#(all homophobic quotes are jokes i swear)

[autumnalfallingleaves]

Incorrect Star Wars quotes but it's the shit my friends and I have said

Luke, washing dishes

Luke: *drops a mug, thinks there's shards in the sink* Oh SHIT something broke!

Luke:

Luke: Oh, wait, no, that's just celery

--

Obi-Wan: That's the worst fucking Bible headcanon I've ever seen

--

Kix: Let's get some fucking Punnett squares up in here. I can go all night >:|

--

Mace: That was verbal irony, or SARCASM as you might know it

--

Han: The thought of being eaten by an Ewok is terrifying.

--

Padmé: If I hear you say "meesa" I'm pulling out a rifle

--

Anakin: I'm from Tatooine. I know how to drive.

--

Fives, to Echo and Rex: You both have imaginations

Echo: Unfortunately.

--

Omega: Eugenics is mean :(

--

Obi-Wan: He murdered an entire fucking village!!

Padmé: Fuck 'em

--

Ezra: You shouldn't make people kill themselves. It's not poggers

--

Obi-Wan: The story of my life is "why did I consent to this?"

--

Leia, about Luke: You say "so true" and you're talking to a toaster

--

Luke: I hope to one day be a fruit that someone wants

--

Zeb: If I was a furry-

Zeb: Which I'm NOT

--

Tup: *wrapped in a rainbow blanket* I'm a gay burrito!

Dogma: *similarly wrapped up* I'm a homophobic burrito, so watch out

--

Hardcase, responding to some scientific thing that Kix said: SSPS. That stands for super-sized... penis schlong...

[jupiterisaroace]

Adults no DMing unless I DM first or if it’s necessary<3

If you wanna be in a Descendants roleplay

__________________________ Intro (PLEASE READ THE FIRST BIT)

LIVE EVIL GNOL🦔🦔🦔

simplified version of the LIVE EVIL GNOL lore (I copied this by @saturnisaroace but changed it a bit so it’d fit my bio)

So it all started on a day in AUGUST(NOT October, @saturnisaroace ), when my platonic pookie, @saturnisaroace was reblogging with me & then I mentioned something about the hedgehog🦔 emoji & it looks mischievous & then we just continued talking until I said “livE eviL gnoL” & she said “guys new quote ‘livE eviL gnoL!’” & that’s how we got here! (ONLY USE IF YOU ARE A DESCENDANTS FAN BECAUSE ITS BACKWARDS FOR “Long Live eviL” & that’s what the tag is about) (so far we have 6 members. @joshuacolleyenthusiast is president, @saturnisaroace is vice president, & @sleepyking is general. Then the members are @maliabakerenthusiast , @gaygoose09 , & @nevaeh-daughterofvalcarol , right?)

Okay, now intro:

Cam/Doll/Jupiter

Pronoun mirroror + purr/mew! :D

(plotting/scheming is a joke pronoun set buut I mean, use them if you’d likeeeeee :3c)

Neptunic & aroace (link is not my post btw)

Engaged to Monty Finch

Self diagnosed AuDHD, OCD, GAD, aphantasia, anger issues, & BPD aoszkxiidjxbddik

My triggers (y’all I can’t remember my intro post account’s name but I have more triggers ;-;)

DNI

Monty Finch haters

Peder Lindell haters

Xenophobics

Transphobics

Homophobics

Aphobics

Kylia (Kylie Cantrall x Malia Baker) shippers

Pedophiles

Lumi Athena fans

Drake fans

P Diddy fans

I sound stern on here but I swear I’m fun to be friends with! :D

Oh, I also have social such as

Insta - crmx2011

Pinterest - joshuacolleyenthusiast

C.ai - Silly-C

Twitter - h00kling

Picsart - offwiththeirheads

[theoryandahalf]

I just realized I have literally no time & skill to write the Fnaf au/joking because it'd take forever

seriously though, why does everyone want to give students homework. I go to school , that should be enough :/

In a question I swear is relevant , team theorists as types teachers

MatPat would probably be English - don't ask my why he just gives english teacher vibes

I'm pretty sure there are studies that show too much homework is ineffective but don't quote me on it. Hang in there pal, fanfic can wait for the weekend.

I kinda agree Matt gives off Dead Poets Society vibes but I think he's said on record he hated English classes (was I the only one shocked that MatPat doesn't read?!). If he's teaching high school, yeah he's the AP Lit professor. If he's teaching college, he's the really young, oversharing Psych101 professor who's really cool but you also know too much about his wife, kid and cat, and his weekend hobbies. He's overcommitted on five hundred faculty committees and faculty Senate. He's won Teacher/Professor of the Year five times and he's not even 40 yet. In his spare time he consults for Google.

My other guesses:

Stephanie: Chemistry Professor or high school Chem teacher. God help you poor kids in her class, she's the strictest grader and the only time she unwinds is when Mr. Patrick sneaks into her classroom in between break periods. You know nothing about her personal life. Is she married to Mr. Patrick/Dr Patrick, or are they just friends?! Unless you have Mr Patrick and he overshares about her, you won't know, and you never will.

Lee: Bad ass History teacher all the way, in university and high school. He's also the advisor for the academic decathlon team. He's the chillest teacher ever and he'll let you sleep in his class. Just don't disrespect Tolkien in his presence.

Amy: Art teacher in high school, teaches fashion and design at the college level. She gives off 'mean teacher' vibes because most people only see her interact with Mr. Massa and Mr. Robinson and she often rips them a new one for being too loud and obnoxious. But she's actually fantastic to have in class and you learn a lot from her.

You also work your butt off. Don't take her as an elective.

Tom: ...I have no idea. I guess choir director? Tom is dyslexic and ADHD so teaching would be a hard profession for him. I can see him doing choir/show choir at the high school level though. He seems to give really good advice on his streams so maybe he's a school guidance counselor or adviser.

Santi: Physical education or kinesiology professor. He beefs with Mr. Robinson all the time because he keeps stealing his best football players for his stupid little drama club. Clearly PE is superior because there's more sports scholarships than there are art, so Tom is really just bringing down the entire school. Mr. Massa is also a very chill teacher, he'll let you skip class so long as Mr. Patrick doesn't notice you're not at the all school assembly (because he will notice).

Ash: The overburdened AV instructor/school librarian/media specialist in the Theorist high school. For college, they are the media librarian that just wants you to return the dvd copy of Return of the King, LEE. Ash never has enough money or time in any incarnation but they are the most cheerful and bad ass LGBTQ+ student club advisor you've ever had. Lies to homophobic parents and says they're just a gaming club because you do usually end up discussing FNAF lore for hours until Ms. Cordato knocks on the door to politely kick you all out because its 5pm.

BONUS

Head Editor Dan: Animation professor or creative writing teacher at Theorist High. Also does freshmen homeroom so he's constantly in pain and in need of coffee. Gives off 'don't mess with me' vibes but is a real sweetheart if you get to know him. But what you don't know is that he's pitching five different tv pilots and one of these days he will just randomly disappear because his show was bought by ABC. Ten years from now you'll see his name in the credits of your favorite show as the Executive Producer.

[gala-xyzz]

to the idkhow community at large

holy shit i feel so nervous typing this up but here we go. i need to say this or i'm gonna feel awful for the rest my life

about seven or eight months ago i left this site due to some harrassment my sister and i were getting from people here. i'd made some statements about lgbt that upset some people, and we were getting lots of angry messages about "how could you be so homophobic" etc etc (not an actual quote but you get the idea)

well, to start, i would like to offer (what i hope is) an apology

i probably should never have made those remarks. to the people i offended, i'm sorry that i offended you, because i swear i never intended to do that. i want to be friends with all of you and i felt like i never got to explain what happened. if you see this, i sincerely hope we can become friends again, because everyone was so nice before the incident

i would also like to explain what happened from my point of view, because i felt that i was never given a fair chance to explain what happened on my end

some background: i come from a very strict home. my family is catholic, and they were very firm in making sure i wasn't exposed to most of modern culture, mostly via homeschooling and keeping me off of social media. as such, at the time of this all happening, i did not know much about lgbt or how to interact with people in that movement, especially without offending them

i was talking about some characters of mine, joking about how they had some gay tension between them, and another friend of mine, knowing my beliefs, was a bit confused about my stance on lgbt matters because of that and asked about it. i gave what i felt like was an approrpite answer, trying to stress that i was neutral about the matter and i was not going to attack people for being lgbt

turns out the phrasing i used offended some people, and it got me blocked by a couple of people. alright, i thought. it's only one or two people, i can maybe handle this

some months later, my sister was trying to join a discord server (i think that was it), and one of the blocked people mentioned my remarks about lgbt people again, which by that point i had forgotten about. that's when we started getting the angry dms and a lot os people blocked us

i was upset by this, as i have had a past history of losing friends. a lot of them, and not because of anything i did. it was mostly bullying and other shitty people. the situation then was beginning to feel (to me, at least), like one of those bullying incidents, especially because some of the messages came from people i considered close friends on here, so i got upset and left

it's been seven months now, and i'm trying to become a more accepting person. i've grown up in an environment where lgbt people are seen in a negative light, and i believe that is a wrong mindset. people are going to think how they will, and we need to be as accepting of that as we can

but this goes for the lgbt people, too. shunning someone for not understanding your ideas and beliefs does not help you, it only scares us away. and so i am hoping that maybe we can try again this time. maybe we can try to be friends again

and if you're still mad, please just give me a civil dm. don't call me names, don't insult me for my religion, etc etc

thank you for hearing me out :)

[jeanmoreausautismstickers]

things my best friend has said as marauders quotes

Sirius at James and Lily: don't breed. breed is bad.

Sirius: he (remus) would be a good stripper I think

James to Sirius: you're a hoe. but a lovely hoe

Barty: listen. I've cut open humans before and they have big breathing sacks-

Sirius about Regulus: he's a middle aged child

James explaining Sirius and Remus's relationship: they're besties...with benefits 😏

Peter: is there an ankle kink?

Regulus: because ALL ghosts just HAVE to be white don't they?

Evan, mispronouncing androgynous: yeah I feel a bit an-dro-gy-noose today

James: [sirius], please stop assaulting my pen

Evan: I'm a little German boy, I'm gonna get your toes with my little German boy fingers

Barty: give me the dead fetus, I have plans

Peter to Remus: do you have... a knee kink?

Marlene: I think the eggs for breakfast caused my period actually

Marlene: monkeys are the ancestors of cats

Barty, to Regulus: are you a keyboard? cos I'll play you like one

Sirius: I swear to [Merlin] I will sniff your arse

Sirius to Remus: can I unwrap you like a Christmas present?

Marlene: step-mummy please😩

Remus: no one likes a dog that vibrates [padfoot]

Mary: if a bee hit it from the back would it die before it could orgasm?

Peter: I think I could top a spoon

James to Lily: im not wearing anything under this mirror👀

Barty about Regulus: evil dick, giant brain

Sirius: haha [marlene] ate dick

Marlene: BOOBIES? WHERE

Lily, after a marauders prank: I could write a sixteen page essay on how much I wish I were a lesbian

Sirius when Remus walks in: hello sexy male

Sirius: a secret, third thing, my deep ass cheeks

Remus: Lma-no.

Remus: stop saying thick-arse rim!

Marlene, drunk: horse shoes don't go on horse cock, that's why they're horse shoes not horse condoms

Barty, about Regulus: I'd let him punch me for free, but you got PAID?

Sirius: [Regulus!] you devious little dog!

James: I can confirm, [Marlene] and my mum did not have sex to make me

Sirius: someone cummed in a glue bottle, that's why it's so hard

James, panicking to Pomfrey: MY JUGULAR IS JIGGLUNG

Remus: mate stop fingering the biscuit

James: I don't want your drug pens!

James at Marlene: stop underlining your nipple

Sirius: haha there's a man on your tit

James: my mum is not a man! nor a football!

Sirius: [Dumbledore] is a BOTTOM everyone

Barty: I'd be the one DOING the fucking, not getting fucked

Regulus: can I refer to you as a travelling circus?

Barty, in response to ^: well I am a walking joke

Sirius: if you're homophobic you get sent to bitch jail

James: I'm just too quirky for my own good

Sirius: does that mean pussy is dogwater

Sirius when Remus gets rid of his trousers: how much are you selling your arse fabric for?

Remus: I dare you to drink the bananas cum

Lily: I don't want to hold hands with Jesus, put him back on his cross

Sirius, after losing his virginity: I started celebrating because I got to touch arse

Remus: christ no I don't want to touch God's nuts

James when Remus gives him anything: thanks. it doesn't have weed on it, right?

Sirius: I'm like a bird hi-YAH oh shit I pulled a muscle

Remus: the wake up woman touched my penis

James: please stop serenading my father

Marlene: whore core?? I think you mean me when women

Sirius and Regulus about slow walkers: you know what career they can pursue? ROADBLOCKS

James: be careful. I'll beat you up with my Calvin Klein man muscles

James: im clutching my house keys

Effie, about Sirius: I saw him and I knew immediately I should put him in my child jar

Sirius after drinking water: im gonna break records with how much I piss today

Evan, seeing Sirius from afar: is that Jesus christ? why is he so white? absolutely translucent

Barty, holding Regulus's diary: I think this may be a gay sex book

baby James: what do you do? I'm a snot picker

Sirius: thaddeus with the phatteus

Sirius about Regulus: stop babygirl-ifying him! he is not babygirl material! I am :(

Barty: he was a man. probably a white one, there was a lot of audacity

Sirius: that is two cheeks too many mate

Sirius: give me the fathers I need to collect them

Remus: stop squeezing my fucking flange

Regulus: calm your foot before I eat it

Marlene: it dried my nose. it was so dry. drier than a straight man's wife, I'll tell you that

James: oh, you did competitive ballet when you were young? my parents loved me so I can't relate

James, trying to help Remus and Sirius get together: do you like balls bursting in your mouth?

Barty: stop playing with balls in your mouth

James, watching Regulus, Evan and Barty walk into the toilets: three men just walked into the loo, they might kiss~

Remus, trying to find a body wash: does this smell like weiner or hydrangea

Sirius when McGonagall: turn your bagpipes off for [Merlin's] sake

Evan: thumb me bitch

Sirius to Marlene: you already knew you liked women! you were in her boohs!

[thepermanentscowl]

i can, actually. he makes sense because otherwise you wouldn't have so many people liking you. bro EXACTLY. there are hardly any books for grown ups or young adults that aren't about the same thing. always, there's a protagonist couple who get together first and then fight once or twice and get back together and the side characters are either made for their comfort or are gay for the plot. either this or mythological retellings (which are better but still. everyone is doing it. there needs to be a limit.) no wonder we don't have many books like To Kill a Mockingbird (i love this book so fucking much i swear) or 1984 or Dorian Grey or Bose or- you get me. i'm going to die if in the future the adult-version-of-wattpad books are liked better than the classics. (and btw i read the white tiger. now THAT is a book. that is what books need to be like. controversial yes, but worth it.) uhh maybe i like the pyschoticness because i haven't actually read it. i was told she killed her kids? she drowned one of them? i can't remember properly. but i like exploring psycho characters. how they become their level of unstable. their unreasonably ruthless actions. there's a movie, Orphan. it's thriller, about a girl with, uhm, a weird personality. then there's Joker. and the Saw series. okay Saw is more gory. verity is that bad huh? i'm going to ask that friend to lend it to me. 

i said your bare minimum, not the general bare minimum. big difference between those two things. you know what's confusing over here? the cause and the effect. you say: "guys believe they are meant to be like this. and that's what makes girls believe they truly are like this." and so they make do with their available options. i agree. but then "girls are so into 'gentleman-ly' boys now because they've realised it's bullshit to be into someone who does not have basic respect for them. but the number of "gentleman-ly" guys at present is so painfully slim they will fall head over heels for someone who won't make ur mom jokes."- maybe the number of "gentleman-ly" guys is slim because of the girls. i know girls who date "masculine" guys because of the aesthetic. having a boy who goes gymming and can pick you up easily, who drives you, who is a little possessive, who takes you on dates and never the other way round. i know girls who do it for fame. some do it because of fomo. some do it to look cool. some do it for posting stories on insta where they can show off gifts they receive and post pictures of two people holding hands. what i'm trying to say is, it's like the girls have certain criterias which are very specific. you don't fulfill them, you can't date her. quoting you again here: "a girl would rather date a gym dude with a trash personality than a friendly guy with a bollywood obsession." if a guy wants to date a girl, he has to be like what the girl wants. i don't know why girls want specifically this, maybe because of society. you know the stereotype: guys can't be feminine and girls shouldn't be masculine. last week, they made it compulsory for us to have long hair in school. you can't have boycut hair. those who had it have been asked not to cut it anymore. and in our brother school, you can't have long hair. now the opposite of this also holds true. girls are more inclined towards dating masculine guys because that's how they build themselves. boys thinking that they have to "be a man," that they have to crack sexist and homophobic jokes, have to make a body, have to be tough enough to fight and always enjoy adult stuff (some people believe a guy cannot be raped. he's always going to enjoy it right?) guys think they don't have to cook, guys think they cannot use makeup, guys don't show their feelings. if a guy tries to be soft, he's made fun of, he's ragged. why do they do all this? where did it start? why haven't they stopped? because society has not stopped being like this? because it's what girls want? is it that the girls want what they want because that's all there is, or do the guys become like they are because that is what is expected of them? 

i would know it because i’d be able to understand his thoughts as they would be very obviously plastered on his face in the form of his expressions. he’s thinking, “damn this boy is a cutie and a hottie.” and then he’ll probably be checking you out. you wouldn’t know because you would be busy staring into his soul. besides, i am all-knowing. 

this is really random but i find air hostesses very intimidating.

why?? aren't they just pretty ladies helping us around?

[mulletmitsuya]

Toman groupchat

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, homophobia (as a joke), and one poop mention

Desc: the boys are trying to find out how cat boys defecate

Mikey: it doesn't matter

Mikey: if Kazutora was a real cat boy he would shit in a litter box

Mikey: that's all i'm saying🤷‍♂️

Baji: don't say that then tf??

Mitsuya: usually i don't ask but this seemed unprovoked

Mitsuya: what are you guys talking about

Mitsuya: i'm gonna regret asking this tbh

Kazutora: i shit in the toilet just fine thank you

Kazutora: and i never claimed to be a cat boy😭. i'm just a boy that loves cats

Mikey: you said, and i quote "yeah i think i'm a catboy"

Mikey: fucking slut

Draken: then leave him alone? like what's the issue

Mikey: oh here comes sensible Ken-chin to save the day with his common sense that will most likely save hours of arguing���

Draken: 😐

Kazutora: ok fine maybe i said that but i didn't mean it like that. i meant i was a boy who also happened to like cats. Mikey you aren't listening to me

Kazutora: also why am i a slut???

Chifuyu: i mean

Kazutora: bro??

Chifuyu: no i'm joking lol

Baji: he's not

Mikey: it's your waist

Mikey: and your piercings

Mikey: you're a literal whore

Draken: Mikey

Draken: shut the fuck up

Baji: go fuck his sister to spite him

Draken: dude

Draken: can you ever be normal

Baji: nah

Kazutora: nothing's wrong with my waist?

Baji: you wear crop tops sometimes

Mikey: and your twink like, feminine like, small torso tempts those around you

Baji: don't get me started on those nipple piercing bruh, had me creaming all over the place

Mikey: chill😕

Mitsuya: of course

Mitsuya: of course this is an argument you guys are having

Kazutora: I'M JUST STANDING HERE???

Chifuyu: yeah guys leave him alone

Baji: are you typing with both hands? 🤨

Chifuyu: yes????

Chifuyu: 😭

Smiley: these damned homosexuals bruh

Smiley: sorry thought i was dming Angry

Angry: homosexuals are fine!

Angry: Smiley's homophobic, not me

Angry: please keep that in mind

Angry: i was going to reply with something along the lines "well i like gay people because they slay"

Kazutora: idk man i just feel like i'm being attacked for no reason

Mikey: stop being slutty then!

Baji: only be slutty in our apartment bro

Baji: problem solved 👍

Mikey: wait

Mikey: bro chill i was joking

Mikey: dress anyway you like fr

Draken: don't listen to them Kazutora, they're all delusional

Kazutora: ok...

Kazutora: i am a boy that likes cats and that is all

Hakkai: sorry to interrupt

Hakkai: but does that mean that Inupi's a dog boy

Koko: puppy boy in particular

Angry: bro came out of nowhere

Mikey: lol

Mikey: came out

Mikey: get it

Mikey: cause he's gay

Angry: i believe it's bi

Kazutora: i don't think it's gay to think Inupi's hot

Mikey: why not

Kazutora: he's pretty like a girl

Mikey: he has a dick and balls

Kazutora: ok fine 🙁

Smiley: koko and inupi

Smiley: they're the gays i hate the most tbh

Draken: dude can u stop 🤨

Smiley: no

Smiley: watch me tell Emma you're half gay

Draken: she knows mf😐

Smiley: i wanna call you guys a homophobic slur so bad rn

Kazutora: dude you can't do that

Kazutora: it'll hurt Baji's feelings

Baji: nah i'll just beat his ass

Kazutora: lol cause you're gay

Baji: ...

Baji: yeah?

Kazutora: what?

Baji: yeah? cause i like dudes?

Kazutora: ...

Kazutora: 😯

Baji: ain't no way bruh

Mikey: Tora you fucking idiot man

Draken: L

Kazutora: what'd i do???

Baji: did u think me being attracted to men was a joke

Kazutora: yes...

Kazutora: it's not??

Chifuyu: 😟

Baji: so all the times i physically grabbed your ass...that didn't ring a bell?

Mikey: or the times he stared deeply into your eyes and told you he loved you

Kazutora: i thought you were being sus with the homies

Baji: c'mon man

Baji: bro this isn't even funny

Baji: i thought we had smth fr

Mikey:

Mikey: Kazutora rn lol

Chifuyu: 💀

Draken: lmao

Smiley: Draken chuckled ☺

Smiley: he found the joke funny🤣🤣🤣🤣

Draken: let's go outside

Smiley: nah bruh you gon beat my ass

Kazutora: Baji let's talk bruh

Angry: he emphasized the 'bruh' which means he doesn't have romantic feelings for you

Angry: sorry Baji

Baji: fuck off megamind pubes head ass

Mikey:

Mikey: Baji rn

Baji: i'm gonna shove a cactus in every crevice of you body

Mikey: bro's mad

Baji: ayt

*Baji has gone offline*

Mikey: bro thinks i'm scared

Draken: why r you trying to find a place to hide

Mikey: i'm just looking for my phone

Draken: ...alr

Draken: ...

Mitsuya: what

Draken: Baji

Draken: where'd you get a cactus that big that fast?????

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

Wedding-seasonal depression.

Quick summary: What if Pierce actually did get married to Wu Mei way back when in the second season? You and Jeff are both struggling to come to terms with the fact that this is Pierce’s eighth time getting married, while you’re both still sad and single and alone. You decide to take your frustrations out on each other.

Word count: 7.8K

Warnings: SMUT (you have been warned, this is essentially porn with a lil’ plot), but it's not like super kinky; lots of swearing; first time writing second-person, so buckle up, I guess; kind of angsty (??); many suppressed feels.

A/N: Hey, guys, what’s up 😃🌈🦶! Uhhhh, I know this fic is a little random, but I’ve literally had this story in my drafts for six months. Since then, I have finished the entire Community show and have brought you this gem of a smut fic for Jeff Winger (particularly Jeff Winger with a fuckin’ beard 😩😩😩 he’s such an asshole). Please excuse my horrible attempts at dirty talk. Also, this is the first fic I’ve written in second person, soooooo I’m sorry if it’s, like, bad. Okay, enjoy!! :)))

***

You know, the wedding is perfectly nice. You have nothing against weddings. Apart from the strangely sexist ceremonies (as Britta will agree), the giving away of the daughter to her new owner kind of thing, the virginal unveiling thing, they’re perfectly fine. There’s free alcohol, free food, dancing, friends – sounds pretty nice at first, doesn’t it? Yeah, you’d think that, wouldn’t you? Except, now, the only kind of enjoyment you can feel is the pleasure of yet another scotch burning its way down your throat. You’ve had three, now, and it’s only a matter of time before they start to kick in. And you don’t come to weddings just to get drunk, okay? Your friend is getting married today, and no matter how blatantly racist and sexist and homophobic he is on a daily basis, you want to support his happiness (Annie forced you to come).

The fact that it’s Pierce getting married (again) hasn’t really hit you yet. Pierce. Pierce who talks about women like they’re objects, who treats them like they have a fucking expiry date, who has had his shot at marriage several times before, is now at the altar again, having another wedding while some of you are left to wallow in your own self-pity and loneliness until the night’s end.

You ask the bartender for another scotch.

You swivel in your stool to survey the venue – tables are dotted all throughout the hotel’s expansive ballroom, swathed with elegant white tablecloths, with elaborate centrepieces of white lilies and tulips and curling ferns to adorn. The ceiling reaches up, up, up, and intricate moulding compliments and fills its area, leading to the elevated centre where a glimmering, twisting chandelier dangles, its large gems scattering rainbow light here and there around the room. It’s pretty – the bride knew what she was doing. Pierce had refused to get involved in any of the wedding preparation because, and you quote, “it’s a woman’s job”. When you asked him what a man’s job was, he had looked at you condescendingly, as if it were as plain as day, and said, “To attend the bachelor party, of course.” You didn’t blink or breathe for a whole ten, fifteen seconds, you believe – you thought he was joking at first. But you shouldn’t’ve underestimated Pierce and his miraculous ability to infuriate you. Lord knows why anyone would want to marry him.

Your table – the study group’s table – is right in the corner of the room. The location is a little questionable (you’re all pretty sure the bride detests you for being more important than she is to Pierce, and you don’t blame her at all—but, you know, she could’ve sat you a little closer to the snack bar is all you’re saying), and it’s not close to the altar, it’s not close to the buffet, or the bar, or the toilets, or the band. But, of course, the group has found its own way to keep everyone entertained. Abed and Troy have napkin hats placed on their heads, acting out some movie scene, you’re sure, and Britta’s well on her way to becoming black-out drunk by the time the vows start, and Shirley’s trying to figure out the recipe of the cheesecake Annie ordered, reaching over the table for another forkful and another and another, face scrunched up in deathly concentration as she tries to identify the ingredients by taste. Poor Annie, you think to yourself, but you’re smiling.

Your eyes immediately start searching for Jeff. It’s an unconscious thing that you do every time you enter a room. You just want to make sure he hasn’t done anything stupid yet. And if you know anything at all about him, he’s going to be glowering the whole night away, rolling around in his bitterness, torn between his jealousy that Pierce gets to be married (again) and between his fiery disdain of weddings. He’s just a little bit too much like you – that’s how you can foresee his scowl when he approaches the bar, how you just know his hands will be shoved childishly in his pockets, and that he’ll roll his eyes when some bridesmaid will stop him and ask how he knows the groom. It happens just like clockwork. Jeff thinks he’s some wildcard, but, in reality, he’s so predictable.

“I’m actually the head of what used to be his favourite escort business. He was one of my best customers, but, uh—” he hisses cynically, “—you can’t win ‘em all, can you?”

You smile. He’s predictable until he opens his mouth.

The bridesmaid looks absolutely horrified. She leaves promptly with wide eyes and an open mouth, trying to stifle a laugh for the sake of her friendship with the bride.

A self-satisfied look overcomes Jeff’s face – he’s probably laughing internally at one of his own jokes again – and then his attention shifts up over to you, and his gleaming eyes grace themselves upon yours. He’s such an ass.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself,” you snort, turning back to the bar and digging your nail back into this narrow groove in its mahogany surface – maybe, if you’re patient enough, you’’ll soon be able to carve your initials into it forever. Jeff steps up onto the platform that perimeters the bar, sighing from deep within his chest as he slumps himself forward in the viridian, velvet-cushioned stool beside you. “You could have at least pretended to be nice for a few seconds.” While your manner is joking, there’s an underlying seriousness to your words. He needs to stop introducing himself as a prick to everyone – it’s off-putting.

But he just grins over at you – it’s hard not to smile back. “That was me being nice, I’ll have you know,” he says meaningfully, “and it just kills me—” he slaps a hand right across his heart, “—to know you don’t think I’m genuine.”

“She looked abhorred, Jeff. Abhorred.”

He scoffs violently. “Don’t say she looked abhorred, okay? She did not look abhorred.” Then, a pause. Then, “What does ‘abhorred’ mean?”

Oh, Jeff. You’d think that, what with his lawyer days (or rather, his days faking a law degree), he’d have a better vocabulary than he actually does. You’re pretty sure he looks up fancy words in his free time, just to impress people, most of which he doesn’t even know. You can just picture it: Him, sitting in the armchair of his ridiculously clean apartment, a dictionary in his lap, a thesaurus to the side, trying to comprehend what “sporadically” means so that he can use it in class the day after. You haven’t proven this theory yet, and Jeff always avoids the question, but you’re 100% convinced that this act is entirely true.

“It means horrified, Jeff,” you deadpan. You watch him make a mental note to use that in conversation later.

He hums lowly, and you let out a long sigh. Wordlessly, the both of you turn your heads to look back at your table. There are a few, special moments in life where someone will resonate so much with another’s feelings that they feel as if the two of them have become melded together. The borders of their mind will collapse, and that shared emotion will just mingle between the two of them like a strange, little ghost. It’s like that now, with you. It’s a melancholy type of feeling. You both can’t quite place the sadness, even as you’re looking on at the happy study group, and you can say that, with confidence, Jeff feels lonely. Just like you. You can feel the ache in his heart.

But, as quick as the intimacy came, it disappears again. Jeff swallows hard and frowns down at the counter, clearing his throat before commenting drily, “So, this sucks, huh? The wedding and everything.”

You nod.

“I just don’t get why Pierce is the one who gets to get married. Like, why not one of us or something? It’s just kind of unfair.” And then he stops abruptly, inhaling sharply like he’s just broken some kind of code. You nudge him and ask if he’s alright, to which he responds with, “You’re not gonna tell any of the others about this, are you? I don’t want Pierce finding out and having one of his little tantrums again.”

“He wouldn’t throw a tantrum,” you smile, completely missing the trust he’s putting in you right now. “If anything, he’d gloat about how you, the Jeff Winger, are jealous of him.”

He scoffs exaggeratedly. “I am not jealous of Pierce.” Jeff doesn’t admit to being jealous of anyone, but it’s always obvious when he is – his sarcasm will somehow double, his face will squint up into a semi-permanent, sour expression, and his voice will up an octave or two if he’s feeling extra shitty. It’s always funny to see him try to keep it together. That man’s got an ego like no other. Under his breath, he finishes, “No more jealous than you are.”

Damn.

Truth is, even though you’re fucking bitter as can be about Pierce getting married, you know that you have no actual desire to ever enter matrimony. It’s not a Britta “fuck marriage as a whole” type of thing; it’s a “wow, someone is achieving something, and you are achieving nothing” kind of situation. What can you say?—it’s your toxic trait. Anyone “beating” you at anything is enough to discourage you from that sector as a whole. If you’re not naturally gifted, what’s the point? Not to say that Pierce is gifted at relationships. No, he’s just rich. It takes everything in you not to strangle him whenever he opens his goddamn mouth. But you just suck at navigating true, meaningful romantic connections with people, and having to watch Pierce enjoy a pretty party and tick off that milestone (again) is just a kick straight to the fucking vagina.

But you’re not going to say all that to Jeff Winger of all people. So, you suck it up, deepen your scowl, and say, “Ah, yes, ever since I was a foetus, my one goal in life has been to wed a person half my age so that they can drain me of my non-existent fortune and give me pity sex for the rest of my shrivelled-up, little life.”

“Can’t tell if that’s sarcasm or not, ‘cause that actually has been my goal since I was a foetus,” Jeff whips back, and you snort. His grin widens.

Stupid Jeff Winger and his stupid Jeff-Winger smile. You hate it when he does that with his fuckin’ face. It’s infuriating. He’s infuriating. You always feel it tugging at your stomach adamantly whenever you’re in his proximity and he does that, and it’s unsettling. Could be annoyance, could be something else. You’re not ready to explore that.

“Anyway, you wanna go find a back room and fuck?”

The words are so swift and casual that you have to take a moment to realise that that is not something normal people say when attending their friend’s wedding and having a conversation at the bar with their completely platonic other friend who has never before made any hints towards attraction.

You turn and blink hard at Jeff, your lungs buffering in your chest.

“What?” you stress to him.

He darts his eyes away from the great hall and shuffles them back to you like he has all the time in the world, like he hasn’t just said what he just said. He raises his eyebrows innocently and politely continues, “Oh, sorry, I just thought that was where this conversation was going.”

The commotion of the party, to your surprise, carries on as usual.

Your wrists are numb with shock, and they’re sparking with what you think might actually be excitement. Did Jeff really just say those words out loud? Are you angry about it? You can’t fucking tell.

Instead of addressing the problem, you swallow thickly, hoping he won’t notice, and ask through an incredulous scoff, “Is this how you get people to have sex with you?” Would you be mad about that? About the fact that he’s just asked, essentially, to sleep with you, right to your face, right in public, at Pierce’s wedding, where there are people that you know and that can see you clearly from where they’re sitting? God, do you look as thrown-off as you feel right now? You would hope to die before looking thrown-off in front of Jeff Winger. The very Jeff Winger that’s finishing your drink off for you and watching you amusedly from over the rim of the glass, smiling his fucking smile to himself as he watches you glitch and hesitate like a browser with too many tabs open.

“Don’t say the s-word,” he hisses patronisingly, narrowing his gaze, leaning closer to you, glancing warily around the room. “There are children.”

“You just said fuck.”

“Yes. Yes, I did. And also, would you like to?”

He’s analysing your expression with fond eyes, you see from your peripheral vision, setting your glass back on the counter gently as he waits, all patient, for your answer, for your reaction. This is probably the most patient he’s ever been in his life. It’s certainly the most patient you’ve ever seen him, and you’ve seen him through a lot.

You tell him (a little breathlessly), “You’re fuckin’ crazy.”

He lowers his voice. “Did I read the situation wrong?”

There’s a silence that’s far too long to be salvageable. Then, a flustered, “No.”

Jeff raises his eyebrows, like he’s impressed with himself, and he looks smugly up at the ceiling. Damn him, you think to yourself. And, sweet Jesus, he has pretty nice hands. You also think to yourself that he has—he has pretty nice hands. Nice hands fixing the cuffs of his shirt and jacket. Nice hands scratching at that awful thing he calls a beard. Nice hands shoved in his pockets all nice-like. Nice hands that you’re sure can do a lot of—nice—things. Jeff clears his throat, and your attention snaps back to where it belongs.

“So,” he drawls. “Back room?”

And just like that, his pick-up somehow works for you. Somehow, you end up stumbling into the janitor’s closest, and you’re shushing each other and telling each other to be quiet as he helps you on top of the wobbly desk. It’s clumsy and fast and you’re both more than a little drunk. “Ow!” he exclaims when you accidentally elbow him in the ribs. Maybe it’s that you’re both just extremely lonely at this wedding – you’ve both kind of realised that you may just have to spend forever alone, that Pierce has a better chance of getting married than you do, that happiness might not be for you after all. And that’s always a nice thing to hear. You just want solace, and both of you are fighting for that by getting it on in a barely sanitary janitor’s room. Think of it—as a favour for a friend. Yeah. You think, with Jeff, the Jeff who blunders over a bucket when he tries to kiss you, it’s just pheromones and genetics doing their thing. Skin-deep. That’s your excuse as you grab him by the tie and press your lips to his as he positions his arms either side of you to keep himself from falling. “Your hair smells kinda nice,” he tells you before he helps zip down your dress, and you slide down your underwear.

He goes down on you first, after you both mock each other about who you bet is gonna finish first. “Oh, I’ve spoken with Britta about you,” you’d said lowly, smiling, and his eyes filled with sweet, sweet defeat. “Yeah, she told me everything—One-Minute Wonder.”

And this had gotten little, insecure Jeff all riled up. “Alright,” he huffed, voice scraping against his throat like he hadn’t had anything to drink for a week. “Alright, we’ll see who cums first, then, huh, doll?” And instead giving you one of those classic Winger smiles, he whispered a request for permission to use his mouth on you. You didn’t even have a response to that. He kneeled down in front of you, hands eagerly spread on your thighs, and his breathing was slightly uneven as he awaited your answer. It made you feel some type of way. You gave a quick nod and shuffled forward to meet his hot mouth. When his tongue delved deep inside your cunt, all coherent thoughts went straight out the door, and now you’re weeping into the back of your hand and clenching down your teeth down on your fingers, trying your best not to cry out.

Now, there are a few things you do to try and stop yourself from finishing immediately: you try clenching your legs together, but this only makes Jeff moan right into your pussy, and that doesn’t do you any good at all; you pull lightly at his hair and scratch at his back and his neck and his arms, holding on for dear life, but he only grows more enthusiastic; and you try insulting him under your breath (“twat”, “asshole”), but he just chuckles into you, and you have to bite down on your knuckles all over again, wrestling with that increasingly violent fluttering feeling in your legs.

Near the end of it, you just give up that bet with Jeff; you’ll cum, you’ll finish first, you’ll lose the bet, and you’ll do whatever you can to get to it. You grind shyly, and then shamelessly, against Jeff’s face, finding a delicious friction with his beard, a lovely contrast to the soft, velvet slickness of his tongue – that is, until he uses his hands to press your hips firmly back down onto the table, rendering you powerless to his actions.

You’re just about to finish when he pulls away. You think it’s a mistake at first, trying to lower him back down onto you with your hand cradling his head, but then you catch sight of a shit-eating grin wanting to take over his face, and you whine out, “Jesus Christ, Jeff, don’t be mean!”

“C’mon, honey, I thought the point of the bet was to not cum. You don’t wanna lose, do you?” His chin is still slick with you and he’s talking to you like you’re not hot and flustered and half-naked for him in a fucking supply room, on the brink of an orgasm, legs shaking like there’s no tomorrow. What a fucking prick, you think to yourself. You’re still gonna fuck him, of course, but he’s still a prick to you, and nothing will ever change that. “What? Can’t talk anymore?”

“I’m about this close—” you narrow my index finger and thumb down to a microscopic space between, “—to leaving you alone in here with blue balls, Winger. You hear me?”

He stands up and massages your legs gently, almost tenderly, and makes you forget, just for a second, that you’re probably another one of his escapades, another one-night stand, just another girl for him to forget in the morning. “Aw, just look at you,” Jeff taunts, twisting his face up in mock-sympathy as you scramble to regain control. “You’re cute when you’re angry, you know that?” His nose brushes up against yours. He comes in real close and whispers against the shell of your ear, “You know, I think you just might get us caught, sweets. I think you’re gonna be crying out my name by the time we’re done, and all those wedding guests are gonna be shocked at the dirty things I’ve done to you and you’ve done to me. You think you’re gonna be able to walk right when they ask us to come out this room? Or do you think everyone’s gonna know how hard I fucked you in here, how I fucked you senseless, how I fucked you so good that you can barely sit down without thinkin’ ‘bout how my cock felt up inside of you?” Your clit throbs painfully. How can it not? You try to snake your own hand between your legs, but Jeff softly moves it away and kisses your shoulder. “Hmm? So, which is it?”

“I think I want you inside of me,” you say breathlessly, needily. Yes, you knew that Jeff likes to sleep around a lot, you knew that he was experienced, you knew that he knows how to get someone hot—but you didn’t really prepare for this. How many other girls has he had in the janitor’s room? How many other girls has he had at a wedding?

“I think I want to play with you for a little while longer,” he replies huskily, and you very nearly finish right on the table. You take his hand and guide it between your glistening thighs, taking him through the way you like to be touched, and he soon takes control, finding out what makes you squirm and what makes you bite into his shoulder and scratch at his back. Jeff has always been a person who loves knowing that he’s good at something, that he’s in charge, that he’s in control – it’s not hard to figure out he loves praise. So, when you tell him, “You’re doing so well,” and he kisses you roughly, hand in your hair, and pinches your clit, you take satisfaction again in his predictability. You yelp right into his mouth, brimming with smugness. Then, he dips a finger into your cunt, and maybe the attitude is punched out of you, but you lose a little respect for yourself with how eagerly you sigh out. After a while, he asks if he can add another, and you agree, grinding against the heel of his palm.

What you’re really scared of is that he won’t let you cum again, that he’s into edging, and that you’re going to be denied the sweet release you’ve been craving for what seems like years, now. “Let me cum, please,” you say, kissing his neck. “I’ll go down on you later, but just please don’t edge me again.” Ew. You hate how desperate you sound. You’re usually a little more dignified than this. Jeff’s there, quick-witted and sharp-tongued as always, and you’re sitting here, tongue-tied and helpless. This is sort of the most bottom you’ve ever been, give or take. With sex with other people, there was a mutual bond rather than a power dynamic, but, here, there’s a very clear distinction. It makes you a little uncomfortable. You’d feel, oh, so much better if it were you saying all those dirty things to Jeff, making him sweat with his cock on your tongue, being the one he asks for permission to cum. But you’re saving that fantasy for another time – you don’t have the willpower to do anything like that today, not when Jeff wants to be in charge right now.

And maybe it’s your imagination, but he grows just that little bit harder at the desperation in your voice. Maybe he should let you cum, since you asked so nicely.  “You don’t have to go down on me,” he says, even though he’d definitely love to see your pretty, little mouth wrapped around his cock. Instead, he reaches down and starts to kiss and lick and suck and bite at your breasts, making sure to linger at the swell of them – he has an odd thing for that area between your side and your breast, that little swell, you both learn, and he strokes that area tenderly with one hand as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.

When you finish around his fingers, he licks them clean and wipes the rest on the little square handkerchief in his pocket. He’s going to save that for later, he decides. Say he gets hard at night thinking about you and needs the smell of you to get off—or maybe he’ll just tease you at the post-vows dinner and make eye contact when he presses the damp fabric against his nose, just to see you clench your thighs together. Who knows? You, on the other hand, are only just realising that he’s still fully clothed. You are as naked as the day you were born, and he’s still prim and smart and handsome in that navy-blue suit and tie.

Pulling him closer to you by his belt, you fumble with the buckle as you tell him, “I’ll go down on you.” You just want a grasp of control after him having seen you so bare, so vulnerable. You don’t know if you’ll be able to face him after this if you just don’t get his dick in your mouth right now – it’s a strange logic, yes, but there’s no stopping you.

Jeff watches you passively as you frantically undo his belt, somewhat enjoying seeing you so flustered and out of control. It doesn’t only feed into his desire and lust, but it also adds to that weird, warm feeling in his gut, one that he hasn’t really experienced before. He can’t quite figure out what it is – heartburn, maybe; indigestion? – but he’s not stupid, and he’s a little suspicious, so before his tipsy subconscious can come to that terrifying conclusion, he tells you, “Can you spread your legs for me?” At your surprise, he adds, “Please?” Just to be nice.

“So fucking demanding, aren’t you?” you huff, but you do as you’re told, gut wriggling with apprehension.

He kisses you nice and slow, storing this memory in his mind carefully for later, trying to be the most genuine he can because, at the end of the day, you’re his friend, his good friend, and he would never do anything to harm or lose you. If he’s going to fuck you, he’s going to do it nicely, the way you’d fuck a friend (I don’t know). You remove his jacket as he loosens his tie, and he unbuttons his shirt as you tug down his trousers and his underwear. He rifles through his wallet for a condom, and you make fun of him for carrying a condom in his wallet (“You’re such a skeez, Jeff.”; “Hey, you’re fucking this skeez!”).

You both have a brief moment, a brief pause, of should-they-shouldn’t-they – after all, you’re going to have to see each other practically every day after this, at school, at the study group, at lunch, at hangouts. But then, you tell him, “Well, get on with it, then,” and he e-e-eases into you, taking his goddamn sweet time with it, letting you grasp at his arms and his back and his waist and his neck and hair and face and chest. He loves how handsy you are. You try not to be so vocal – you don’t want his ego growing any bigger than it currently is – but your touchiness always gives you away. And it makes him feel special as well – you’re not the most affectionate person usually, and you rarely give out hugs and touches and pats like some of the other members of the study group, so the fact that you’re touching him so much and so freely makes him feel blessed.

When he thrusts up into you, you bite into his shoulder again, and he nearly loses it. There’s a sinful, explicit, wet noise that’s made when he moves in and out of you, and it’s almost enough to make him cum on the spot. He’s suppressing his moans, now, trying to do well for you, trying to be good, be strong, be satisfying enough for you.

“Good girl,” he chokes out when you whine high in your throat for him – he says it more to himself than to you, feeling the need to give praise after receiving it, wanting to make you feel as good as he is (say what you will about Jeff, but he’s respectful when he wants to be). But little does he know that you love being called that. Some weird insecurity issue is probably to blame, but you whimper for him and clench around his length, making his hips stutter and his pace falter. He decides to play around a bit, just to see how far he can push you while you’re sedated like this – usually, you’d be up to speed, quick and sharp-tongued and tough and sickly sweet, but, now, he has you a mess in his hands. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” he chuckles darkly. “You’re such a good girl for me. Such a good—” he thrusts harder, “—little—” harder, “—girl.”

All you can do is gasp and try to take it well. You can barely form words – it’s like you’re drunk. Well, you are drunk. Of course, you know you’ll have a hard time getting rid of this picture – this picture of him panting and sweating, of his mischievously glinting eyes, of his large hands digging right into your hips and thighs and waist – and you’re probably going to get yourself hot later just thinking about it. You blame him. You blame him for all of it. He’ll probably forget about it in a heartbeat, you think to yourself. He’s Jeff Winger, after all – ladies’ man, professional man-whore, completely indifferent to everything all of the time. You try to plan ahead, try to plan for later when you’re sad and alone and hating your body and hating your life choices, but then Jeff moans breathily into your ear, and you’re right back in the moment. You curl your legs tightly around his waist, letting your head fall back as he takes further control.

“You know, I think this is the first time you haven’t had some comeback ready to go, isn’t it, hon?” he says, then softly biting your earlobe. You can only choke out a moan. “Thank you for that addition.”

You groan and roll your eyes. “I fuckin’ hate you,” you say in a feeble attempt to put up your guard again.

“No, you’re just fucking me, actually.”

You sob dryly into his shoulder, and Jeff starts to encourage you a little, probably the kindest he’s ever been during sex: “Come on, darlin’, why don’t you cum for me? You’re doing so well, you know that?” And that just sets you over the edge. You finish, body quivering, exhausted, and slump right forward onto Jeff’s chest. He somehow manages to hold on – he’s not done yet, and he’s going to want to drag this out for as long as he can, that much he knows. He plants his hands on the table, either side of you, and rests his head forwards on your shoulder, panting.

“Nice one, Jeff,” you say to him awkwardly. What does one say to the friend they’ve just fucked? There’s no right thing, of course, but you know straight away that that was definitely a wrong thing.

But he laughs. “We just fucked the shit out of each other, and that’s what you’ve got to say to me?”

“Well, what am I supposed to say?”

“I dunno,” he tells you, and he genuinely doesn’t.

You stay like that for a while, him laying light kisses on your shoulder and neck, you running your hand gently through his hair, both confused as to what to do now. That is, until you point out, “You’re still hard, huh?” You can feel him throbbing painfully inside of you. This must be torture for him – you’ve finished twice, now, and him none.

“Yeah,” he replies. “I was gonna wait for a better time, but.”

“I don’t think there is a better time in this situation.”

Jeff swallows thickly, throat suddenly dry as he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. His dick twitches inside you when you grin up at him, and you pretend not to notice (but, oh, you’ll definitely remember it the next time you smile at him). He’s quite nervous, and he can’t pinpoint why. His brain’s just still a little too fuzzy to really process any coherent thoughts, even despite that sobering experience just then, but, again, he isn’t stupid – he knows what that knotted feeling in his chest probably is – so, before he has the chance to figure out what he already knows, he asks you, “Can you turn around? Bet you feel real good when I have you bent over this desk.”

“What a charmer,” you mumble under your breath. You know that’s about as sweet as he gets. You’re about to turn around for him when he surprises you:

“Of course, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He strokes your arms nicely. “We can go back to the party if that’s what you’d prefer, have a few more drinks, make fun of Pierce a little. Or we could try something you decide on. Got a favourite position? I’m sure we could make do with the space we have in here – maybe move a few buckets and boxes around, and we’re good. What do you like?”

Your mind goes completely blank, except for one very clear thought: “You’re what I like.” Not out loud, of course. You’d probably do anything he wanted right about now. You half-expect him to pull a 180 and say something snarky or sarcastic, but he doesn’t. He just kisses your cheek sweetly and waits for your answer. What do you like? You don’t even know anymore, and yet you’re getting wetter than ever before. Your breath is picking up, now. “You know,” you mumble, trying to contain your nerves, “the usual: a little light asphyxiation, a bit of hair pulling. I dunno. What else is there? I guess overstimulation can be nice sometimes. And, you know, I liked it—” a blush starts to form on your cheeks, “—I liked it when you...”

“Liked it when I what?”

“You know,” you huff frustratedly. “Said all those nice things to me.”

Jeff raises his eyebrows. “Praise?” Internally, he smiles to himself – he likes that he shares that in common with you. “Don’t worry, I like it, too.”

“Nice to know.” You maintain a neutral expression, but your clit is fucking beating right now, and your cunt is dripping wet. Your efforts not to clench around Jeff are herculean.

“Well, how do you want it?” he asks you brazenly, the usual Winger way. Okay, now, you squeeze tight around him, and Jeff presses his hands around your thighs in response—but, outwardly, the two of you are perfectly normal about this. “I can dial it back a little if you wanna take charge.” His eyes darken just slightly. “I don’t mind.” And that’s genuine enough – he certainly doesn’t mind the mental image of you with your fingers wrapped around his cock, teasing him as he whimpered and begged for a release, completely submissive to you in the moment. He wouldn’t mind that at all.

You grip the edge of the table and run a tongue over your teeth briefly. “I can turn around.”

“Really?” he asks. “You want to?”

“I want to.”

“Alright then,” he says, smiling. “Better get to it. We don’t want the others realising we’re gone, now, do we?” And you shake your head in response. Now that Jeff’s a little nicer, you’re more comfortable around him. He realises it, too, and so he allows himself to do the things he normally wouldn’t, brushing your hair out of your face for you and really looking into your eyes. Sex sort of became meaningless for him sometime along his life, full of emptiness and loneliness even in that intimate act – that’s the trouble he gets for sleeping his way out of his problems. And so, looking in his partner’s eyes has always brought him some type of shame – he’d always close his eyes and power through it. But you’re nice. You’re familiar. You’re safe and warm and soft. It might be a little to do with the friend thing, but, even when he was with Britta, he never felt this type of comfort, this okay-ness, this general acceptance. It was nice to have, for once: a friend.

He carefully pulls out of you, and then you turn around and bend over the table. Jeff almost stops breathing at the sight in front of him. And it’s not bad, don’t worry – he’s just a bit dramatic. “Jesus Christ,” he curses, and he moves his hands to massage gently at your hips. “You’re so fuckin’ wet.” And it’s true. Slick spills down your thighs, some of it slathered across the table and a fair amount dripping down onto the ground below them. That’s the type of stuff you see in pornos, he thinks amusedly to himself, and he continues to stare in awe at your cunt. Now, what Jeff really wants to do is to kneel down and lay his tongue flat against you. But he controls himself, and, instead, just sucks it up and praises you for it; “Keep that sort of energy up, yeah?”

“You sound like you’re a key-note speaker addressing an assembly of seven year-olds,” you say to him as he places his hands on your ass, spreading the sides apart slightly, his dick straining when he catches a better view of your aching cunt, and then he runs two fingers along your slit – he grows silent for a few heartbeats, amazed at how easily you drip down the length of his fingers and onto his wrist. You then turn back to see him place those fingers in his mouth, and you turn back around, blushing, before he can notice.

“Ah, so you’re into role-play?” he teases, lining himself up with your entrance.

“Sh—” but Jeff is already pushing into you, heavy and strong and thick; you try to continue your sentence without your voice shaking, “—shut u-up.”

He continues all the way to the hilt, and both of you use your hands to hold onto something for stability, his on your hips, and yours flat on the table. “You know,” he says as he bends over you, chest against your back, one hand coming to rest on the wall by your head, coaxing a pant or two out of you as he does so, “it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Role-play’s good once in a while.”

“Uh-huh,” you manage breathily. “You sound like you’re covering up a deeply concerning fantasy, there.”

“Don’t shame me.”

“We all know what it stands for, Jeff. ‘Role-play’s good once in a while.’ Really? Show me where you hid the goddamn body.”

He exhales amusedly through his nose. “I feel like you’re just trying to ease in with your officer-perp kink.” And he’s just casually gri-i-i-in-ding up against you, carefully pushing you back down so that your stomach is flat against the table, his lips pressing kisses into your hair and upon your shoulder blades as he starts to find a pace.

“It’s h-hot, okay?” you stutter out, trying to continue the conversation. It’s true enough – police officers can be hot when they want to be, and Jeff would certainly make for an interesting experience in that sector. Not that you were planning to sleep with him again. Fantasies are what’s discussed between a couple – it’s not really something you tell a one-night stand, especially if that one-night stand happens to be one of your closest friends who would never let you forget anything embarrassing you did—ever.

“Really?” Jeff says through a smile, though, now, even he’s having trouble composing himself. He should’ve cum when he could’ve – he feels like he’s about to give way any second, but he, oh, so wants to finish inside of you while you crumble apart around him. “Hands—” his breath catches, “—above your head.”

“I’m literally bent over a table in front of you.”

“Could still apply to some other positions, though.” And, with that, he begins to slowly pull out and push into you, nice and gentle at first, very controlled, but, as I said, Jeff was very quickly losing control, so one can imagine the animalistic desperation that soon kicked in for not just him, but for both parties. You buck up against him feverishly, letting out whines and suppressed, breathy moans and little, desperate whispers of his name (he absolutely loves those), and he just goes at it with all his energy. Who cares if he looks like absolute shit at the party later on? That’s a lot coming from him, he’ll have you know. As long as this memory is playing in his head, he doesn’t care about his hair or his suit anymore (the suit might be a stretch). He tells you breathlessly, “You know, you look good like this. Such a pretty girl.”

There’s the praise that you love. You squeeze around him and pant, “Take a picture—” and Jeff slides a hand between your legs, rubbing at that golden spot, and you have to choose between pressing into his cock or into his hand; the indecision makes your head reel, and the continuation of your sentence is twisted high and quiet, “—it’ll la-ast long-e-er.”

“Is that an invitation, doll? ‘Cause I’m not exactly against it.”

He pounds and pounds into you, nice and firm and precise, until you’re mewling and whining for him. “Be quiet, now,” he whispers against your ear – there are people chattering outside the room, passing through the exit after the party. But you can’t exactly keep it in. You try to hold your breath, you really do, but you end up grunting out when Jeff kneads at one of your breasts. “What?—d’you want those people to hear you or something? You wanna get caught?” You whine suppressedly again. “I bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Dirty girl.”

You clench once again, so fucking close to cumming, and he asks, “Can I try something?” And you nod frantically, alongside giving him a rushed, weak verbal affirmation. “I want you to prop yourself up a little more, hands on the wall – can you do that for me?”

“Uh-huh,” you mutter, adjusting yourself, and, with your movement, Jeff groans and grips your hips tightly.

“Good girl,” he praises, kissing the place behind your ear. And he continues thrusting, and then swiftly lifts one of your legs right up into the bend of his arm, leaving you to press the side of your face into the wall, your entire body swaying with the sheer force of the rutting of his hips. You feel so full like this, and he’s reaching that heavenly spot inside of you. Your knee gently brushes against his corresponding shoulder whenever he moves into you, out of you.

“Shit,” you curses sharply when he roughens his pace. “Jeff.” His name comes out as an awfully high-pitched sigh.

He huffs, “Yup, that’s me, doll.”

“You’re such a prick.”

“You could at least wait until I’m not inside of you to insult me.”

“Tell me something nice.”

“Something nice? I dunno if I can muster it up – all the things I’m thinking aren’t exactly nice. Definitely not things I’d say to anyone’s grandma.”

“Well, then, be mean,” you chuckle, and he jerks inside of you. “I don’t care.”

“You like getting off on my voice, do you?” His voice is nice and low and gravelly, and it practically grates against your pussy in some magical way, and your whole body shudders beneath him. He keeps at that perfect pace, pressure, and you commend him for his technique, you have to say. “You ever think about me when you touch yourself?” You nod. “Such a perfect, little girl. Fucking perfect.”

And he’s got a good-ish look at your face from this angle. Your eyes are closed in ecstasy, mouth open in silent pleasure, and you’re chasing, chasing that feeling. He can’t help it. He cums. And you follow immediately after – your fists screw up uselessly against the wall, and your legs quake and quake, and you squeeze so impossibly tight around him that he lets out a choked moan at how good it feels. He continues sloppily thrusting up into you, helping you ride out your orgasm while also riding out his own. “God, you’re hot,” he mutters, smiling.

You grin back at him, and his cock twitches again – it’s instinctive, he swears. “You’re not so bad either,” you reply, eyes shimmering in the dim light. Those eyes flutter shut again when he carefully pulls out of you with a sinful, wet noise.

Shit, he thinks to himself as you slip your soaked underwear and your pretty, green dress back on.

Shit, he loves you, doesn’t he?

After he’s put his suit back on, you help to adjust his tie, and he has to try his very, very hardest not to blush. He’s pretty sure you notices anyway, but it’s the effort that counts, right? He really, really wants to kiss you, but he doesn’t know if he should. The one-night stand is over, right?

“Call me tonight?” you ask after a brief pause. Was that the correct thing to do? You and Jeff call sometimes, obviously, when he’s at the store and wants to ask if you want anything, or when you want to order a pizza for yourself but get too nervous and ask for his help—but this’ll clearly be different. Are you still friends? Of course, you know you’re still friends, sure, but is it still the same?

And his heart rate has picked up significantly. You want him to call you. You want to talk to him later. “So you can get off to my voice?” You laugh. He made you laugh. He just made you laugh. The sound is like music to his ears. “I’m not a phone sex line, you know. Not a free one, anyway. If you want my services, you’re gonna have to pay.”

You’re smiling. “What’s your price?”

“$100, give or take.” He neatly folds his pocket square back up and places it into his breast pocket. Like he said, he wants to save it for later. He’s not sure for what, but it seems important to him now. And then, what he bumbles out next is said on a whim – the words are quiet and shy. Yes, shy. Jeff Winger is shy. He’s blushing. His stomach is full of butterflies. “Can I come visit your room instead?”

“Yeah, but it’ll cost you $100, give or take.”

Jeff approaches the door, and you line up behind him. “Ready?” he asks you. And you grab a fistful of his suit jacket from behind, going up on your toes, and kiss him lightly on the corner of his mouth in response.

He doesn’t even notice that you wrinkled his suit. He just closes his eyes and turns around for another kiss.

(Spoiler alert: You don’t end up seeing each other in your hotel room because Britta gets black-out drunk and nearly starts a vodka fire on the bride’s dress, so Jeff has to take her to get her fucking stomach pumped. But he gives you a call, and you come, and you sit together by Britta’s bedside as she sleeps. You talk about weird hospital experiences you’ve had, and then you fall asleep. He lets you rest your head on his shoulder.)

[jellyaibo]

i want to hear ur thoughts abt object terror, you philosophor

so disclaimer i havent seen OT in fucking months so this insane ramble isnt gna be. the best but

object terror is one of the best worst fucking object shows ive ever seen, literally the PRIME example of some edgy kid trying to make an object show that isnt ur grandmas object show. no. this is the REAL shit and they say SLURS and theres BLOOD and GORE (yes im serious theres blood and gore and death but itsnot that bad, definitely a bit shocking if u didnt expect it to happen tho)

theres also shitty voice acting and terrible mic quality galore, EX: theres a fucking cup that had this dogshit mic for the longest fucking time and it deadass sounded like bro was talking into a washing machine ohmy god, i remember there was a clip of him going around on twitter a while ago cuz of this (i think that was my first time seeing anything from OT too so theres that)

OH and theres cactus, i barely remember anything abt him but he had this fucking emotionless voice that made me HYSTERICAL. there was a scene where someone got him pissed and he said "you take that back" with. absolutely no emotion at all and since then me and my friends keep fucking quoting that line cuz its the funniest fucking shit ever

btw that slur line i said earlier wasnt a joke, one of the characters straight up drops the R SLUR in the FIRST EPISODE (funnily enough, that character became the creators objectsona i think? ik they kinda used him as a mascot for a bit which is so fucking funny) tho i dont think they drop anymore slurs after that but dont take my word on it

anyways i gotta talk abt my favorite fucking part abt this fucking show before i get to. mint

THESE FUCKING CUNTS.

before i watched object terror i got fucking warned abt these two because there was a . homophobic scene w them or some shit and i had NO idea what it was for the longest time so i was really excited to see what object homophobia was gna be graced upon my faggotly eyes

and then theyjust. started making out randomly. LIKE OUTTA NOWHERE and there were other characters there that were gna try to attack/kill them? but then they saw them kissing and were like omg ewww boys (i think. the stuff that happens after this scene is kinda blurry tbh and im NOT gonna go back and watch the clip to see what happens ok. i REFUSE) and im sorry but thats the best fucking object show scene ever

AND LIKE? IDK? MAYBE ITS JUST ME BUT I DONT GET WHY I SAW PPL SAY THIS WAS HOMOPHOBIC???? i dunno maybe its just me but like these two just kissed while watching tv and eating chicken AND NOTHING BAD HAPPENED TO THEM!!! THEY LITERALLY WON IMMUNITY BY THE END OF THE EPISODE TOO. THEY WON. THE GAYS WON. and its so fucking funny to me bro object terror LOVES the gays

ok now i need to talk about mint im sorry i hate this fucking thing so much I NEED TO KILL HIM WITH A ROCK!!!! FFFUCK!!

hes literally just taco ii but 100x worse, i dont even like tacos evil arc or whatever cuz i always found her annoying BUT MINT IS SO MUCH WORSE

never in my. almost 2 years of watching object shows have i ever hated a character so fucking much LIKE GENUINELY THIS THING MAKES ME SO FRUSTRATED. hes just that. lol XD random character FOR THE WHOLE SERIES. just annoying and loud and does literally fucking nothing AND THE JOKES W HIM ARE SO FORCED I SWEAR THEY STOPPED . EVERYTHING THAT WAS GOING ON IN AN EPISODE JUST TO FOCUS ON THIS MOTHERFUCKER CUZ HE WAS GONNA DO SOMETHING FUNNY. im not mad that im missing out on some "juicy" object terror "lore" im just pissed that i have to see this fucking disgrace on my screen

oh and in the latest episode (as of now, the series isnt actually finished yet and i hope to god it never gets continued) SUDDENLY mint has a fucking arc THAT WAS NEVER FORESHADOWED AT ALL IN THE SERIES!! SO SUDDENLY HES A SMART GENIUS THAT COULD DO ANYTHING CUZ HE HAS MACHINES N SHIT AND A WHOLE ASS LABORATORY ??????? THEN HE FUCKING DIES

do you know how many fucking. mid and uninteresting characters we had to lose for him

DO YOU KNOW THE LOSSES I HAD TO DEAL WITH CUZ OF HIM

he lived for too fuckig long in this show dammit it pisses me off that he's even a character that exists . i blame him for being the reason why i hate joke characters (except david ily david bfdi)

i dont wanna talk abt him anymore im gonna

OK OK BUT. 1 more thing. smore

smore is this guy that they introduced later on in the series and hes a FUCKING. DEMON FROM HELL and i need him so bad actually

i think at some point he tries to . kill mint too so im literaly making out with him rn oh my god HES SO

im so mad hes in object terror IM GETTING YOU OUTTA THERE BABY ‼ ‼ 🗣🗣

honestly tho he was so cool im a little mad that they introduced him so late into the show CUZ WE ONLY SEE HIM FOR LIKE 2 EPISODES GRAHHHH RAAGHHHH babygirl

anyways thats it i feel like theres more but im not gonna wring out any more object terror knowledge from my brain i think that'll kill me

hope u enjoyed my insanity anon heres a loser . hope this heals you

[thefrostedfeather52]

incorrect bapo quotes (part 1)

there are definitely bapo incorrect quotes already out there somewhere however i have an incredible long incorrect quotes doc so here are some of the Good Ones (incorrect quotes my beloved <3)

Peter: Well, I suppose the only solution would be to tell everyone the truth. Jason: That is the stupidest idea I have ever heard in my entire life.

Peter: You can’t make everyone like you, you’re not Jason Matt: What? Not everyone likes Jason Peter: Who doesn’t? Matt: Well mayb- Peter: Names, Matt, I need names

Nadia: Oh, so now I’m supposed to be nice, make friends and treat her with mutual respect? Peter: Yeah Nadia: Wake up, Peter! That’s exactly what Ivy wants me to do Peter: That’s what everyone wants everyone to do!

Jason: It’s £2.50 per rose Matt: Who has that kind of money? Nadia: Ivy loves roses Matt: I’ll take them all

Lucas: Man, I really like Tanya. Lucas: I better show her how much she means to me. Lucas: *sends her a meme at 3am*

Ivy: *pushes a pull door* Nadia: You’re supposed to pull, not push. Ivy: Thanks, next I was gonna try lifting the door from the bottom.

Ivy: I'm thinking of doing charity work? Nadia: You should donate blood Ivy: Oh, th- Nadia: All of it.

Ivy: I searched everywhere. Nadia: What? Ivy: I looked through hundreds of files. Ivy: Searched through my messages. Ivy: I even searched my wardrobe. Ivy: But I still couldn’t find where I asked for your opinion. Nadia: …

(okay but this one is based on an actual conversation i had with my friends) Peter: Do you know how far away December is? Cause I don’t Jason (joking): 12 months Nadia: Does it look like fucking Christmas to you? Ivy (gesturing to the open door): Shhhh Nadia: Oh sorry, but seriously, does it look like Christmas to you? Peter (actually thinking): Wait, aren’t there 24 months in a year? Jason: You’re thinking of the 24 days of Christmas Nadia: It’s the 12 days of Christmas! Jason: Well my advent calendar has 24 days on it- Peter: Wait, how many days are in December? Nadia: 31! Ivy: What’s wrong with you?! Peter: It’s cause we’re gay, we can’t do math Jason: I can do math Nadia: Shhhh *gestures around* Jason: I can do math Peter (panicking): Sorry uhhh…we’re not gay, we’re uh incredibly straight ummm…we’re homophobic! Nadia: *facepalms* Jason: I can do math

Nadia: Everyone I know is on a date right now Nadia: Well, not all together, but you know what I mean Nadia: So now I’m alone Nadia: Which means... Nadia: *inhales* Nadia: ACCORDING TO ALL KNOWN LAWS OF AVIATION THERE IS NO WAY A BEE SHOULD BE ABLE TO FLY. ITS WINGS ARE TOO SMALL TO GET ITS FAT LITTLE BODY OFF THE GROUND!!! Ivy: See this is why you’re forever alone Nadia: Whatever helps you sleep at night

Lucas: If I were a millionaire, I would buy millions of melons and become a melonaire Matt: Matt: How do you have friends? Lucas: Because I’m a melonaire

Lucas: Dumbest scar stories, go! Peter: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. Ivy: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it. Nadia: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. Matt: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn. Jason: Jason: I have emotional scars.

Lucas: I mean it was all fun and games until I licked the power outlet Matt: Walk me through the process that led up to that and then I'll decide whether you need to see a therapist

Nadia: I'm a moderate, peaceful person Jason: You threw a chair at Ivy yesterday Nadia: That is moderate and peaceful compared to the table I was going to throw at her

Lucas, angrily: ARE YOU- Nadia: fucking. Lucas: -KIDDING ME?! YOU- Nadia: fucking. Lucas: IDIOT- Jason: …what was that? Nadia: Matt banned Lucas from swearing, so I volunteered to help him out Peter: I think you just like saying the f word. Nadia: That doesn’t make my job any less important.

[postmodern-blues]

first listen to rhys and ianto’s excellent barbecue: a saga

I’m just gonna put all my thoughts in order while I listen to this audio and do my homework. I’ll tag it for spoilers, but I’ll also put everything below the cut in case you haven’t listened to it yet <3 um also i do a lot of swearing be warned...

last warning, yall, lots of spoilers and quotes ahead:

Rhys’s friends call him RHYSIE and I Am So Soft For This.

“I’m making my Special Sauce” god if Jack were here....

I love how Torchwood writers can’t even find a way to write RHYS in a straight way. He’s so cute and AHSDHGHFDAS I LOVE THIS SO FAR

the meat jokes.... already.... let’s hope serentiy Ianto does not resurface

IANTO! my god I have missed my boy. HE IS BACK

Oh my god... oh my fuck.... he’s so CUTE i might need to take a breather.... dude....

Gwen looking out for Ianto, inviting him to Rhys’s stuff. DID SOMEONE SAY FOUND FAMILY HMMMM

“lads, lads, lads” I WENT FERAL WHEN I HEARD THIS IN THE TRAILER

“Jack’s sorry he couldn’t come” hhhhhhhh one sausage comes off the barbecue and he’d be like “this is quite homoerotic” HAIJFODHS

Rhys come on,,,, baby,,,,, do not be homophobic about this

I get the feeling I might be going too crazy about this,,, WE’RE ONLY FIVE MINUTES IN

godDAMNIT THIS IS THE SHIT I’VE BEEN CRAVING EVER SINCE GHOST TRAIN afdsohfs

Ianto brought Chardonnay....

“Except Banana boat, he’s a bit thick” AGFDKHDGS R H Y S

oh shit alien things are happening

“yes, RHYS, I know how to discuss my TOP SECRET work at a social event” he’s fucking ICONIC

“you have an inability to call each other by your proper names” my sister is just like this tho... she calls all her friends by anime character names.. little bit better than ‘sticky jeff’ but not much

Ianto being oblivious to Rhys’s gender role shit is just,,,, I STAN HIM

If Ianto and Rhys do not take a ride in the pink car by the end of this audio I’m suing

jkjk but that would be so great wouldn’t it

godDAMNIT i love this audio

"we.... don’t” yet again, it is the 21st century, and torchwood is sooo not ready

“It’s the BOYS’ barbecue” rhys and his friends seem like they have a very cute queerplatonic relationship. wonder if they wear socks when they’re doing “barbecues”

who the fuck is steven.... whAT IS GOING ON

“I don’t know him THAT well, but there’s no way he would call me love” u sure abt that rhysie

“if u run headfirst into an invisible wall, at least let me FILM it on my phone” these two i stfg

this ‘time bubble’ concept has SO MANY FIC POSSIBILITIES why is big finish spoiling us-

jack and gwen going for pizza instead of being at work AHHDOFDGSHK 

oh my GOD THE CALLBACK TO DISSECTED!!!!! this is like when gareth called back to The Last Beacon in Dinner and a Show AHHHH

I am reminded about martha and gwen,,, i am happy,,, the PARALLELS

these two arguing dude the TENSION.. the SUBTEXT

“god help you if you ever hear about pink wine” SFIHOJADHGF 

i swear half my commentary here is me quoting something funny and then keyboard smashing

Ianto is fucking ANNIHILATING Rhys here and by extension gender roles. Goddamnit THIS is the conversation we needed. I love him so much can you tell

“you LOVE each other” I’ve only had this audio for about half an hour but if anything fucking happens to it, i’ll kill everyone in the room and then myself

i don’t think you understand how goddamn adorable rhys is about his friends

“thank fuck none of them are here right now” mate my man badger calls you RHYSIE i don’t think it would affect them

I am so thankful Jack isn’t here because oh my g o d this would be an hour long block of innuendos. this whole audio is just exposing the very prominent homoerotic tendencies of straight men

sometimes, and by that i mean all the time, i wonder if my family hears me listening to big finish and wonders if i’m actually just watching porn. and honestly I think it would be a whole lot less embarrassing if i just told them i was watching porn instead of “yeah it’s this scifi thing these characters are trying to make a hole in an invisible time force field thing. are they gay? no, well, i mean, yes, but not like that! welllll, a little bit like that, but it’s NOT PORN”

���what the hell was that rhys? You Absolute Idiot.” AHHH THESE TWO

“let’s stuff it full of sausages” 

GWEN AND IANTO TELLING EACH OTHER STORIES ABOUT THEIR IDIOT HUSBANDS IS MY LIFEBLOOD FUCKKKKKK

“back pocket” THIS IS SENDING ME BACK TO MY SHERLOCK FANDOM DAYS (fucking remember john getting sherlock’s phone out of his coat that he was wearing? that’s what this is)

Rhys pretending to be Steven (Stephen?) is,,,,, oh my god,,, this is too fucking intense

god i feel so bad for rhys,,, seriously

ohmygodddddd

this took a serious turn I was not prepared for

also gwen wanting rhys to talk to ianto is,,, ughhhh i ship gwen/rhys sooo hard

rhys- baby- oh my godohmygodohmygod

im like,,, IM CRYING BRO THIS IS

“I DO love them” hhhhhh

the special sauce thing is sending me im sorry

“can we rescue the beer?” RHYS

‘Ianto you beautiful man, you did it!” THEY!!! THEY!!!!!!

i wanna make it clear that i don’t ship rhys and ianto but i think they are so cute as friends

guys im in tears right now

the way rhys goes from not wanting ianto here to not wanting him to leave,,, um its a simple arc but i’d also do anything for it

RHYS AND GWEN RHYS AND GWEN RHYS AND GWEN ANDHDHSGHFAOSDLSDLHD

“OH HE’S ADORABLE WHATS HE CALLED?” me when i first saw Ianto Jones onscreen

“he’s a colleague of the missus,,,,,, and a friend” why don’t you just shoot me in the head hm

rhysie,,, baby,,, holy shit you need to go to therapy,,, just like,,, have a chat with janet the weevil and see how you feel after

funny how rhys fucking williams is handling loss so much better than ANY of torchwood. like jack got PREGNANT after losing owen+tosh. Ianto started having sex with his immortal boss after losing his girlfriend. healthy coping mechanisms? who is she?

they let rhys say fuck a lot in this audio and that is Very Sexy of Them

“bunny has run away with my tie” h e s s o f u c k i n g p r e c i o u s

“lads lads lads” AHHHHHHHHH

this audio. is. so good. so cute. so sad. BIG FINISH YOU DID IT AGAIN YOU SEXY BASTARDS YOU!!!!

[statticscribbles]

Pride

Summary: Swangs (Fangs/Sweet Pea) Sweet Pea just has no luck when it comes to timing

TW: Use of homophobic slurs

There’s a lot of things Sweet Pea doesn’t give a shit about, he can list them either alphabetically or by his personal ranking of distain; the highest on his list is people being shitty to Fangs. He could lump it in as a general people being shitty to his friends but he’s seen and heard too many people brushing off the Southside into one group. The insults have changed. What once was chorus’s of

“Southside trash” “trailer park scum” “criminals”  “hoodlums” “freaks” has now evolved into “freaks” “faggot” “bitch”  “homo bastard” “degenerates” “queer”

Sweet Pea doesn’t admit to either Fangs or Toni how many times he comes over with bruised knuckles or a black eye, when he splits his lip too deep so he needs stitches. None of them are earned as recklessly as he lets them believe his temper is. He keeps his reasoning to himself, quoting the Serpent laws anytime he returns from letting his temper get the best of him like an idiot; as Toni and Fangs often yell at him. He just grins, one less person threatening them is a victory no matter how much he bleeds.

He’s the first to join the Serpents, he makes Toni wait two weeks after his ceremony, joking he doesn’t want to be upstaged. He endures her annoyed side eyes and rants about her being blood anyways. Still she waits. He feels childish asking about how the Serpents feel about LBGT members. FP looks at him like he ’s a bigger idiot than usual and introduces him to Joaquin that same night. He let’s Joaquin know he’s not his type and Joaquin makes some quip about Sweet Pea ending up with some Northside prep; he’s smiling when he says it and Sweet Pea laughs joking about he’ll find the perfect boy next door; Joaquin joins in on his jesting and they spend the night joking and laughing about imaginary Northsider’s.

It isn’t until later, when Toni and Fangs appear to bring him home that Joaquin’s eyes light up in understanding. Fang’s doesn’t get it, not when Sweet Pea pretends to be a little too drunk to lean on him, or how Joaquin gives FP a nod and sly smile. Toni is the one to cold shower him. Fangs sets him in the tub, Toni hisses how gentle he is and Fangs leaves, he always hated dousing Sweet Pea with the showers cold spray.

He’s relieved when there’s a knock at the door, Joaquin standing, sly smile on his face once more. “Glad he had the guts.” Is all he says, passing Fangs Sweet Pea’s jacket. “Wait there’s-” “Topaz’s” Fangs nods, and pushes the smaller jacket into her hands, she swears him to secrecy about her dancing around the living room.

They wake up on the couch, Sweet Pea setting mugs of coffee on the table. He cracks his neck and Toni smirks. “Fell asleep in the tub again, how the fuck do I keep ending up there?” He rolls his eyes as she shrugs. “It’s a mystery.” She flashes her jacket and Sweet Pea takes a sip of his coffee. “You pick out where you want your tat?” She beams nodding.

“You know he wants to join, he might as well already be a member anyways.”  Toni speaks turning from behind the bar to nod at where Fangs plays pool with Joaquin.

“You know being a Serpent is dangerous. Especially being like we are. Anyone finds out it’s twice the reason to kill us, can’t have you being a gang member and a homo.” Sweet Pea glares at the ground, Toni places her hand on his shoulder.

“Isn’t it more dangerous to not be a Serpent then? To not have our protection.” Sweet Pea shakes his head. “He has me.” “And you have us, and him. Everyone knows Sweet Pea. Except him, you need to tell him at some point.” Sweet Pea nods. He stands bolstering himself to go over to play pool with them, to confess his feelings to Fangs, but Joaquin seems to pick up on it and vanishes too early; Fangs returns back to the bar whining to Toni about there not being any cute guys that are available. Sweet Pea knows the look Toni gives Fangs and him is meant to be a ‘you’re both idiots’ Fangs reads it as ‘can you believe this again’ and huffs retreating to where the other serpent’s are starting up darts. “Tomorrow.” He asks Toni to be there for support claiming he wants to hang out with Fangs and her like the old days.

Toni excuses herself to go home, something about her grandfather needing help; Sweet Pea steels himself, broaching the subject nervously. “Fangs, this is gonna sound really stupid but, how did you know you liked guys?” “It was more like I knew I didn’t like girls, why? Sweet Pea do you-“ He’s never seen Fangs look so hopeful. “Oh uh, I like girls, uh both, both actually.” He stumbles over the words as the hope flickers in Fang’s eyes. “Oh, good for you.” Fang’s smiles and turns to the text on his phone. “You, actually I like-“ He whispers “Hey sorry my mom needs me to call her.” Fangs looks apologetically at Sweet Pea who just nods dumbly.

Sweet Pea’s not sure if he can breathe anymore, not with the way Fangs looks numbly at the wall, or when he lets the phone and himself crumble to the ground as he shakes, choking instead of breathing. Sweet Pea tugs him onto his lap without thinking and pulls the phone up at the same time. “Mrs. Fogarty, is everything okay?” “Of course Sweet Pea, everything is fine dear.” Fang’s make a sort of gagging sound that he realizes is meant to be a no. “Tell Fangs I’ll see him tomorrow.” “Of course M-Mrs. Fogarty.” Sweet Pea hangs up and runs his hand through Fang’s hair.

“What happened? What’s wrong Fangs? What’s wrong?” He tries to keep his voice calm but all Fang’s does is keep hissing and mumbling and not speaking and Sweet Pea can feel the panic rising in his chest just the same when he hears people muttering about how much better he could do than being friends with the likes of Fangs; of course there’s nothing to punch, nothing to take the anger, the fear out on, so he sits, hands fluttering against any part of Fang’s that doesn’t make him pull away. They sit for an hour, until his legs are numb from the weight of them both, and his shirt has a wet spot on each of his shoulders.

They sit in half silence; half in reality until Fangs is almost asleep, just numb staring at the doorway. Sweet Pea doesn’t say anything as Fang’s shifts in his arms, hands twisting into his shirt. “ ‘s cancer. Doc’s already said it’s a loosing fight; I can’t. I can’t Sweets; it’ll-“ Fangs doesn’t finish his body jerking as his breathing goes once more. “Fangs, hey; I’m here. I’m here.” “I shouldn’t be, I shouldn’t be- why can’t it be me Sweet’s; why it gotta be my mom.” Sweet Pea doesn’t say anything, just tightening his grip. “Can’t afford none of it, said it wouldn’t help anyways, just pain management, can’t even give her a chance.” He hisses the last bit jerking away from Sweet Pea.

“Fangs, hey listen-“ “Sorry;” He wipes at his eyes and nose. “You were sayin’ something important.” “Yeah, I uh, well fuck it doesn’t seem as important now.” He laughs a little.

“Come on, Joaquin said you got your eye on someone, you ask ‘em out yet? Is that it? You finally not single for once?” Fangs laughs a little but his throat is too raw to do more than sob awkwardly. “No I haven’t asked him out yet.” “You gonna, come on, don’t chicken out. First real boyfriend as a possibility” “Well it’s complicated.” Fangs rolls his eyes. “Can’t be that complicated, you just walk up ask him out and kiss him if he says yes.” “So you wanna go out?” Sweet Pea sighs shakily.

“Yeah like that. What?” Fangs furrows his brow. “Well I’m waiting for him to say yes, so I can kiss him.” “Oh, um the Wyrm at seven?” “Is that a yes?” Fangs nods laughing as Sweet Pea bumps their foreheads together kissing him softly.

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[ummadum]

Why José Mourinho is problematic

I’m not a fan of José Mourinho and whilst I can come around to his tactics, I really doubt I will ever like him as a person.

Football is a very misogynistic, homophobic, racist and generally disrespectful place where people, especially powerful people, are not held accountable for their actions and words. This post is an accumulation of some of the very worrying things Jose has said and done over the years, that he has never acknowledged nor apologised for. I think that it’s important to keep these things in mind especially now, because the “José is a great person” idea is on the rise again. Whilst someone like Sergè, who also said some really disrespectful things, but someone who apologised for them and was willing to learn from his mistake, has his mistakes constantly brought up again, we are ignoring and burying all the things that are really wrong with our manager. 

And if the club have asked Sergé to acknowledge and apologise for his statements (the right move), then we should do the same with Mourinho, who was much older when he said those things and had and has a lot more power and reach. 

Homophobic

In 2012, as Real Madrid manager, Mourinho was caught on camera using “marocones” (which means faggot in English) to refer to the referees pre champion league match agains CSKA Moscow. 

This is a link to the video [x]  it’s about 20 seconds in.

The European Gay and Lesbian Sports Federation (EGLSF) released a statement [x] calling for action, which includes this:

Louise Englefield, Co-president of the EGLSF, an organisation representing over 17,000 lesbian gay bisexual and trans (LGBT) athletes across Europe, said: “Homophobia is unacceptable from anyone in football, much less from one of the game’s most senior figures. We are deeply disappointed that Mr Mourinho is casually using homophobic terms of abuse in his workplace. It is especially sad that these comments have been made during the International Football v Homophobia campaign week. This is a time during which the European football community should be joining forces to tackle discrimination and prejudice against lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people . As long-standing partners of the FARE network, we call on UEFA to take action and impose appropriate sanctions.”

And yet nothing ever happened, no apology, no acknowledgment and no sanctions.

Racist

Josés stance on racism is an interesting one, because he has publicly stated that he is opposed to direct racism, yet does apparently not believe that there is an underlying structural racism problem in the world and in football.

About coaching opportiunities for black coaches

In 2014, when questioned whether football needs a Rooney rule, which in the NFL ensures that ethnic minority candidates are adequately represented in the interview process for head coaching positions, he said this: 

When asked if he felt football was doing enough to bring in black managers and whether he felt a quota should be introduced, Mourinho said: “There is no racism in football. If you are good, you are good. If you are good, you get the job.” “If you are good, you prove that you deserve the job. Football is not stupid to close the doors to top people. If you are top, you are top.” [x]

At the moment of publication of this article, only two of 92 clubs in the top four divisions in English football had a black manager. And only four black managers have ever worked in the premier league. 

His statement warranted this lengthy response from the then FIFA Vice-President Jeffrey Webb. [x] Who points to a much larger problem of lack of enthnic people in power in football in general.

About Hair

“I want to push the young players on my team to have a proper haircut, not the Rastafarian or the others they have.”

I don't have the exact source but it’s mentioned in multiple “best of José quotes articles [x]  [x]

Misogyny

Dr. Carniero

The most obvious place to start talking about Mourinho and his issues with misogyny is his treatment of Dr. Eva Carneiro who was the Chelsea first team doctor from 2009 until september 2015. During the first Game of the 15/16 season against Swansea Dr. Carneiro and chief physiotherapist Jon Fearn were called into the pitch by the referee to attend to Eden Hazard who had gone down. It was towards the end of the match and Chelsea had already had Courtois sent off and were therefore down to 9 men. Under the laws of the game, the medical staff is only allowed on the pitch if the referee summons them and once they have been summoned it's their duty to attend to the player. Mourinho took an issue with both of them rushing onto the field, because it left his team temporarily with 8 outfield players and so he allegedly called Dr. Carniero “filha da puta” which translates to “daughter of a bitch/whore”. He says he didn’t use the female version, but that he said “filho da puta”  and that “swearing is a part of football”. This then led to a lot of discourse about whether it was actually abusive language towards a woman or not. 

The more damning thing happened later in the press conference. 

“I wasn't happy with my medical staff because even if you are a medical doctor or secretary on the bench, you have to understand the game.If you go to the pitch to assist a player, then you must be sure that a player has a serious problem. I was sure that Eden didn't have a serious problem. He had a knock and was very tired.My medical department left me with eight fit outfield players in a counter attack after a set piece and we were worried we didn't have enough players left.”

“You have to understand the game”, especially when aimed at a woman already comes with enough negative and misogynistic connotations. And there was no lack of “understanding of the game” in this instance, it was their duty to attend to the player according to the rules. Maybe he should have had a word with Eden Hazard about not feigning injuries instead.

But this is not where this ends. Following this incidence, Fearn (a Man) was removed from first team matches and Dr. Carniero was removed from all first team duties such as training sessions, matches and even entering the team hotel. And as Duncan Castles, one of Josés mouthpieces in the british press then reported: 

Mourinho is said to have held reservations about Carneiro’s role within the first-team squad since at least last year. While there is no question about her professional abilities, the Portuguese coach was concerned that the dressing room dynamic was affected by the presence of a female. According to a source, some players had expressed misgivings to the coaching staff about the set-up, arguing that it forced them to alter their usual behavior in a team environment.  [x]

The same women that had worked with Chelsea's first team for 6 years and under 4 different managers just suddenly became a problem with Josés arrival. Maybe there were some players that complained about her, but José should have told them to get over it. Sadly, I can’t link you to the original source of these quotes because the website does not exist anymore but here are some more articles referring to the same quotes. [x] [x]

Her dismissal went to court and she and Chelsea ended up settling the case. 

This whole thing ties into the larger issue of misogyny in football, this is an interesting article about how 2/3 s of the women in football face sexist discrimination. [x]

Montse Benitez

Rafael Benitez’ wife Montse Benitez made a joke, in 2015, about Rafa cleaning up Josés messes because Rafa just got the Real Madrid Job and she said “we tidy up his messes”, but afterwards added that it was understandable because there are only so many top clubs out there. 

The first part of his response is very much ok:

“The lady is a bit confused, with all respect. The only club where her husband [directly] replaced me was at Inter Milan, where in six months he destroyed the best team in Europe at the time.”

The second part however wasn’t:

“And for her to think about me and to speak about me, I think she needs to occupy her time — and if she takes care of her husband’s diet, she will have less time to speak about me.”

He told her to get back into the kitchen and that is such a backwards thing to say to women.  [x]

Generally Women 

In 2013, whilst complaining about Arsenal players complaining to the officials he said

“ you know they like to cry” and then added “Football is for men, or for women with fantastic attitude.”

José mourinho used being a woman as an insult to emasculate Arsenal players. Which is incredibly sexist. 

His post match tirade also includes some lovely xenophobia for good measure, which is a bit hypocritical coming from José. (I want to remind all Spurs fans that there was massive outrage after the United match, when similar criticism was aimed at Lamela)

"You know, they like to cry," Mourinho said. "That's tradition. But I prefer to say, and I was telling it to the fourth official, that English people – Frank Lampard, for example – would never provoke a situation like that. "Players from other countries, especially some countries, have that in their blood. So, if there is contact or an opponent is aggressive, they don't keep going. But this is English football. Foreign players are bringing lots of good things. They come here because they are talented. But I prefer English blood in football. English blood in this situation is: 'Come on, let's go.' Mikel's tackle is hard and aggressive but football is for men or for women with fantastic attitude. It's true."

[x]

Generally problematic things he has said

Him calling Wenger a voyeur is not included but he did end up actually apologising for that. 

2006: "Sometimes you see beautiful people with no brains. Sometimes you have ugly people who are intelligent, like scientists," [x]

Me being a scientist probably makes me even more annoyed with this statement, but honestly can we get rid of this stupid idea.

 2005: “Ricardo Carvalho seems to have problems understanding things, maybe he should have an IQ test, or go to a mental hospital or something.” [x] 

Statements against him that he took to court

A journalist for spanish newspaper Marca wrote about José during his time at chelsea:

“the type of person who would flee after knocking someone down"

A letter from Mourinho's lawyers then read:

"In our eyes this phrase is... degrading and was used in a manner which was completely unnecessary in the critique."

Chelsea also took action against a former Barcelona director after he posted the following on twitter during a match against Manchester City.

"It's lamentable the psychopath celebrating goals as if he was a player." 

[x]

Which is utterly ironic when taking all the things he has said about others into account.

A lot of these quotes are older, but judging from his recent choice of words, the constant emasculation of his players also shown in a documentary meant to make him look good, he might not be saying these things publicly anymore but the subtext and undertones still remain, therefore not really making it look like he has learned from his past mistakes and has become a better person in the slightest. Also, these quotes are just the tip of the iceberg of what kind of a human being José Mourinho really is. He is an incredibly manipulative individual that chooses all of his words, especially those to the press, really carefully and if these quotes are things that he chose to say deliberately, then I’m worried about what other opinions he has that he does not voice to the public. But if someone treats him like he does others he has an issue with it.

He can be an interesting individual to watch and his amount of arrogance can be fairly entertaining, but his general lack of respect for his players and staff shouldn't be overlooked especially in a world which is trying to move towards the future. And a footballing world at least saying that they are trying to remove discrimination from the game. 

I don’t want him to be sacked, but I would really like to remind people of the kind of person he is and for him to acknowledge these statements and apologise for it. But because this is football and Agueros actions with the lines-woman were dismissed because he is “a good person” I doubt that that will ever happen. 

[starlocked01]

These Words are Knives

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: Virgil doesn't like being a secret boyfriend. He honestly just wants his soulmate to be able to be himself at home and at work. But has Janus ever been himself with anyone? Remus probably. But Virgil and Remus don't know about each other and that's about to become everyone's problem 

Content Warning: Unsympathetic Janus, Swearing, Fighting, Capslock, Emotional Abuse and Manipulation

Day 28 Anxceitmus- A sentence appears on your arm each night recapping something your soulmate said that day. Modified so that it only shows up after you've met them in person.

"If you love me, let me go If you love me, let me go These words are knives that often leave scars The fear, the fear of falling apart Truth be told I never was yours The fear, the fear of falling apart" -This is Gospel Panic! at the Disco

"Oh yes, my girlfriend and I enjoy true crime shows pretty often."

Virgil sighed, staring at the golden letters glowing on his skin. It stung a lot to see his soulmate lie like this every night.

He turned over in bed to face Janus, "I hate your boss."

"Mmhmm, me too," Janus replied flatly, not taking his eyes off the newspaper.

"I shouldn't have to see this. You shouldn't have to keep me hidden from your coworkers," Virgil felt anger knotting at the bottom of his stomach. It truly wasn't fair.

"If he finds out I'm gay, he will fire me. I'm not having this discussion right now," Janus declared with a tone of finality.

"I'm not asking you to out yourself, I'm just upset about the situation," Virgil twisted onto his back and stared at the ceiling, "what does yours say?"

Janus gave an exasperated sigh and made a show of rolling up his sleeve before reading the shiny purple text, "'Oh my god, that would definitely have killed me!' Honestly, Virgil, it was a mouse. Bit of an overreaction."

"Whatever, good night."

"Virgil?"

"What?"

"I love you."

"Love you too."

Well, it wasn't a lie, Virgil is far too trusting of him for him to not mean it when he says he loves him.

Janus could remember back when they'd first met, Virgil wouldn't even give him his phone number. It had been a tedious process getting the anxious man to open up, and it was more than worth it to Janus. The problems only started when he'd met her.

Remus had been completely unexpected; Janus had literally run into her on his way to work. He panicked that first night the neon green script appeared on his arm opposite the purple text. Remus was also his soulmate and unlike Virgil, she was eager to know Janus.

Janus had made his decision to keep his second soulmate a secret the moment he saw the text, and now he sat like a spider atop his web of lies.

Janus glanced over at Virgil as he lay there, clearly not asleep yet, and started humming a lullaby that usually helped Virgil relax. The tension in his shoulders started to ease and soon he was snoring. Janus folded up the newspaper and took the disposable phone out of his nightstand.

R<3: heyyyy sexy i wanna c u tomrw ;]

He smiled and responded, keeping an eye on Virgil to make sure he was still asleep.

J: I agree, at our usual place?

R<3: !!!!!!

He quickly shut off the phone and hid it again before turning off the bedside lamp and rolling over to fall asleep. ---- Truth be told, it was simply easier to talk about Remus at work because they went by multiple pronouns. It also helped that they didn't immediately get suspicious anytime Janus brought them up. Virgil’s concern could be overbearing and it was just easier to stay under the radar of homophobic coworkers who would no longer respect him if they found out.

He didn't feel good about lying; it was survival. But he was good at it.

"Jan!" Remus waved him over as soon as he arrived at the restaurant. He smiled and joined them at their table, "it's been too long, why are you avoiding me?" Remus asked with a grin.

"I'm not, I just don't want to interrupt your work," Janus smirked, taking a sip of his water.

"What? You don't think I could handle you trying to distract me?" Remus laughed happily, leaning over to kiss their soulmate’s cheek.

They laughed and joked all through dinner, gossiping about coworkers, generally having a good time. The time got away from Janus and it was midnight before he realized how late it had gotten.

"Oh! I want to see what your soul mark says today!" Remus beamed, excitedly rolling up their own sleeve.

"You do tend to have quite… entertaining quotes," Janus' smile hid his irritation but he obliged, rolling up his sleeve as well, "'Why don't we eat the babies and call it Swifting?' Really, Remus? Do I want context?"

"You remember 'A Modest Proposal' by Jonathan Swift, right?" he giggled, reading his own quote of the day, "'Honestly, Virgil, it was a mouse.' Huh…" Remus looked confused, "who's Virgil? You don't talk about him but I see his name come up pretty often."

"A coworker. He's not very pleasant to talk with but we often have projects together," the lie was smooth as silk. He knew this one would happen someday and had prepared.

Remus glanced over and saw a streak of purple along Janus’ wrist of his other arm, "what's that?" they grabbed Janus' wrist and pushed the sleeve up before he could protest. They read the words out loud, "'sup, fellow cryptids? I'm your host, Virgil Keir and it's time to talk about why you absolutely should run to the woods to date the Fae.' Wait…" Remus looked up knowingly, "Virgil is your soulmate, not your coworker."

"He can be both. Like I said, he's not easy to get along with-" Janus was sweating under his collar.

"I want to meet him!" Remus exclaimed.

"Why?' Janus was genuinely puzzled by their reaction.

"Hello! I love his youtube channel and you're my easy in! Plus he's your soulmate so he's gotta be important to you, which makes him all the more important to me," Remus grinned happily, "I swear I'm not jealous that you have two soulmates."

Janus let the comment slide past him, "I'll talk with him, but he's rather private. He may not want to meet you. I mean, he hasn't asked about you at all."

"Alright alright. Thanks, Jan!" Remus kissed him again, "wanna stay the night?" they asked with a wink.

"Not tonight, we both have work tomorrow and it's late enough already," Janus gave them a silvery smile while standing to pay the bill.

"Aw man, I can't wait to tell Stormy about this!" Remus pulled out their phone and was already texting with fire in their eyes.

"Who’s Stormy?" Janus asked hesitantly.

"Tumblr mutual. He's like the biggest fan of 'Mothman Mondays'. He'll be so stoked!"

"Ah- well have fun with that. Goodnight, darling," Janus left quickly. This needed to be contained. ---- Virgil stared at his phone in disbelief.

thotiestthoughts: stormy ull nvr guess!!

thotiestthoughts: my soulmate knows Virgil K!!!

Thoti was probably Virgil’s favorite fan, they messaged on tumblr all the time and had become quite good friends, but it was through his anonymous account not the official blog for his show. He debated how he would respond before typing back.

stormcloud07734: wow what a coincidence. r u secretly him? ;)

The best defense is a strong offense, right?

thotiestthoughts: !!!! im so excite!!!!!!

stormcloud07734: that means u must live pretty close to him

thotiestthoughts: u think hes in Orlando???

Virgil smiled. He knew he was in Orlando. But he had a better idea.

stormcloud07734: don't know about Virgil but im in Orlando. wanna meet up?

His heart was pounding. If this were anyone else but thoti he'd never consider it.

thotiestthoughts: OMG WHEN? RN?

stormcloud07734: how about tomorrow?

Virgil smiled at thoti's enthusiasm. They both picked a local cafe to meet in the afternoon and signed off for the night. Virgil didn’t even wait for Janus to get home before falling asleep. ---- Virgil got to the cafe an hour early. He could barely feel his own breathing as his heart felt like it filled his whole chest and stomach. What if he was wrong and thoti turned out to be a creep or stalker? What if he was never heard from again? He hadn't even said goodbye to Janus that morning. He tried to scroll tumblr to calm down, tried to research for his next episode, anything to distract himself from the anticipation and anxiety.

Remus couldn't wait to meet stormy and was practically bouncing around the back seat of xyr Uber. He'd given xem his phone number since they'd never shared photos and xe was trying desperately to not call before xe got to the cafe.

About a block away xyr phone started ringing. It was stormy.

"Hello?" Xe answered breathlessly.

An all too familiar voice answered xem, "hey, thoti, I know you're not here just yet but I have a bit of a confession to make."

"Virgil…" Remus was practically shoved out of the car by the driver as xe was paralyzed in shock. Xe looked up and saw the familiar pale face, purple hair with swooping bangs and dark eyeshadow smiling at him from a table in the corner, phone held to his face.

"Yup, sorry," Virgil hung up as Remus walked over, mouth agape.

"All this time?" xe asked, not ready to sit at the table with one of xyr favorite minor celebrities.

"Yeah, I kinda like participating in cryptid culture without being hounded about my videos," Virgil shrugged with a grin, "come on, sit down. I'm a lot more like stormcloud than I am like my videos."

"I'm Remus," xe stuck out xyr hand.

"Virgil," he snickered and pinched Remus' fingers with three of his own and gave a curt little shake. Xe laughed and sat down across the table, fidgeting with xyr hoodie strings. Virgil gave xem a long look over, "so your soulmate knows me?"

"Oh yeah, I kinda found out last night and asked him to ask you to meet me so if he brings that up, sorry. I just got really excited about it," Remus blushed in embarrassment, "hopefully Janus will be cool about it."

Virgil stopped mid-sip of a mocha latte, "Janus?"

"Yeah, our soulmate."

"You're his soulmate too? I don't believe you," Virgil shook his head.

"I saw both lines of writing on his arms last night, I'm sure of it!" Remus' grin began to falter, "but whatever, right? We're not here to talk about soulmates. I've been so excited to meet you."

"Hang on, how long?" Virgil demanded.

"How long what? My d-"

"How long have you been soulmates?" Virgil smacked the table.

"About 5 months," Remus looked down at the table. This was going terribly.

"Janus has been my soulmate for 2 years and he never brought up a second soulmate. I can't-" Virgil looked like something inside him was dying, "why wouldn't he mention you?"

"He- oh my god he doesn't want me around… and you probably hate me just for existing…" Remus looked up as Virgil laid a hand gently on xyrs.

"No. I don't hate you. We're going to get to the bottom of this." ---- Virgil sat in bed next to Janus who was preoccupied with a book. He didn't know how to bring up Remus and every moment he felt sicker and sicker in his stomach. The frequent fights, the talk at work about a girlfriend, the distance between them, when he thought about it he realized it had only really started 5 months ago.

Janus reached out to take his hand and Virgil instinctively pulled away.

"What's wrong, Virgil?" Janus asked sweetly.

"Don't touch me," he muttered just as the clock struck midnight. He glanced at the yellow text without bothering to read it, "I bet this one is a lie too."

"Virgil, what do you mean? You're acting suspicious," Janus’ mind was reeling. He'd forgotten what Virgil had said he was going to do that day and didn't expect him to be so hostile. He glanced down at the purple text on his arm and asked, "who's 'thoti', Virgil?"

Virgil started to reply when he saw a flash of green on his own arm. He looked and was surprised to find a second soul mark in a dark green scrawl. His phone was ringing and he didn't even need caller ID to know who it was, "are you seeing this too, Rem?" Virgil's eyes flicked over to Janus and narrowed, "a second soulmate, who could have guessed?" Janus kept his face impressively passive at the news and subtle accusation, "okay, see you soon."

Virgil hung up and glared at Janus who simply repeated, "who's 'thoti', Virgil?"

"You insufferable bastard! You know exactly who xe is, your 'girlfriend' our soulmate," Virgil scowled, ready to tear out a throat and leave the body for the wolves. He saw that Remus had texted him that xe was 10 minutes away. Janus had nowhere to run now.

"Her name is Remus. Why would I assume she was your soulmate or that you would give her such a disrespectful nickname?" Janus tried to steer the conversation in his favor.

"You're going to accuse me of disrespect? For the last five months, you have done nothing but lie to us and you're saying I'm the disrespectful one? You can't deflect your way out of this one, babe," Virgil felt his eye twitch. Remus better get there fast if he wanted both soulmates intact.

Virgil was screaming and beating Janus with a pillow when the doorbell rang.

"What the fuck? Is this a confrontation or a sleepover?" Remus burst in the door, finding it unlocked. He ran over and pulled Virgil off of Janus, getting a face full of feathers in the process.

"Oh just casual domestic abuse," Janus picked himself off the floor as Virgil struggled to get out of Remus' grasp.

"I'm going to make him pay, one way or another!" Virgil snarled.

"I don't know, Virgil, I think we can work this out," he blurted out.

Virgil stared at Remus dumbfounded, "you think what? Work this out? He's lied to you the whole time you've known him!"

"So did you," Remus looked down as if ashamed to say it out loud, "I thought you were stormcloud. I gushed about Virgil to you for hours and you never thought to tell me who you really were. I bet you even got content ideas from me and never had to credit them. So how is that different, if not worse, than Janus being scared of you doing exactly what you're doing right now?"

"You really think having an anonymous tumblr is worse than being manipulated for years? Is that what I'm hearing, Remus?"

"I think you're overreacting. I want to try and fix this relationship because we're soulmates and we should be able to make it work," Remus sighed, turning away from Virgil, "I'm not cutting anyone off."

"It's alright, Virgil. I forgive you. Let's figure this out together-"

"NO!" something snapped. Virgil squared up, facing the other two, "get out."

"Virgil," Janus took a step towards him.

"I said, Get Out."

"Oh, did you forget? The lease is in my name. I'm not leaving my fucking apartment. If you don't want to work with us then you can work on getting your own place to live," Janus’ look turned smug and cold as ice.

"Janus, don't kick him out," Remus looked as though he were about to spiral into a panic attack. If he'd just kept his mouth shut for once maybe-

"No, he's right. He holds shelter and food over my head to keep me in line so he can keep a secret fuck boy on the side and expects me to 'work it out' like I'm too scared to fend for myself. Fuck you," Virgil started to laugh with tears streaming down his cheeks. He turned and grabbed his backpack, walking to their room to grab as much of his stuff as he could. Remus followed him, holding Janus back from saying anything more.

"Virgil, please. I don't want to lose you," Remus pleaded softly.

"I thought you were pissed at me for being a liar on the internet," Virgil muttered.

"Maybe, but if I'm willing to forgive Janus don't you think I can forgive you too?" Remus held up his arm to block the door.

Virgil stopped with a heavy exhausted sigh, "I don't want your forgiveness. Remus, if you love me, let me go."

Virgil watched as a tear slipped down Remus' face and he lowered his arm. The rage that fueled him broke and he grabbed Remus in a hug. The other stiffened, uncertain, before relaxing and hugging Virgil back.

"I didn't want to leave you; I just can't stay with him," Virgil fought to keep his voice from trembling as much as his shoulders were shaking.

"I'll see if my landlord can add you on my lease… that way you don't have to leave?" Remus offered hopefully.

"That sounds like a thousand more nights spent screaming. Not a good idea," Virgil broke away from the hug, "thank you, Remus."

"You… you know how to find me if you need me," Remus laughed sullenly.

"Thanks. I'm sorry."

Remus only nodded as Virgil made for the front door.

"If you leave right now, you'll never see him again," Janus spoke from his place on the couch, wine glass in hand, and already half-empty in the short time Virgil spent packing.

"I know. Anything to keep me from fighting you, right? Just watch me find a way to be happy, asshole," Virgil spat before walking out without a second glance back. ---- "Virgil?"

"What?"

"I love you."

"No, you don't!" Virgil hissed, pushing himself away as hard as he could.

"Virgil, I know I'm not your soulmate but I am confident about my feelings for you," Logan looked confused and hurt but all Virgil could see was a cold, sly smile he'd tried so hard to forget. Reality started to blur and Virgil began to hyperventilate while the smirk leered closer, "Virgil, it's me, Logan. In for four."

Virgil focused on the calming voice and followed its instructions. After a few minutes, he could see Logan’s living room, feel the blanket tangled around their feet, the soft touch of his best friend pulling him back from the edge.

"Logan, I- I'm-"

"Don't apologize. There's nothing to apologize for," Logan held him close, resting his chin in Virgil’s hair, "you were clearly triggered. I did not mean to hurt you and your lashing out wasn't directed at me."

"But I know you aren't him, it's not fair for me to treat you that way," Virgil shuddered, pushing in to be as close to Logan as possible.

"Perhaps not, but I'm choosing to forgive it because I know this isn't easy for you," Logan smiled rubbing small circles on his back, "I will learn one thousand different ways to show you my appreciation and care if those three little words are ineffective and harmful to you."

"I don't deserve you," Virgil's voice was muffled as he buried his face in Logan’s chest to hide the tears threatening to spill over.

"No, you deserve so much more than I can give you, and you didn't deserve what happened in the past," Logan kissed the top of his head sweetly.

Virgil choked back a sob, "don't your soulmates hate me?"

Logan sighed, "no. They are happy together and I am happy for them. It has been a while since I've talked to either Patton or Roman, but I think they're okay with me finding you. Not every breakup is toxic, nor are all soulbonds romantic."

They stayed curled together like that on the couch for quite a while, the movie they'd been watching left forgotten on pause.

"Are you happy, Logan?" Virgil whispered, breaking the easy silence.

"With you, yes."

"Promise?"

"I promise I won't lie to you. I am happy with you, Stormcloud," Logan squeezed him tighter, trying to impart every ounce of his love with the application of force. He never wanted to be the one hurting Virgil, and if he ever met Janus or Remus, there was a baseball bat with their names on it in the corner.

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

[monkberries]

Not the anon who asked whether you hated Paul, but answering anyway. I don't think you hate or dislike him. I do think you're quick to think the worst of him in a way that you might not with the others. I'm absolutely *not* suggesting you should try to excuse or justify shitty things he says or does. But you don't seem interested in understanding him and you do seem to believe that in any interpersonal conflict, he's the one mainly at fault. I don't think the Beatles even truly believed that.

gonna need you to cite some examples because this is absolute nonsense. i went through the past month of my blog and here’s what i found.

i called paul out for saying something homophobic, and then softened on it when i thought about the context in which it was said. i’m entitled to be angry about homophobia as a gay person, and i revised my stance after the initial reaction passed. that’s a perfectly normal thing to do and i’ve done the same with things that john has said.

the last time i talked about paul and interpersonal conflict, it was in discussing those gifs where he was with george during the hey jude sessions. all i said was that he looked insistent and like he was arguing something that george maybe didn’t want to hear. that confers zero fault for either party.

before that i made a joke about paul being triggered when women swear around him. a joke.

before that i answered an ask saying that i wished paul would learn to communicate better, something that he has admitted to having trouble with. again, no fault conveyed.

before that i talked about why george resented paul and not john. again, no fault was put on paul in that response.

before that i agreed with an anon in saying that george and paul were like brothers and could fight with each other in ways that perhaps friends couldn’t because as (pseudo)siblings they knew that foundation was still there. again, no fault.

before that i called him an extrovert and probably exhausting to be around for someone like george. AGAIN no fault.

before that was the norther songs shares posts, in which i was very sympathetic toward paul’s position and angry at how he’s been treated for this. in fact my exact quote was “I hate that Peter Brown makes it seem like Paul was buying up a bunch of extra shares, on purpose, as a secret, to undermine John’s bargaining power, when, because it was actually such a small amount, easily seems like the move of someone unsure of the band’s future and wary around his unpredictable drug-addicted friend who doesn’t seem to trust him anymore anyway.” i examined paul’s perspective in depth and concluded that it looks like a dumb move in retrospect but it was probably perfectly reasonable at the time.

before that i called him out for a song title with a slur in it that he knew was offensive. and like. sorry, he WAS wrong to do that. i’m glad he apologized and learned from it and didn’t do it again, but still, he’s not immune to criticism. if we’d been talking about john and yoko’s song woman is the n***** of the world i would have said the exact same thing, but we weren’t.

before that was the discussion of the renegotiation of contracts in the mid 70s which i literally said i was withholding any judgment about until i actually read that part of YNGMYM.

[bibybuck]

i wanna fuck dan so bad like yeah he's gay but he's just so perfect sometimes i think dnp 'came out' but they're not strictly gay they just did that for publicity and to shut the phannies up dan actually likes vagina still but only when they bring someone into their home for a three or foursome (keys in the bowl) they're actually swingers

I… I don’t even know what to say to this, I sincerely hope that this is a joke and you’re just having a laugh. I really hope that after 4 months you’re just taking the piss.

In case you’re not, here it goes.

This so called ‘publicity’ you’re saying… BIG was Dan’s first video in a year. There is no DAPG since last Christmas. Phil’s videos were carefully shot and edited. No live shows, again, since last Christmas. If you think about it, there’s no reason for ‘publicity’ because they’re not trying to sell their videos and books or tour tickets BECAUSE there’s nothing to sell. They’re already famous and rich as is. 

Anon, you never had to come out yourself, have you? You don’t know how traumatising, how stressful it can be. You don’t just have to say the words ‘I’m gay’. First of all, you have to believe in yourself and know that this is you. It’s not always easy, it’s one of the hardest thing a person can do. I just read this quote by Jake Borelli earlier this morning: “A lot of people get hung up on the trials and tribulations of coming out to other people. The thing to remember is that you’ve already done the hardest part: you’ve come out to yourself. You should be applauded for that. 

Now onto the ‘shut the phannies up’ part. We didn’t ask for this. We didn’t ask them to come out, to post the videos, to constantly remind us that yep, they’re gay. Sure, we might’ve joked, hoped and theorised, but they were just that. They were said in a fannish space and honestly, if they saw that that wasn’t on us. 

As for Dan liking vagina. We don’t know him. We can’t possibly know him. We just know that parts he decides to show us through videos, through tweets and through social media. He likes vagina still? Cool. He doesn’t? Cool. He doesn’t owe us anything.

The funniest part of this ask is the swinger part. I swear to God, this is a joke. Have you seen Dan? One of the things we definitely know about him is the fact that he’s jealous. He’s absolutely jealous and possessive of Phil, no one can even look at his man, let alone publicly show his thirst. Sure, we do see bits of it, but it’s just a joke. Once things get real, then you see Dan’s jealous side. So no, they’re not swingers, they don’t do threesomes.

They’re in a long term, monogamous, utterly loving relationship and if you fail to accept that, then I’m sorry, you can’t call yourself a fan. If you can’t accept that two men can have a long lasting, happy relationship, then I’m sorry to tell you but maybe have a look at yourself and your own life and think about the fact that maybe you’re a bit homophobic. What you need is a reality check, not sending anons to fans who fully support Dan and Phil, their relationship and their coming out.