure in a public place #midazolam #stuck at a bus stop #whump writing #whump prompt #whump of a minor #bless finn he's a sweetie #traumatic brain injury #tbi #epilepsy #ambulance #multiple seizures

[final-girl96]

STOLEN HEARTS CHAPTER ONE

Description

☆

☆

☆

☆

April 18, 1984

"Hey there, little viper." I looked up to see my dad walking into the kitchen. His long curly hair is a tangled mess and he had dark circles under his eyes from being up late. "I'm not little anymore, dad." He kissed the top of my head and went right for the coffee. "You'll always be my little viper no matter how old you get," he said, turning around and leaving back on the counter, coffee mug in his hand.

"You were up late," I said, taking a bite of my cereal. He hummed, nodding his head and taking a sip from his mug. "Yeah, I've been working on some new songs." My dad probably had the coolest job a parent could have, he was a rockstar. I mean sure it was a little rough with also being out on the road on tour all the time.

I didn't go to a regular school, instead I was homeschooled. So that means I never had friends or a boyfriend. Hell, I've never been kissed before. But it was great too because I've gotten to travel the world. There was a rough patch when I was really little, when my mom passed away. My dad started drinking and doing drugs and having sex with any women who threw themselves at him. Leaving me with a nanny to go out and party every night after a sold out concert.

But he's always been a great dad. Always made sure I had what I needed and never gave me what I wanted. After his last world tour he decided to take a break from touring not only because he was tired but he wanted me to have a normal high school experience. So we moved to a town in the middle of fucking nowhere. Hawkins Indiana, my dad's hometown, where he was discovered almost eighteen years ago.

He and my mom had me at a young age. They were fresh out of high school. Mom was seventee, and he was eighteen. He was playing gigs at a little hole in the wall bar called The Hideout, just trying to make money to support his family while they got ready to bring a baby into the world. He was discovered not long after I was born. The Blood Red Vipers was and still is a top of the charts rock band. "You sure you can handle a world tour after being on a break for four years, old man?"

"Old man?! I am only thirty-five thank you! And I've been ready to get back out there. Believe it or not I miss being crammed in a bus with four other guys," he said. I stood up, walking over to put my bowl in the sink. "You miss all the hot chicks screaming for you and throwing their nasty dirty underwear and bras on stage at you." He threw his head back and laughed. "Okay! Don't you have school?"

"Mm…unfortunately I do," I grumbled. "I'm sure your friends will be excited to see you," he said. I sighed and looked at him. "You know I don't have friends, dad." I walked past him and to the front entryway to get my bag. "You know and that concerns me. I moved us here so you could have a normal high school experience and make friends."

"Even if I did make friends they wouldn't be my friends. If everyone knew my dad was a famous rockstar they would only like me because of that. To be honest I'm surprised more people haven't figured it out." He had followed me to the front door and was now standing in front of me.

"Well, you don't talk to people and you look more like your mom than me. Plus, I wasn't popular in this town when I was your age. I got into a lot of trouble. And I made it a point to not be noticed, for you. Trust me I've been recognized by people I went to school with. This town isn't much for the whole rock and roll life. Just means you're bad news."

I stood in front of him with my head down. People didn't take much notice of me. I'm practically invisible to them. There were comments here and there from people about the way I dressed or how shy I am. I'm only shy around people I don't know. Once I'm comfortable around someone I'm more myself. Sarcastic, opinionated, goofy. I'm a kind person until I'm pushed too far then I'm a force to be reckoned with.

"Just try and have a good day at school. I'll see you when you get home." He pulled me into him, wrapping me in a hug. "I love you." I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged back. "I love you too, dad." He kissed the top of my head and pulled away. "Also, stop stealing all my damn shirts, you have your own!" I laughed looking down at the black faded Def Leppard shirt of his I stole. "Sharing is caring!" I said, walking out the door.

When I got to school I parked as far from anyone else as I could. I walked towards the school with my head down like always, avoiding eye contact with anyone. "Looks like someone went shopping in a dumpster again." I looked over to see Misty Everton laughing with her little friends, her boyfriend Chad Michelle beside her with his arm slung around her shoulders.

"Oh, hey Misty! Didn't I see you with Eric Cartmen yesterday after school making out in the backseat of his shitty car…again?" Her eyes widened and she snarled at me. "What's she talking about? You told me cheer practice was running late!" When she turned to look at him, that's when I made my way inside.

The day went by like every other day. Went to classes, sat alone at lunch, avoided people especially Misty's glares. Now I was in my last class, math, algebra to be exact. And although I had straight A's, I hated math just as much as everyone else. At the end of the class while I was packing up my stuff Ms. Alder called my name. "Yn, I need to talk to you about something, so please stay."

Oh god, it's never good when a teacher wants you to stay after class. I waited for everyone to leave before I approached her desk. "You wanted to speak to me?" She sat in her chair and sighed. "You're my best student, yn," she said. I shifted from one foot to the other. "Umm…okay. Did I do something wrong?" I asked.

She shook her head, "oh! No! No, you didn't do anything wrong. I have a student that isn't doing so well in my class. And in order for him to graduate this in June he needs to bring his grade up to at least a C minus. And right now he's failing. But if he can pass the next two tests and the final he will have the credits to graduate." I didn't know what this had to do with me. "Okay. Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"I was hoping that you might be able to tutor him if you have some free time. It will have to be for free unfortunately. He doesn't have the best home life. I mean his uncle does everything he can for him but they struggle. I think he has the potential to do something with his life. He just needs to graduate and get out of this town. If you can't do it I completely understand. I just thought I'd ask," she said.

Not being paid isn't really a big deal to me. But giving up my time to tutor someone. "Who is it?" I asked. She took a deep breath before answering. "I don't know if you know him since you're not in the same class but his name is Eddie. Eddie Munson."

Eddie Munson. Who doesn't know Eddie? They call him a freak and he's kind of hard to miss with the long, black, curly hair and his big mouth. He's constantly flirting with girls in the halls. Of course they act like he doesn't exist not wanting people to know they have a thing for the freak. I've seen him taking girls to his van after school when no one else was around. He's also into that game, Dungeons and Dragons. He and his friends have a little club, Hellfire or something.

"I know who he is. I guess I can tutor him. I don't have much going on. I'm free tomorrow after school so I can meet him in the library," I told her. She smiled and handed me a folder of what he needs help with the most. "Thank you so much, yn. I'll let him know to meet you tomorrow." I took the folder and walked out of her classroom. Why did I just agree to this?

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things #eddie the freak munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie muson x reader #eddie munson rockstar au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader au #stranger things netflix #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader smut #joseph quinn #joe quinn #stranger things au

[katyspersonal]

When I blew up at A after she defended a person who harassed me and my friends, I apologized to her not even a day later, very genuinely and owning up to how she didn't need my shit, unprompted by anything but just feeling guilty and then when it seemed that she didn't forgive me and stopped interacting, I apologized again and broke mutuals to leave her alone. And not only she didn't forgive me - she faked being cool with me, she has been faking it for like 40 days, she lied in my face that she didn't blame me and only has been interacting less because of "being busy and fandom-shifting" and then as soon as she saw a chance to get rid of me when her ableist fujo friend threw a fit about me, she just backstabbed us. In a vile way, like a rat, walking behind my back and finally throwing me under the bus, believing that she saw the last of me and so she would not have to play the role of "understanding and forgiving" person when in reality her ego is so fragile she could not take the L of ONE negative interaction. Not the first time someone sees me as a tumor on an otherwise healthy body and is desperate to cut me off from my friends/community/whatever.

But when she "apologized" to me, she only did that when it became apparent that I didn't leave and nor my friends were okay with her betrayal, she was prompted by learning that I vented about her in my blog and not by actual regret, her apology was fake as fuck with the whole "well but you can see where I came from you made me uncomfy by liking me TOO much anyhow it is not healthy because online friendships are not real uwu :((((((" and she did not even have the balls to let me react and talk it all out, blocking me instantly after that DM. Yet when I of course did not accept this, she got mad at me for making it harder for her or shit like that. Did not help that she kept LYING. She said Alfred-chan was not the one harassing us because "well I messaged them and they said they didn't do that :(" (something tells me you will never become a detective, A) but when the truth was exposed A claimed that she always knew it were them? Then when she seized the chance to get rid of me without consequences and betrayed us but I didn't leave, she pretended that she "only wanted the truth".

I really hate the ongoing insult for my intelligence like I don't see whats up. I hate how she believed my friends would be okay with her betrayal. I hate how she tried to gaslight about "I just cut off a person that made me uncomfortable" when betrayal ain't it lol. She had ONE job: if learning that I was angry and hurt more than one time in my life was ooh-so-eye-opening, she could have just DMed me that "listen, if lashing out is something that might keep happening, I don't want to be mutuals anymore, bye" and all. Nobody forced to forgive me, nor my friends would force her to like me if she didn't. But she HAD to be a vicious snake, she was EAGER to finally push me off the cliff as soon as her fujo friend made it look like acceptable thing to do. But okay, some people lack psyop immunity, fine. She still had a chance to both apologize genuinely AND to not fucking lie to look smarter. Cowardly rat!

I just hate how strongly this situation got to me. Like... It just comes back to me when I make someone uncomfortable on accident or am rude, because after what A did I just expect that this person will never forgive me. Like, what is the point of apologizing or explaining myself? If they will NOT forgive me, if clearly I just retroactively ruined all our previous positive interactions and now they will feign being "chill" just to one day ditch me, instead of being straightforward about not being able to forgive me. But I hate it. I hate now perceiving everyone /I/ have wronged even a little bit as an enemy and a liar, that will forever have ill will towards me now. I just don't believe in people's ability to forgive or understand anymore, all because of that rat. And that hostility just makes me worse the moment I realize I made a mistake, I just want to block this person, or to yell at them to go ahead and show me that they hate me now. I just wish it could heal somehow... But, unfortunately, it is not something a time heals. It is one of those things that are only healed by certain circumstance and until then it is just there. Like a fireplace that will get fuel thrown into it, whether I want it or not. Maybe my rule to not forgive people who are not sorry is not helping.. I don't know, I just don't know.

#/vent #/betrayal #/paranoia #personal #/negative #lmao somehow a dumb videogame and my other friend having been screwed by a- #-vile snake just a few days ago coincided #I guess it is just a right timing to give into this bad memory again #I hate it though #alao by a small chance you are reading this: #consider not peeking into a blog of a person you don't wanna interact with? #and if someone tells on me TO you: consider telling them to stop? #if you do not understand why backstabbing is a BIG deal idk what else to tell ypu

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

A STUDY IN YOU, chapter thirteen

table of contents | talk to me & join the tag list | the playlist

February 14th, 2019

The date wasn’t lost on you. Not when you woke up and you had a text from him with a stupid meme about screenplays. Not when you noticed his five o’clock shadow in class that night and thought about how cool the metal of his watch felt against your throat. 

It especially wasn’t lost on you when you finished the last sip of your second drink at O’Halloran’s and set your cup back on the table with force. 

“What’s got you in a mood tonight?” Max asked with a skeptical glance. 

“That’s a joke, right?” Sophie looked at him and then at you.

You sighed, rolled your eyes at Sophie and wished that just once she’d have a bit more grace when she threw you under the bus. 

“She’s all sad because it’s Valentine’s Day and you know who hasn’t even acknowledged it.”

She wasn’t wrong. You glanced around the bar quickly to make sure any other NYU-affiliates were out of earshot. 

“Not at all?” Naomi asked, her eyebrows arched slightly on her forehead. 

“It’s fine,” you waved them off. “We’re not together, we’re not anything, we’re just--” you rambled a little, the drinks had already gone to your head and the plate of nachos you’d shared with them for dinner did little to soak up the alcohol you poured down your throat in an attempt to forget the significance of the 14th day of the month. 

“Having a movie-worthy love affair?” Sophie teased with a smile. 

“Something like that,” you groaned, a change in tune when you sat up straight and forced a smile. “But we’re here to celebrate Naomi and her accomplishments and I will stop being a party pooper.”

“Sure you will,” Max laughed. 

“Sorry he hasn’t said anything,” Naomi reached over and put a hand on your arm, always the sensitive and compassionate one. 

It’s not like you had the right to be mad. Honestly, you were frustrated with yourself for caring in the first place. What did you expect? A bouquet of roses? A romantic night out to dinner in the village? 

All of that was a long shot and in moments like this--when anxiety got the best of you--you still wondered who else might be waiting for a text from him or hoping they’d see him soon. 

Maybe Jennie. Maybe some other random woman he knew from work or some previous life. 

Your third drink only made the questions echo louder in your head, a round of tequila shots brought your thumbs to the screen of your phone. 

Y/N L/N (10:44pm): Happy friday

He texted back quickly, another layer of confusion when you wondered where he was. His apartment? Out with friends? But he beat you to it.

Jason Sudeikis (10:46pm): Happy Friday

Jason Sudeikis (10:47pm): Are you out?

Y/N L/N (10:49pm): At O’Halloran’s having drinks in Naomi’s honor!

Jason Sudeikis (10:49pm): Sounds like a good way to spend Friday night!

You didn’t want to push it, thanked Sophie when she returned with your next drink and put your phone face down on the table. After Max started chatting up someone at the booth behind yours and Sophie scanned the room for cute girls, Naomi leaned forward and smiled at you. 

“What’s everyone’s favorite professor up to tonight?”

“No clue,” you shrugged casually, a tiny smirk at how well she could read you. 

“No clue?”

You shook your head. “Told him I’m here but--”

“And he’s not already on his way?”

You laughed, appreciated how she always supported you no matter if she agreed with your decisions. 

“No,” you shook your head. You picked up your phone and felt the familiar rush of butterflies when his name appeared on your screen. One new message. 

Jason Sudeikis (10:53pm): Do you want to come over?

Naomi watched your face light up, you showed her the text and she smiled. 

Y/N L/N (10:56pm): Now?

Jason Sudeikis (10:57pm): Or whenever you finish up

Y/N L/N (10:57pm): All the way out to Brooklyn this late at night?

Jason Sudeikis (10:58pm): You’re right, I’ll call you an uber so you don’t have to take the subway this late 😅

And he did. He sent you a screenshot and texted you the whole way, opened his front door with a smile when you looked up at him in the chilly night air. With one smile the uncertainty and the nervousness melted away, you stepped inside and shrugged out of your coat. 

“I hope you at least tried to be subtle in sneaking over here,” he smirked, watched as you made your way over to the couch and slumped into it. 

“Oh relax,” you waved him off playfully. “They don’t care.”

“I’m glad they don’t,” he nodded genuinely, let out a sigh when he sat down beside you. “But I know a lot of people who would.”

“Hmm,” you twisted yourself towards him, pulled your knees up onto the cushion and narrowed your eyes. “And why’s that?”

“As fun as this is--we’re still breaking a lot of rules.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You smiled, liked that he played along when you asked: “How so?”

He smirked. “Well, let’s say there’s a guy.”

You nodded, uh-huh.

“And there’s a girl,” he watched you, eyes intent to make sure you were following. 

“And the guy is older, and he’s—like—a professional? A boss? He’s like a boss,” he decided. 

“Yeah.”

“And his secretary is younger—not like, too young, in a weird way—just like, young in a...hot way.”

You smirked, “yeah? What’s the big deal about that?” You played. 

“Some people might say that the boss has a level of power over his secretary, seeing as he controls her advancement within the organization, right?” 

“Sure,” you shrugged.

He waited a beat, amused by the way you held his gaze.

“Do you see where I’m going with this?” He rolled his hands around in the air, trying to gauge your level of understanding. 

You shrugged again, mostly playing up your level of intoxication to get a laugh out of him. “Eh.”

“I’m the boss,” he nodded, connecting the dots. “You’re kind of, like, the secretary.”

You laughed at the guilty look on his face, his hate to break it to you smile. 

“Me?” You gasped, eyebrows arched high. 

“You? What do you mean, you? Of course you,” he laughed. "Who else would I be referencing?"

You didn't want to know the answer to his question, so you smiled at him for a second, gave him a chance to think he had the last word.

“I can be the boss too sometimes,” you glanced up at him. 

A smirk when he took the bait. “You?”

“Of course me,” you borrowed his words. “I can show you.” 

You stood, angled yourself in front of him and looked down at him. He turned towards you instinctually, faced the center of the living room where you stood with a confident twinkle in your eye. 

“Yeah—” he nodded, a little outpaced by the change in beat. You stepped forward, put a knee on either side of him when you straddled his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist like they always did, you settled onto him easily and smiled down at him. 

“What?” He asked, the corner of his mouth twisted towards the ceiling when his eyes narrowed, suspicious. 

“I just can’t believe you said I’m basically your secretary,” you teased.

“I was making an analogy!” He defended, his eyes wide when he bit back a laugh. You couldn’t even reply, he leaned up and caught your lips in his, pulling you closer. His hands roamed your body, desperate to feel the friction between you. 

You liked the way he wanted you, felt less insecure in moments like this when he was hungry for your touch and wanting more. He tugged your shirt over your head, smiled up at you playfully when he unclasped your bra behind your back. 

He kissed you again, but he tensed suddenly and pulled away after only a few seconds.

“How--uh--how drunk are you?”

You smiled, a closed-lipped one when he searched your face for an answer. 

“Sober enough to consent,” you nodded, cutting right to it.

He let out a quiet laugh, and for a moment it felt like you could sit on his lap forever. “Good,” he teased. “I don’t want to take advantage of you more than I already am.”

February 26th, 2019

Jennie and Dan had already left, eager to make it home before the snow started on a Wednesday night. Javier rubbed his jaw and Jason leaned back in his chair. 

You were flattered at first, saw the way he looked at you when you said you’d stay late. I have some more in me, too, I guess. 

But eventually Javier decided he’d rather make it home for his baby’s bedtime routine than sit in the conference room. He packed his bag and pointed a finger at the two of you when he turned for the door: don’t stay too late! 

Now it was your turn to lean back in your chair. Jason looked over at you when you adjusted, put his red pen behind his ear and rubbed his eyes.

“Well--any other thoughts on your independent study or are you still gonna try to convince me to have you come to Cannes?”

“I have to convince you?” You asked with a bit of surprise. “Sex in the South of France isn’t enough?”

He laughed at that, rolled his eyes a little when he shrugged. “Feels risky, but--it does sound nice.”

“As if you wouldn’t have slept with me last year when we were there,” you eyed him.

“Maybe,” he teased.

“Oh come on,” you laughed, shutting your laptop now when you decided you didn’t have any more steam for tonight. “You got so jealous when Max took me to that club! You seriously asked me if I met anyone!”

He smiled when he thought back to it, scrunched his nose at his own jealousy. “I was still…treading lightly.” He followed your lead, shut his laptop and started to pack up. “Speaking of that, though.”

You watched him expectantly, rifled through a notebook before slipping it into your bag. 

“Jennie asked me on a date.”

“Oh,” you nodded. “She did.”

It wasn’t a question, more of a statement when you kept your eyes on his. He was still smirking. 

“Yeah--I, uh--I politely declined.”

“Oh.”

“I just told her that it’s probably crossing a line--mixing work and play.”

“Ah,” you nodded, smiling at the look of self-awareness on his face. “Very upstanding of you.”

He nodded quickly in sarcastic agreement. “I never mix work and play.”

“Never,” you laughed, shaking your head when he stood. 

“Or at least…I only do it in certain situations.”

“Mmm,” you nodded. “Right.”

He took a step closer to you. You tried to fight the smile on your face but he was already too close. He smiled down at you, and for a moment you wondered what would happen if you said certain things aloud. 

I think I like you. 

You almost wanted to keep your distance, pull back when his arms wrapped around your waist or when his fingers found the waistband of your panties. But he pulled them down your legs when his mouth stayed locked on yours. You let him fuck you with your clothes on, quick and hot and still swimming in thoughts of what if.  

He thrusted into you and moaned your name, late enough that most of the building was empty save for security guards who did their rounds. When he zipped his pants and you smoothed out your blouse, he turned to see you. 

“Alright," he sighed. "I’ve been thinking about Cannes…”

“And?” You smiled up at him, hoping the recent orgasm only helped your case. 

He let out a sigh, one that he obviously played up for dramatic effect. “I don’t think the school will help with the cost since it’s not necessary for you to come. But if you can come up with a decent project to submit--whether that’s a critique or something--I think we could probably get Dean Vasquez to back it.”

“Really?” You tried not to bounce with excitement, reminded yourself that while the two of you certainly had a unique relationship, you didn’t need to behave in a way that made your age obvious. 

He laughed at your excitement, nodding when he slung his bag over his shoulder. 

“I can email him and try to set up a meeting, you know--go over the details and fill out the paperwork.”

You smiled, nodded before you took a step over to him and reached up for his face. One kiss, not overly sexual and not all that passionate. Serious, genuine, different. 

He cleared his throat when you took a step back. Awkward, but only a little.

“I appreciate it,” you said. “I appreciate you.”

He smiled, like he was in on the secret. 

March 3rd, 2019 

You took a deep breath before you knocked on the door. A tiny window told you he was already inside, his hair was coiffed and his tie was blue. 

Dean Vasquez looked up and waved you in, an awkward smile when you stepped in and looked over at Jason. He met your eyes briefly, a close lipped smile when you greeted them.

“Hi, Dean Vasquez, Professor Sudeikis—”

It was clunky, certainly not the way you typically interacted with him. 

“Y/N, hi—come on in, have a seat.” Dean Vasquez was an older man who always wore patterned ties. He frequented campus events and was one of those deans who was able to address most students in the Graduate School of Film by name. 

You dropped your bag off your shoulder now, smoothed out your skirt and sat in the chair beside Jason. 

He looked at you quickly when you sat, nodded a little and then cleared his throat when Dean Vasquez leaned back in his chair. 

“So—Y/N, Professor Sudeikis has informed me that you’re interested in going on the student trip to the Cannes Film Festival again this year.”

You nodded, smiled up at him. “Yes, yeah, I would love to be able to go and assist on the trip. I’d certainly be happy to do an assignment or project in accordance with an independent study, primarily.”

Right, just like you’d discussed.

Dean Vasquez nodded slowly, like he was taking it all in. “Professor Sudeikis, you feel like this is a good option for Ms. L/N?”

“Absolutely,” he nodded quickly. “Y/N’s been my advisee her whole time in Grad Film. She’s been a TA for me and now she’s completing her internship at NBC/Universal.”

You looked over at him when he spoke, apparently he’d decided to leave out that your internship was also with him. 

“She’s a very impressive student,” he nodded again. “And I think this is a good opportunity for her to finish her studies here at NYU.” 

“Well, we certainly don’t have students attend this trip twice very often,” Dean Vasquez admitted. “Y/N, how do you think another trip to the film festival would further your education?”

Dean Vasquez smiled when he asked his question, apparently the meeting was going well and you were saying the right things. You glanced at Jason again and smiled back at the Dean. 

“I had such an amazing experience last year in Cannes. It’s not hard to further your education at a festival where they’re screening some of the most impressive films from new creators,” you gushed. “And I’ve already started brainstorming my project. There’s an incredible director--Sarai Marks--who’s screening her new film and I was thinking about doing a paper about how her directorial style has changed over the course of her three major films.”

You were excited. Despite the fact that being one credit behind felt like a gut punch, the opportunity to do a deep dive into one of your favorite directors still lit up your brain like lightning. 

“It does sound like an amazing trip,” Dean Vasquez smiled. “And it does feel like a good opportunity for an independent study, especially overseen by someone who will likely be core faculty—”

Jason smiled at that, sat up straight and nodded at Dean Vasquez. “Yes sir, yeah, absolutely. I know it’s a unique one, but I do think Y/N will do a phenomenal job and I know she’ll continue to make NYU proud for a long time. She’s already charting a course to be a staff writer at NBC upon completion of her degree.”

You watched Jason for a second, careful to control your smile and the heat on your cheeks when he complimented you. What you really were thrown off by, though, were the words that Dean Vasquez used.

Core faculty. 

“Well,” Dean Vasquez nodded and looked between the two of you. “That all sounds like an easy decision, then.” He cleared his throat and kept going. “Professor Sudeikis, I can sign off on any necessary paperwork you need for Miss L/N to join the trip. One second—Paige?”

He called to the middle aged secretary that sat outside his office at a beautiful cherry desk. 

She rounded the corner and came into the room. “Anything you get from Professor Sudeikis over the next few days regarding the Cannes trip, please flag that as urgent.”

She nodded and smiled, stayed in the room as if she knew her job wasn’t finished. 

Dean Vasquez sighed. “Alright, Professor Sudeikis, if you don’t mind, I just have a few questions for Miss L/N.”

Jason shifted in his seat, glanced at you quickly and then back to Dean Vasquez. Oh, he was being asked to leave.

He nodded, did a good job at hiding his confusion or uncertainty as he shouldered the messenger bag he always carried. “Yeah—of course, uh, thank you so much for your time, Dean Vasquez. Y/N—I’ll see you in class?”

You’d see him elsewhere before then, but you chalked his words up to an appropriate goodbye in front of other university staff. 

You all smiled, muttered farewells when he left the office and shut the door behind him. Your heart thumped a little once he was gone—were you in trouble? Had you done something wrong?

You turned back to Dean Vasquez. Paige—who still stood in the room in her pencil skirt and funky blouse—smiled when he cleared his throat. 

“I hope you don’t mind that Paige is joining, but—there’s some University Policy that I wanted to discuss.”

You looked between the two of them and nodded. Holy shit. Where was this going?

“You’re obviously a very impressive student, uh, none of this is questioning your merit at this institution. But, we do like to check in with students who have close relationships with faculty or advisors to ensure that there are appropriate boundaries in place? Give the student an opportunity to voice any concerns that may arise.”

“Oh,” you nodded. “Uh, no—everything is fine.”

Was that the right thing to say? You shifted in your seat uncomfortably. Dean Vasquez sensed this.

“If you ever want to discuss anything along those lines, please know that you could always speak with myself or Dean Grasso,” he referenced another Graduate Dean—a female, Paula Grasso, who oversaw the Graduate Theatre program. “If that would be more comfortable.”

So that’s why Paige stayed. To be the other woman in the room. To be the other vagina so you felt comfortable.

While you appreciated their effort to make you comfortable in an uncomfortable situation, all you could manage was a nod as you tried to stammer out a reply. “Okay, thank you—I can assure you that Ja—Professor Sudeikis—has been nothing but professional and appropriate. He’s a great mentor.”

Dean Vasquez nodded. “Well then, please make sure he fills out that paperwork and we’ll get everything approved for your independent study.”

“I will,” you smiled, stood and gathered your bag from the floor by your seat. “Thank you, both of you, for your time.”

You hurried out, rounded the corner of Paige’s desk and opened your phone.

Jason Sudeikis (11:32am): Waiting down the hall for you

So you stepped outside the administrative wing, your footsteps echoed in the wide hallway when you turned left. Your heart was beating fast, you tried to steady your breathing.

He stood against the wall, bag slung over his shoulder, scrolling on his phone. He waited for you.

“Hi,” you said quietly as you approached.

He looked up and clicked his phone to sleep. “Hey—“ he turned towards you when you stopped in front of him. “How was that?”

You smiled, reached forward to slip a finger between the buttons on his shirt. You were proud. “Why didn’t you tell me you got the core faculty spot?”

His hand reached up automatically, his fingers held onto yours for a second.

“Nothing’s finalized,” he shrugged, the hint of a smile on his face. “I haven’t signed an offer letter yet.”

A door opening down the hall caused you both to retreat from the other’s touch. He blinked when you met his eyes.

“What did he want to talk to you about?”

Your eyebrows rose at that, you nodded a little when you smirked. “He wanted to make sure that there are appropriate boundaries between us.”

“What?” He asked, his face immediately contorted into a look of concern. “What do you mean? What did he ask?”

“He just asked if there were appropriate boundaries,” you giggled a little, but he didn’t find this entertaining. “Then he said if I ever needed to discuss anything along those lines I could talk to him or Dean Grasso.”

“A woman? He offered up Dean Grasso? As if you’re some…” he looked around before he lowered his voice, “sexual harassment victim?”

“I told him everything was fine,” you said again, a shrug of your shoulder. “I handled it.”

“I know, but this isn’t good, Y/N—if anyone finds out anything I could lose my job and therefore not become core faculty.” 

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” you said calmly, hopeful that your words would lower his pulse. 

“Okay,” he nodded to himself. “Uh—I should go, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, kept your eyes on his.

“I’ll see you? I’ll text you?”

You nodded, reassured—only slightly—by the fact that now your goodbyes included a promise to talk soon. 

He walked away, shoved his hands in his pockets when he headed for the glass doors that would deposit him onto the street. You let out a sigh. At least you were going to Cannes. 

March 10th, 2019

You hated how petty you were, but you also felt grateful to have the tension behind you. Now that you knew Jennie had asked Jason out--and that he had said no--you felt like you could breathe easier. 

So much so, actually, that you walked beside her and let out a snort of a laugh when she impersonated one of the characters in your script. A sandwich in hand, you both brought back lunch and set your phones down on the table. 

The conference room was empty, the others were scattered throughout midtown in search of a meal before you’d hit the afternoon with force and attempt to finish the script for Season 2 Episode 5. 

“Hey,” Jennie said quickly, her voice quiet to make it obvious that she was shifting topics. “I finally asked Jason if he wanted to grab a drink.”

“Oh,” you looked up at her, speaking around the bite of sandwich you’d just taken. “How’d that go?”

As if you didn’t know.

“Fine,” she shrugged, downplayed it and wiped her mouth. “Said he’s actually seeing someone, so--there’s that.”

“Oh,” you said again, eyes a bit wide this time. “I didn’t…know that.”

“Yeah,” she said casually. “He didn’t say who or anything, but--oh well.”

Your stomach churned with a new wave of anxiety: was he actually seeing someone? Would he tell you if he was? And why, most importantly, did your face get red with heat like he was yours and yours alone?

“Hi,” Dan walked back in with Jason in tow, they came back to the table and settled in when you tried to slow your breathing. 

The group fell into casual conversation, Jennie perked up after Javier cracked a joke. 

“Hey--by the way, Y/N mentioned that we all need to get drinks soon.”

“Yeah?” Jason forked into a bite of salad and smiled at you. 

“Yeah,” Jennie answered for you. “Her birthday was last week so--we have to do something!”

His eyebrows quirked up, he smirked when he said: “It was?”

Jennie answered for you, “yeah!”

“What day?”

You could tell he was playing down his interest, a poor attempt at hiding the tightrope between you.

You shrugged it off, totally not a big deal. “Last week, Thursday.”

“You didn’t mention it at all,” he blinked a few times, lips in a thin line.

“What are you?” Jennie teased him. “The birthday police?”

“No,” he shook his head, almost embarrassed by her accusation. “I just feel bad that…we didn’t know.”

A smooth redirection, you’d purposely declined to tell him the exact date so as to avoid this exact moment. He didn’t need to celebrate you, didn’t need to buy a gift or anything like that. 

You knew that either way you’d be disappointed: it wasn’t like you could actually go out and celebrate: a fancy dinner or a concert or something like that? No way. And besides, after your meeting with Dean Vasquez, he seemed properly spooked. 

He reminded you plenty. In his office late one night, after class last week: we shouldn’t, we can’t, not here. It’s not like you’d stopped sleeping together, but the opportunity never arose now without his acknowledgment of the anxiety he felt or the tightrope you walked.

So you planned a celebration that felt like a good fit: dinner with your friends and drinks this upcoming weekend at O’Halloran’s, Sophie promised she’d make chocolate cupcakes. 

“I’m--uh--having drinks with friends on Friday, so--if you guys are around, you should all stop by.”

“I should be free,” Javier nodded. 

“Me too,” Dan smiled. 

“Yeah,” Jason nodded, a beat before he met your gaze again. “I can swing by.”

Which is how you ended up with a margarita in hand with Sophie and Naomi flanking your sides by the bar later that week. A decent turnout, which always felt nice--you surveyed the crowd of friends and classmates that had showed up to celebrate you. 

Jennie was on time and Max was thrilled to meet her. His younger brother was in town for the weekend, and Connor was just as funny as his brother was, but decidedly less flamboyant. 

“Okay,” Connor said, gesturing towards Max and Jennie with his beer. “Who’s she again and how do we know her?”

“Coworker of mine,” you informed, eyes trailing over to them. “She’s nice but a little annoying.”

“A lot annoying,” Sophie corrected. 

Connor was 26, worked in finance in San Francisco and considered running to be a hobby. He smirked at Sophie but then smiled at you. “Yeah?”

“She’s fine,” you rolled your eyes at Sophie. “She’s grown on me…slightly.”

You would have said more, explained to both of them how even in the last week Jennie seemed to be acting more like your friend than a superior, but the door pushed open when Jason, Javier, and Dan strode in. 

“Jason alert,” Sophie said quickly, an elbow into your ribs when you shot her a look. 

“I see him, thank you.”

You took off towards the door, figured it’d be easier to greet them and pull them towards the bar than to leave them mingling on their own. Javier saw you first, open arms to hug you when he smiled. 

“Happiest of birthdays, even though this is belated,” he teased. 

“Thank you so much,” you laughed, moving from Javier to Dan. Hugs for them both, then Jason.

“Hi,” you said it quietly when he hugged you, your mouth close to his ear. 

“Hey,” he said quickly, pulled back like he was afraid to hold on for too long. 

You brought them over towards the bar, introduced them to some of your other friends and then returned to Sophie. She had another drink waiting for you, Connor’s arms were crossed when he scanned the crowd. 

You filled him in on names and laughed at stories Max told about their childhood, a glass in hand all night as friends came to congratulate you on another successful trip around the sun.

Birthdays were always reflective, you always thought through the months and the days and the years of your life that shaped you into who you were. This year it was no exception, and Jason’s presence in the bar that night only made it all the more obvious how much things had changed in just 365 days. 

Your words were a little slurred by 11pm, but the energy in O’Halloran’s was that of a night that was just beginning. Sophie came back from another group of classmates and made a face that meant business. You smiled and nodded at a friend from your NBC internship, Sophie did her best to not look obviously impatient. 

“Hey,” she tugged you aside eventually, her voice quiet when you both stepped away from the others.

“What’s up?”

“I know you might be weird about this, but Jason’s totally been watching you and Connor,” she offered an evil smirk. “So keep talking to him.”

“What?” You asked again, unsure where she was going and what she was up to.

“He seems jealous,” she shrugged. “He keeps looking over here a lot, probably wondering who he is.”

Right. Because Jason hadn’t actually come up to talk to you or interact with you at all since he walked in. Probably because of the Dean Vasquez meeting, which you hadn’t told any of them about.

“I’m not trying to make him jealous,” you told Sophie. “I’m just being friendly.”

You glanced over her shoulder. He wasn’t looking, but you did notice that he’d stationed himself so you were directly in his sightline. You hoped it was intentional. 

“Also,” you said, annoyed now. “He’s barely even been over here to talk to me. He’s been weird all night.” 

Her eyes grew with intrigue, always ready for drama. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “There was a…thing that happened.”

“Thing that happened?”

O’Halloran’s probably wasn’t the greatest spot in the world to tell Sophie this, so you tugged her wrist and pulled her into the bathroom. Sharpie on the walls and sticky counters. 

Once inside, you let out a deep breath. “We had a meeting with Dean Vasquez, about my independent study. About Cannes.”

She smiled, they were all hopeful you'd come and Sophie would probably burn down NYU herself if Dean Vasquez was a hard sell. “And?”

“And he asked me if there were appropriate boundaries in place.”

Even intoxicated, Sophie’s eyes went wide. “He knows you’re boning?”

“Soph--” you made a face at her word choice. 

“Sorry, having steamy and passionate sex?” She corrected.

“No, no one knows anything, so friendly reminder to keep your mouth shut.”

“Come on,” Sophie rolled her eyes. “He’s practically your boyfriend at this point.”

“No he’s not,” you said quickly, moving aside when she made her way into a stall. “Just because I’ve slept with him doesn’t mean it’ll ever be more.”

You’d been telling yourself that for so long it came out automatically, spilling onto the bathroom counter when Sophie leaned against the wall, unimpressed. 

“You end up at place after partying now and honestly I’m surprised he hasn’t given you a key.”

"Well, he told Jennie he's seeing someone, so, there's that."

"What?" She said from inside the stall, her voice loud when she flushed. "He's got to be talking about you."

"We don't know that," you tried to shake it off. You certainly didn't need to get your hopes up and think that he'd said no to Jennie because he was too busy saying yes to you.

"We don't," Sophie agreed, emerging from inside when she headed for the sink. "But outside of work and teaching and hooking up with you--would he even have time to be dating someone else?"

You would have replied, told her to shut it or something along those lines, but Jennie (of course!) pushed the door open and smiled.

“Hi,” you said quickly, mostly to let Sophie know that you weren’t alone.

“Who's dating someone else?” Jennie smiled eagerly, happy to get in on the gossip. 

“No one,” you waved her off. “Sophie’s being dramatic."

She grabbed paper towel from the dispenser with force, smiled at Jennie. “Just another one of the men obsessed with Y/N!"

You looked up at her, where the fuck are you going with this? “Not at all, actually.”

Jennie was excited now, her eyes lit up when she crossed her arms. “That cute guy out there who’s been with you all night?”

“Yes,” Sophie answered for you quickly, a nod to sell the lie when you rolled your eyes. “Our friend Max’s brother. He’s totally into her, right?”

“Oh for sure,” Jennie agreed. “He’s definitely into you.”

“Alright,” you laughed at the two of them, surprised that Jennie was now just as invested in getting you laid as Sophie always had been. “Well, I don’t think I’m going home with anyone tonight.” 

Which was probably a disappointment to Connor, seeing as he had a new drink waiting for you upon your return from the bathroom. By midnight you were pulled out to the sidewalk, the last few sips of a cocktail in your glass when Max handed you a joint.

Jason finally made his way over once Javier and Dan left, Jennie had said goodbye and climbed into an uber right when Jason made his way into your circle.

“Successful celebration,” he smiled, clinked his glass against yours but kept his voice low. 

“You’ve been all around tonight,” you commented on his socializing, a subtle acknowledgement that while he’d chatted with almost everyone here, you were at the bottom of the list. 

“I didn’t want to monopolize your time,” he smirked. “Seeing as someone else was doing that.”

You nodded, offered a challenging smirk up at him. “How considerate of you.” 

“Hi Sudeikis,” Sophie leaned over and butt into your conversation. 

“Hi Sophie,” he smiled down at her.

“Are we allowed to smoke weed in your presence, or are you going to code-shift into professor now that the clock struck midnight?”

You rolled your eyes at Sophie’s joke, took the joint out of her hand and took another inhale before Jason could reply. O’Halloran’s was thinning out, your classmates had left and most of the patrons inside didn’t seem to be NYU-affiliated. He laughed when you held your breath, blew the smoke up towards the stars.

“Easy there, slugger,” Jason’s eyes went a little wide but he took the last sip of his beer. “Twenty-eight might not be as forgiving.”

“I’m sure she can handle it,” Connor smiled from behind Sophie. All three of you turned at the sound of his voice.

“Yes, yeah, I just figured our night will be easier if I can get her home in one piece.”

Sophie stifled a laugh at Jason’s response: firm and territorial and for once, not cloaked in secrecy. Your eyes were wide at the plural possessive when you looked up at him, then over to Sophie. 

“On that note,” you smiled, “I would love to be in sweatpants right now.”

You backed away from the group, a wobbly one in heels that had Jason lurching to steady you on the sidewalk. Connor watched in quiet amusement, apparently piecing together that despite barely interacting all night, everyone knew you’d end up going home with Jason in tow. 

“It was great to finally meet you, Connor,” you smiled at him, waved and blew Max a kiss when Sophie made her loyalty known. 

“Ditto,” she pointed to Connor. “I’ll walk with you,” Sophie linked her arm with yours when Jason waited for you to make the move. 

“You can come,” you looked up at him and smiled. 

Sophie rolled her eyes playfully, “let’s go Sudeikis, let’s get this wasted bitch home.”

“I can hear you,” you laughed. 

“Am I wrong?” Sophie teased.

You thought on it, fell into step with the two of them towards your neighborhood. “No.”

It was the weed that did it--the last hit on the sidewalk outside that really made the world start spinning. Now, Sophie rummaged for your keys and turned the knob, Jason’s arm was around your shoulders when you tripped up the stairs. 

“Okay, one at a time,” he laughed a little, helping to guide you inside your apartment building.

“I’m fine--I’m just fucked up,” you giggled. 

“We’re aware,” Sophie reminded as she climbed up behind you. Two floors up, you huffed and puffed and forgot, in your state of inebriation, that Sophie and Jason didn’t spend a whole lot of time together outside of school functions. This became obvious once all three of you were in the living room.

“Are you gonna throw up?” Sophie asked, a hint of disgust on her face.

“No,” you shook your head, holding onto your kitchen counter for stability, eyes drooping with sleep.

“Water,” Jason nodded, a suggestion more than anything else. Sophie pointed to the cabinet by the sink, he found a glass and filled it from the faucet. 

Sophie helped you over to the couch, you kicked off your heels and took the granola bar she found in her purse and tossed to you. “Have a snack,” she said flatly.

“And drink this,” Jason walked over and handed it to you. You took it and sipped, then held up a finger and handed it back to him. “Not so fast.”

“I can stay with her,” Sophie nodded, eyes glancing down to you on the couch and then up to Jason. “Or you could,” she said quickly, nobody knew the rules. 

“I’m not going to die,” you reminded. "I actually want pizza."

“Yeah, uh, I’ll stay,” he nodded, ignoring your comment when his cheeks flushed. Sophie looked around the room, running through a mental checklist. Did he know where your pajamas were? Could he handle whatever mess you’d become?

You watched when he smiled awkwardly, a silent acknowledgement that this was weird but now out in the open. Sophie smiled at that, laughed to herself before she stepped forward. 

She kissed your forehead quickly, “be good for Professor Sudeikis,” she said with a smirk. 

You let out a guttural noise, one of frustration and discomfort and two parts intoxicated. Sophie clapped Jason on the shoulder, who tried his best not to laugh, and watched as she headed for the door. 

“Let me know if you need anything but I’m going to pass the fuck out when I get home.”

She opened the door, turned around and clutched her hand to her heart when she looked at the two of you. She let out a sigh, how adorable, Jason finally cracked a smirk and shook his head. 

“Goodnight, Sophie!”

“Goodnight!” She called, tugging the door shut behind her. One last glance only because she couldn’t let the two of you get away that easy. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite!”

table of contents | talk to me & join the tag list | the playlist

tag list: @sheerangermany @clarebearr @tedlassostan @hart-kinsella @kahluamystery97 @airplanes924 @trulymadlykiki @thisismysecondrodeo @mypugsley @jng4kook @msolbesg @stankface @ljej95 @ivetastedbloodanditissweet @pascal-reyes @paola-carter @rubberduckingaro @golden-hoax @ccbb2222 @caplikeme @outofthecradlex @mackenzmeme @reann-shitposting @very-berry-harry @winter-soldier-007 @tinydeskwriter @femmel90 @shawnsblue @iwanttogoeverywhereplease @sillyeverydays @goodbyesaneworld @sillyeverydays

AN: WOW okay chappie thirteen finally! This one is long and eventful and I HOPE you guys like it! Fair warning now that I think chappie 15 will be....the end?!?!??! happy friday friends!

#jason sudeikis #jason sudeikis fic #jason sudeikis fan fic #jason sudeikis fanfic #jason sudeikis blurb #jason sudeikis fanfiction #jason sudeikis x you #jason sudeikis x reader #ted lasso #a study in you #asiy

[mariacallous]

Interviews by Lilia Yapparova. Abridged translation by Sam Breazeale.

Russia’s mobilization campaign has been going on for roughly a week now. Some new conscripts have already been sent to the front without any training whatsoever; others are sleeping on the ground in barracks that look more like prison cells. Many have been forced to purchase basic medical supplies and uniforms on their own dime, and in some cases, draftees have been issued rust-covered weapons. Meduza asked Russians who have already taken part in the country’s war against Ukraine — as contract soldiers and mercenaries — to tell us what they think of the mobilization effort.

The names in this story have been changed.

Kirill, contract soldier

If I’m being honest, they’re all going to die there. They'll be mutilated and killed. This isn’t a trained army! I, for example, served [as a contract soldier] for a long time, then chose to go [to the front in Ukraine] myself — and I still found myself unprepared. The very first day, I realized I had made the biggest mistake of my life.

When I decided to go to Ukraine, I was a staunch patriot. I believed there were Nazi formations of some kind there, like the Right Sector, the Aidar [Battalion], the Azov [Battalion]. Plus I’d watched a bunch of [Russian] films like Soltsepyok and Opolchenochka. Plus, all of the Telegram and TV channels were designed to pump [that stuff into] our brains.

But even while we were still being driven across the border in the Ural [truck], I realized that we were the occupiers, we were the fascists. I [...] was sitting in the truck bed, watching the scenes going by. What we were leaving behind. All of those destroyed villages in Kharkiv. I realized we were actually destroying a country. Along with its civilian population.

You’d go through a village and children would run out onto the road and gesture after you: either “smoke” or “eat.” I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. The world was upside down; I felt empty inside. You realize all of your life so far was fiction. A soap bubble.

We traveled like that to Izium [in the Kharkiv region]. I spent three days on the frontline — and got another wake-up call when our own artillery fired at us. Then those stupid commands began…

I’ve served more than a few times, and I can tell when I’m being sent in for slaughter. And I immediately told this guy with big epaulets to fuck off: “I’m not just a bargaining chip! I’m a soldier for the Russian army! You can’t just throw me under the bus like this!” To which he answered, “You’re all just cannon fodder. You’re the third group of people to form this battalion. Do you know where the first two groups died? And you’ll die here.” Then he told my commander, “Send in the meat." [Us.]

They were trying to advance, and they threw us at a Ukrainian stronghold, where tanks, artillery, and machine guns were all operating. And the Ukrainians had hundreds of troops, while we only had 40.

You wake up as one person, and by the evening, you’ve become someone else. You go through such intense metamorphoses that it scares you. It scares you how blind you were below. And deaf.

I lay in a trench for two or three days — and left in the first vehicle I saw. I jumped into the first vehicle that left our positions to get food and munitions. At first, they said, “We don’t take refusers,” but I told them, “I have a gun, so you’ll take me one way or another.”

[...]

This is a scary time: 1922–1939 is starting all over again, 100 years later. And I really want to tell [the new conscripts] that they should all come back — however many there are — and turn towards Moscow.

Even when I’ve tried to explain things to people, they haven’t listened. Nobody believes words, you see? I was like that, too — and there was a time when people who had already been to Ukraine tried to talk me out of it. They called me right from the front lines and told me not to even think about it.

When I look at [the people being mobilized now], I see myself three months ago. But I don’t have any sympathy for them. If you have a choice, choose life! Sure, it might be life in prison; sure, the state will consider you a criminal — for you’ll know you’re not a criminal. You won’t kill anybody. You won’t shoot anybody.

We’re the fascists — really. We’re the fascists. There’s not another word for it. There really is a denazification happening in Ukraine right now — not for Ukraine, but for us.

Anatoly, mercenary

I got a summons the other day. I immediately called the military commissar and told him where he could go. He took offense: “Why are you talking to me like that?” Well, how am I supposed to talk to you, comrade colonel? I did six months there [in Ukraine as part of the Wagner PMC]. Are you kidding me with this?

“We didn’t know you’d just returned from there!” Well, of course [Wagner] didn’t share that information — officially, it was as if we weren’t even there.

And the military commissar knows perfectly well who it was mouthing off at hiim — I introduced myself and everything. He said, “Well, come on over, we’ll get it sorted out.” There’s no way I’m going there — I understand perfectly well that I’ll be put in handcuffs, stick me on a train, and send me far away.

A bunch of newly-mobilized guys have already called me: “What do I do? Where should I go?” Go on, I tell them, serve. I told them what boots to buy and how to behave themselves there.

Some of my friends have recently had children — theoretically, those people can’t be conscripted. But they’re conscripting them anyway. People are clutching their head; they don’t know what to do. A lot of people have loans and mortgages — who’s going to pay them now?

I don’t understand what this crowd of people is going to achieve. If we, the professionals, got our asses whipped out there, what do they think they’re going to do? The best case scenario is that they stay in the reserves [in the Donbas]. The worst is that they die a hero’s death. Two options.

Especially if they get thrown out there after a week of training. A week — that’s nothing at all! Combat units need at least a month to a month and a half for unit cohesion.

[...]

These [newly drafted] IT guys and other cannon fodder — what are they going to do? They won’t change anything [at the front] and they won’t solve anything. A friend of mine had a son that served for a year — and he got a summons, too. He didn’t so much as smell gunpowder — he may have fired a weapon twice throughout his whole service. So what are they sending him for? What’s going to happen to him? I just don’t get it. I can’t wrap my head around it.

So why recruit these 300,000? I think there’s going to be a total standoff: NATO against Russia. I hope they don’t throw these conscripts to the front immediately and instead spend some time training them. So that there’s a reserve that’s ready for battle. And then [if there’s a direct confrontation with NATO] they’d be ready as soon as the command was given.

Everyone’s scared. I’m scared, too, to be honest. Something bad is coming at full force — I can sense it.

Chingiz, contract soldier

This [mobilization] is evidence that the army’s been defeated. And they’re conscripting anyone and everyone. A lot of people don’t understand, but that’s how it is: Russia’s professional army has been destroyed over the last six months — and now they’re conscripting the entire reserve.

I was a contract soldier myself — and [even] we were given inadequate training. The photo reports [of the training] are one thing — but the results [at the front] showed that it was all a Potemkin village.

Even we had huge losses. And now it’s just a crowd of people who were given a form. [...] What difference are they going to make [on the frontline]? They’re just going to die for nothing. These are just civilians who did their [mandatory] military service at some point.

Everyone who’s there [in Ukraine] right now just wants to go home. They want someone to come replace them. Even [my fellow servicemen] who supported the war wanted to go home: “We need to at least take a break at home for a month or two — then we can go back and defeat the fascist scum.”

[...]

A friend of mine who’s been drafted is supposed to go [to Ukraine] two weeks from now. In theory, he’s against the war. But his position… I don’t understand it. “Well, fine. They drafted me, so I guess I’d go.” He’s docile like that. I don’t like that — I tried to talk him out of it. But he goes, “What, and go to jail for a year? It’s better to help the other guys.” That’s become a standard phrase: “I need to help the other guys.” But all of the decent guys have already gotten out of there.

I’ve thought a lot about where this deference comes from. It’s like you try to explain to people that Russia is the aggressor, Putin is the aggressor. And that “protecting the Motherland” in a foreign country while destroying their cities all just looks suspect. That it’s not Ukraine who attacked first, it’s Russia. But they all have the same argument: “Well, what if NATO came? And besides, the Ukrainians are Nazis.” That kind of thing. [...]

I tell them, “Well, if NATO came, then what? Would our lives get worse? And what — like your life is good now?” They don’t even have any good arguments about why NATO is bad — they just repeat the mantras [they hear on TV]. About how “Russia was forced to launch this preventative strike, because otherwise NATO would have come right up to our borders.”

[...]

I went [to Ukraine] in January — and it’s true: we all thought we were just going there for military exercises. [...] I saw how unprepared the Russian army was. We just kept moving forward, and they kept bombing us. Then we got to Kyiv, dug in, and they started bombing us again. That’s been the whole war.

The civilians would run from us: we kept entering empty villages. The families who remained hung up white flags and stayed inside their houses. In Buzova [a village near Kyiv], I saw a family with a child who was in pain. His mother was crying — I saw it myself — and telling him she couldn’t call an ambulance. Because of the war. The child was in a lot of pain. [He was] five years old. And a few days later, I learned he had died. Which means he died because of us. Because we’d gone there.

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

I promise we'll be back in eachothers arms again pt3

Just before hand I'd like to apologize for the lack of content lately. I have been writing but I've been all other the place with several wips..

Number two this chapter is particularly short chapter one, because I've been writing this at 8am on a two hour long bus and train trip. Number two I didn't want to be excessive.

Anyway here is the chapter folks.

Jonathan's first opponent stepped out, desperately trying to reason with them, but it was no use.  They brandished their sword and swung at him. He dodged just in time and held his sword in Infront of him.

"Please forfeit. I don't want to kill you," Jonathan begged, but the opponent again attacked. He realized that these gladiators couldn't be reasoned with and that fighting was his only option.

Another swing of the sword, and this time he countered with his own. The horrible sound of metal clashing together rang throughout the colosseum, and the crowd began to roar.

"So he's actually going to fight," Dio thought out loud with a smirk. Your heart ached as you watched him. You could only imagine how much this pained him. You knew he could fight, he was forced to train often in his teen years, but this was entirely different. Metal replaced wood, and mistakes would result in death instead of a simple scold. He had to kill people who were possibly innocent, who were driven to violence in hopes that one day they'd finally be free.

You felt your heart nearly pounding out of your chest as you watched them exchange blows. You felt lightheaded watching, and Dio noticed it.

"You poor thing. You worry about that scum too much," Dio chuckled, but your attention was fixed on Jonathan.

The opponent threw a punch, and Jonathan dodged but was unable to avoid the following attack from their sword. Your eyes widened, and you screamed out his name in horror. He stumbled back, and you could see the wound across his shoulder. It wasn't enough to damage his arm, but still horrible, nevertheless.

Tears welled up in your eyes as fear began to take hold. You didn't want to see him die. You held your head in your hands as you cried. You felt sick to your stomach at the thought of his death before a large hand grabbed the back of your head and pulled it away from your hands.

"You wanted this, so you must watch the results," Dio taunted you.

"No, I didn't! You didn't even give me an option," you hissed as you watched Jonathan. He still fought his opponent despite his wound.

Jonathan was able to deliver a blow to the opponent's head with the hilt of his sword to incapacitate them. They fell to the dusty ground, but the audience was not pleased. Your mouth became dry as you realized what he would be forced to do.

"He's won! There's no need to make him-" you tried to plead, but Dio merely smirked as he stood up to the podium once more.

"You think this is a game? The match isn't over until only one lives," Dio spoke to Jonathan in a condescending fashion.

"No! No!" You screamed as you tried to run to the podium but were quickly forced back onto the throne by the guards.

"No, I refuse to take another's life!" Jonathan stated.

"Well, I take it that you forfeit… say you forfeit, and your death will be swift," Dio said with a sadistic tone. It felt like Jonathan was merely a puppet under his control.

Even from a distance, you could see the defeated look on Jonathan's face. He raised his sword once more before plunging it into his opponent.

It was a sight you knew would haunt you both for the rest of your days. Yet this was only just the start.

#yandere jjba #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere x reader #romain au #yandere dio