#Hey Hold on this isn’t a real dollar

[laylaysdelusions]

Take care p1

When a star basketball player and a stripper meet under true intentions and a lie 

A/n: my first series!

The club lights gleam down on her dark hair as she moves across the stage, swaying her hips to the sensual music playing in the background. Her bra will hopefully soon be stuffed with 100 dollar bills. The club is in a decent part of town, usually the rich ones come here for their show. Tonight has been slow so far in terms of actual payers not just lookers. Riley feels the first real sack of cash thrown at her heel.

Her eyebrows softly crease when she realizes it’s 1k and she softly smiles. She looks in front of her to see who had thrown it. To her surprise it’s a young blonde woman, not the typical older man she comes across here. The woman makes eye contact with her for a moment and it stops Riley in her tracks. She’s got the face of a sculpted goddess, with her long blonde hair and angular features.

Riley tosses her a wink and continues her movements across the floor with the cash now stuffed in her purple bralette. About an hour passes and a few 50 dollar stacks are obtained but not much else. Her shift is almost over but she made 1k, that’s more than enough to pay for a good meal tonight and her bills in a few days.

11 pm swings around fast and soon Riley’s moving off the stage and into the dressing rooms. “Hey baby” Kelsey says. Kelsey is a couple years older than Riley and shes much more experienced with the whole stripping idea. She taught Riley how to make the most money fall at her feet and it’s definitely made her more comfortable around the club and the other girls. Riley responds with a “hey girl!” I mean this isn’t the greatest job but she’s made it home for now.

“How much ya get?” The redhead smirks. “1,200” Kelsey’s jaw falls open in shock. “Ry how hard were they, damn” it takes Riley a second to realize what she means and she slaps her shoulder. “What the hell kels” she rolls her eyes. “just saying!”

“It was actually a young woman that gave me the 1k” Riley says with a proud smile. “Really?? That’s rare” Kelsey’s face looks questionably at her. “Yeah, she was stunning and blonde, one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen” Riley says as the mirror light shines on her smooth brown skin. “That could’ve been your soulmate bae” Kels says bursting out into a laugh. “Definitely not she was way too rich to actually fuck wit a stripper”

“Well damn you’re probably right, ima head out for the night I’ll see you Friday, take care of yourself for me ok?” The woman’s red curls swing side to side as she reaches the door handle. “Good night see you soon” Riley responds back with a sigh. Now it’s time for her to head out. She pulled her coat over her shoulders and reapplied her peachy lip gloss. Her undereye bags show as she looks at herself in the full body mirror, she’s drained.

When she passes the bar area she notices something, more like someone, the same woman who she definitely wouldn’t forget. She seems to be arguing with the bartender. She stops in her tracks and suddenly they make eye contact. Riley feels the woman’s piercing blue eyes stare directly into her deep brown ones. It makes her shudder.

The blonde tells the bartender to hold on a second and starts to walk towards her. “Hey” her voice is deep and smooth. “Hey?” Riley replies, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the one I gave that stack to right?” She says so confidently it makes her brain twist. “Y-yeah” and for the first time in so long she’s stuttering. “You were and are absolutely stunning, you know that?” The woman says and it sends a shiver down her spine.

“Look I don’t do that kind of work if that’s what you’re going to ask for” Riley doesn’t need that tonight. “No- never! I wasn’t meaning to sound creepy, I just wanted to actually talk to you” the way she says it sounds genuine and she can feel it. “Well..sure” I mean what’s the worst that could happen Riley doesn’t have much of a life anyways. “I’m Alex” the woman tells her and they both subtly smile at each other. “I’m Riley”

“If you want I can buy you a drink, it’s on me” Riley agrees to a wine although most would call it boring Alex called it a good choice. They start a gentle conversation and the words naturally come out her lips which isn’t normal for Riley. She’s always been a little bit shy or awkward. In high school she stayed to herself because people were jerks and when she was in college classes she was too busy to enjoy the campus life. Now she’s got Kelsey and that’s all.

“So you in school?” Paige says and Riley shakes her head while she takes a sip of the wine. “Nope, dropped out freshman” the curly head’s face shines under the club lights delicately, looking beautiful as ever. Paige feels terrible and she knows it’s wrong but she can’t mess up the both of them with her reputation. Riley’s brown eyes look into Paige’s ever so often and it makes her heart glow. ‘Paige stop it’ the blonde says to herself.

“Hm what were you going for?” She asks, tasting her tequila shot. “Psychology” Riley answers, hoping not to be judged. Telling people that usually results in a rude comment about how she’s thrown her intelligence away for such a low job. “Oo that’s so cool! I love women with book and street smarts” Paige smirks making Riley’s body flush. She’s not used to embarrassing herself like this. I guess it’s easier to talk to men when you’re not attracted to them like women.

“Oh be quiet, it didn’t get me very far clearly” she sighs, motioning to the room surrounding them. “I mean hey at least you’re working” she shrugs to let Riley know she doesn’t mind. “It might not be the most glamorous job but you’re getting yo cash that’s good” Riley laughs and nods her head. She’s honestly mesmerized; she’s never seen a woman quite like this. She’s amazing with her words and her attitude on top of the looks.

The both of them are unaware of the subtle pass of time and suddenly it’s 1 am. “Oh shit I get home” Paige tells Riley when she realizes that Kk is gonna be on her ass about staying that late at a strip club. I mean what was she supposed to do? Kk invited her girlfriend over for the night. Trust and believe Paige didn’t want to be in the dorm during that.

“I better get going too, can I have your number?” Paige’s eyes light up at the ask. “Yeah of course!” They exchange numbers and say their goodbyes. “Goodnight Alex” Riley says, oblivious. “Goodnight” the player says back. On Paige’s drive home she felt the guilt start to eat at her. Really though, is a girl like Riley going to stick around? Probably not, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal anyway.

However on Riley’s drive home she can’t stop imagining what ‘Alex’ must actually feel. Who wants to have a genuine conversation with a stripper? Not many so Alex must have felt something. Riley rubs her temples as she pulls into her apartment parking spot. She can already hear her neighbors in an aggressive argument.

Her apartment is a madhouse because of her neighbors and the walls are thin so that definitely doesn’t help the issue. “I won’t be getting much sleep..” Riley tells herself as she sits her bag down on her bedside. She wipes her makeup off in her bathroom and just looks at her reflection for a moment. She needs a break from this mess but she can’t afford one at least for now.

[wonderjanga]

Billy Pranks Hal

Billy doesn’t know the difference between pranks and straight up crime. He doesn’t know this because Freddy’s ideas of pranks are crimes. The reason this is, is because he didn’t really grown up around any other kids his age. So, Freddy’s the best example he’s got. So, when Hal pranks him, he decides to “prank” him back. By the way, during all of this, he thinks this is just lighthearted fun.

Billy (in Marvel from) gets the most brilliant idea. Though, technically it isn’t his idea, but rather Freddy’s. He’s going to hire a hooker to give Hal herpes. Pause, and run it back. He’s going to hire a hooker, bring her to the Watchtower, have her brush her teeth with Hal’s toothbrush, and then that will him herpes. Freddy said he saw it on a Southpark episode and wanted to see if it would actually work in real life. So the two talked to Ms.Bambi to see if any of her friends had the disease and sure enough she knew someone. She was a little skeptical, but when they told her the reason, she gave in. But she did end up supervising them the whole way, including going with them to the guy they were “pranking’s” house. It’s one of Billy’s favorite memories.

So, Billy approaches her as Marvel and asks her her to do it. She briefly remarks about how this is the second time she’s had to do this, but agrees as long as he pays her fare. He scrounges up the few dollars he has, pays her, and he takes her to the Watchtower. He obviously gets weird looks because why did Captain Marvel of all people come to the Watchtower with someone who looks(they didn’t want to assume) like a hooker? Meanwhile, Marvel and Ms.Hooker are chatting about being broke, ignoring the looks. Eventually they get to Hal’s room and just as they’re about to find a way in, John leaves the room next to them.

John: “Hey, Cap.” *waves, then does a double take at Ms.Hooker* “Who’s this?”

Marvel: “Hmm? Oh, this is Ms.Foxy.”

Ms.Foxy: “Hey.” *waves*

John: “Okay… Cool. Cool… Why’re you trying to get into Green Lantern’s room?”

Ms.Foxy: “Aren’t you Green Lantern?”

Marvel: “There’s like four of them actually.” *looks over to Ms.Foxy while holding up 4 fingers*

John: “There’s actually more- Never mind, you didn’t answer my question, Cap.”

Marvel: “Oh right! I’m pranking him. Ms.Foxy is going to help me.” *gestures to Ms.Foxy*

John: “Huh. Really? What’re you going to do?”

Marvel: “She’s gonna give him herpes.”

*loud silence*

John: “…What?”

Marvel: “She’s gonna give him herpes.”

John: “…okay. I thought I heard you correctly. YOU’RE GOING TO DO WHAT?!”

Marvel: *surprised by the sudden yelling* “She’s going to give him herpes- why is that so surprising?”

Ms.Foxy: “No offense, big man, but that’s not necessarily something you do just as a prank.” *Pats Marvel’s arm* “This is more getting revenge for someone hitting your dog with a car type of shit.”

John: “YES! She’s right! What did he do to you? How bad was the prank??”

Marvel: “Nothing that bad? All he did was leave a tack on my chair when we switched for monitor duty. It didn’t really do anything though except bend since it couldn’t prick me.”

John: “Okay???? Then what did he do to warrant this??” *sounds extremely distressed and confused*

Marvel: “Well, he pranked me. I’m just pranking him back.”

Ms.Foxy: “I don’t think you get what he’s trying to tell you. This isn’t really a prank, bud. It’s more like chemical warfare.”

Marvel: “Really…? I had no idea. I thought this was normal.” *sighs*

John: “Why would this be normal?”

Ms.Foxy: *ignores him* “Do you want your money back since we aren’t going to do it?”

John: “Money?”

Marvel: *also ignores him* “No, it’s fine, Ms.Foxy. Keep it.” *gives her sunny smile*

John: *takes deep breath* “Captain. Is this woman a hooker?”

Ms.Foxy: *looks over to start acknowledging him again* “I prefer the term prostitute.”

Marvel: *also starts acknowledging him again* “Yeah GL, she prefers the term prostitute. But yes, she’s a hooker.”

John: *takes a few minutes to process his words* “Captain… why is a hooker in the Watchtower?”

Marvel: “Again, prostitute. Also, she’s the one who has herpes. She was kind of needed for this entire prank to happen.”

John: “Prostitute, hooker, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that she’s a civilian. Also stop calling it a prank.”

Ms.Foxy: “He is right, you really should stop calling it that.” *nods head*

John: “Look, just get her outta here. Civilians aren’t allowed up here. Bats is gonna glare at you the same way he did to Flash when he brought someone up here.”

Marvel: “Alright alright. Noted. I won’t bring anyone else up here.” *looks over to Ms.Foxy* “Let’s head back then.”

*They leave while John is still processing everything that just went down*

[internetdaddy98]

The Ties That Bind Us - Chapter 33

Previous | Next [Series Masterlist] Content Warning: jealousssy, medical proedures

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There were good days in the ER, and then there were entertaining days.

Today, according to Dana, was shaping up to be the latter.

“Heads up,” she said in a singsong voice as she approached the nurse’s station, sliding a cup of black coffee across the desk to Robby. “New cardio attending on the floor,” she whispered “Tall. Tan. Gold watch. Looks like he flosses with hundred-dollar bills and does push-ups during rounds.”

Robby raised a brow. “And?”

“And he asked me who the pretty brunette in the mustard cardigan was.”

Robby’s hand froze mid-sip. “What?”

“You heard me,” Dana said with a wicked grin. “Pretty. Brunette. Mustard cardigan. So basically—your very taken girlfriend.”

Robby blinked slowly. “Did you tell him?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Dana said brightly. “What do I look like? A decent person?”

Before Robby could reply, a voice called out behind him, smooth and confident.

“Dr. Robinavitch?”

He turned. A man with perfect posture, polished shoes, and a dazzling white smile stood holding a tablet. He looked like a walking GQ ad with a stethoscope accessory.

“Dr. Carson. Cardiology. I transferred in from UCSF.” the man said, offering a hand.” “Just wanted to introduce myself.”

“Nice to meet you,” Robby said warily, shaking his hand.

Carson glanced casually across the ER, where you stood a few feet away reviewing patients on the board, your signature cardigan sleeves pushed up and a pen tucked into the corner of your mouth.

Carson’s eyes darted across the room. “Listen, I hope this isn’t inappropriate, but... I’ve seen you and Dr. Williams around, and I was wondering if you might, uh... put in a good word for me?”

Robby blinked. “A good word... with who?”

“Dr. Williams,” Carson said. “I don’t want to be weird about it, but she’s gorgeous. And she seems brilliant. I thought maybe, if she’s single, you could help me out? Slip me her number?”

Across the station, Dana had dropped her glasses.

Santos had visibly stopped breathing.

Whittaker mouthed the word oh no like he was watching a romcom train wreck in slow motion.

Robby just... stared. The kind of blank, stunned stare that said he wasn’t quite sure if this was happening in real life or if he had blacked out in one of the trauma rooms and this was some elaborate hallucination.

Robby blinked. Slowly. Once. Twice.

“...you want me to help you ask out my fiancée?” he said slowly.

Carson blinked. “She’s your fiancée?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. OH.”

Silence.

“That explains a lot,” Carson muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “You two seemed close. I just thought... You know... good coworkers.”

Robby narrowed his eyes. “We live together.”

Dana choked on her coffee.

Carson raised his hands in surrender. “I fully accept defeat. You’re a lucky guy. Seriously. No disrespect meant.”

“No offense taken,” Robby said with a smile that was technically polite but felt like it had teeth.

Just then, you walked up to the desk, flipping through a stack of vitals. “Hey, has anyone seen the labs for Room 4? I’ve been waiting on—”

Carson turned toward her, determined to salvage his dignity. “Dr. Williams. I was just telling Dr. Robinavitch how incredibly impressive your work is.”

“Oh, thank you,” you said, barely glancing up from your chart. “Do you have the BNP for that CHF case?”

Robby watched her, his expression dry.

Carson chuckled. “Direct and efficient. I love that.”

You mumbled confusedly. “I just need the lab results.”

“Right. Of course.” He turned to Robby. “You’re a lucky guy.”

You finally looked up from your chart, confused. “Did I miss something?”

Robby stepped closer, looping an arm around your waist with casual, possessive ease. “Nope. Just clarifying some... relationship statuses.”

You frowned. “Okayyy.”

Carson winced again.

Robby gave him a tight nod. “All caught up now?”

“Crystal.”

As Carson turned to retreat, Dana called out behind him, “Tough beat, doc.”

You looked between them, baffled. “Wait. What just happened?”

Santos made a dramatic throat-slash motion toward Carson.

Robby kissed your temple. “You’re oblivious, you know that?”

“I'm focused,” you corrected.

“On everything except the part where a man just asked your fiancé to hook him up with you.”

Your eyes widened. “That’s what just happened?”

“Yup.”

“Oh my God.”

“You’re very popular,” Robby said dryly.

You laughed. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m possessive,” Robby corrected. “Which is healthy when your fiancé is so charming that other men forget to check her left hand.”

You smiled, stepping in to kiss his cheek. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

“I do love it.”

[hongjoongtime117]

I can’t stand you - 200 follower special

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong/reader

Genre: SMUT (MDNI 18+)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: rough sex, bratty reader, oral (M receiving), enemies to lovers, edging, marking, “hate” fuck (as usual, probably forgot a lot, let me know!)

Author’s Notes: Thank you all SO MUCH for 200 followers! I hope you all enjoy this! It was fun to write. My love aggression for Hongjoong may have prompted this idea, just a little bit!

Taglist: @kihyuns-military-wife @Arki-sha @Ghostlovesworld 

The bass thumps loudly in the club, vibrating you to your core. You grind against Mingi, as you watch the one man in your friend group you absolutely can’t stand with a look of disgust as he nurses his drink at the bar. 

“God, I can’t fucking stand him, Mingi!” you say into his ear, loud enough to be heard over the music. 

“I never understood why, though. What’s he ever done to you?” Mingi throws his head back with a hiccuping laugh.

“He’s just arrogant and cocky!” Not that he didn’t have reason to be, he’s absolutely gorgeous. He was in fact the furthest thing from cocky. He was sweet and charming, and you wanted him. But you would never let him know that, or the rest of the group. You would be teased relentlessly by them, given the facade you’ve maintained about your hatred for Hongjoong. 

You head to the bar to down another shot, purposely squeezing yourself next to Hongjoong in the crowded space. 

“Hey there, pretty girl.” Hongjoong gives you that million dollar smile and you return it with a roll of your eyes.

“Fuck off, Hongjoong,” you snark as you throw back your shot, hissing at the bitter liquid. 

As you go to walk away, he grabs your wrist and pulls you to him. “Why are you always so fucking feisty with me? Seriously, what have I done?” his tone serious and a glimmer of something else hidden in his dark eyes. 

“I just can’t fucking stand you, Hongjoong. Haven’t I made that abundantly clear!?” you shout as you rip your wrist from his grip and head back through the crowd to Mingi, who’s now dancing with Yunho. 

“What’s got you all riled up?” Wooyoung questions as he sees the annoyed expression on your face. 

“What always does, Woo?” you say with an exasperated sigh.

“I think you two just need to fuck out all of this tension yall got going on,” Wooyoung prods with a smirk and a wiggle of his brows.

“Yeah fucking right, Woo. Be so for real right now,” your annoyance growing at his teasing.

With the tension that’s always sparked between you two it would indeed be the hate fuck of the century. You didn’t actually hate Hongjoong. You hated how absolutely perfect he was. And before you could tamper down your attitude, Hongjoong had quickly followed you through the crowd, relinquishing any semblance of control you had gained over your emotions. He again grabs hold of your wrist and drags you through the crowd towards the exit, tightening his grip as you struggle against him. The remaining seven of the group exchange surprised glances with each other.

“LET GO OF ME, KIM HONGJOONG!” you scream at him once you’ve made it to the much quieter outdoors of the club. He ignores your raised voice and throws you over his shoulder and carries you to his car as you beat against his back. Once you’ve reached his car, he finally sets you down. 

“Get in,” he opens the door and gestures for you to hop in. 

“Since when do I take orders from you?” 

He pinches the bridge of his nose as he lets out a long, tired sigh. “Y/N. I’m taking you back to my place. We need to talk. Whatever this reason is that you hate my guts, I need to know so I can fix it. And the club isn’t exactly the proper place to do so.” 

You roll your eyes, and half heartedly plop into the passenger seat of his sleek, black sports car. He settles into the driver’s side and starts the car, engine purring to life. The car ride to his place is eerily silent, as is the ascent to his apartment. 

He unlocks his door and allows you to enter first. With the door shut securely behind the two of you, he pins you to the door by your throat. Not enough to restrict airflow, but enough to let you know he means business. “You want to tell me what your problem is?” his voice a low, dangerous growl.

The corner of your mouth curls up into a mocking smirk. “I fucking hate you, and your stupid, pretty face. Your perfect damn smile. That gorgeous ass body I know you have hiding under all those clothes. Your perfectly pointed nose that I think about riding more often than I should. There, you happy now?” venom oozing from your words as you push him away from you and throw yourself onto his couch. 

Before you can fully settle, he’s hovered over you on the couch. He grabs a fist full of your hair and yanks, forcing you to make eye contact with his blown out pupils. “Awww, if you wanted to ride my face, all you had to do was ask, darling,” his tone condescending. “But then again,” he places one of your small hands on the buldge growing in his jeans, “my dick clearly enjoys your attitude.”

“You’re all talk, Joong. All bark and no bite,” you challenge him, even in your vulnerable position. 

“No bite, hmm?” he whispers into the shell of your ear as he straddles your body and rests in your lap. Without warning, he sinks his teeth into the flesh of your neck, bringing forth a sharp gasp from your lips. “You can talk all the shit you want. But I know you want me as badly as I want you, and I’ll have you begging for more long before I’m finished with you.”

“Cocky much, Joongie?” you spit out.

“Is it really cocky if I know I can back up my words, darling?” He places heated, wet kisses on all the sensitive areas of your neck, his hold on your hair never faltering, and you can feel the stickiness forming between your thighs.

“Yet all I’m still hearing is a bunch of talk.”

Your feistiness makes Hongjoong groan into your neck before leaving another harsh bite. “That little mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.”

“Like I give a shit,” you choke out. You’re pulling out all the stops to piss him off enough to thoroughly ruin you. 

“I’ve got better uses for that smart mouth of yours,” he growls, annoyance seeping through his words. For the second time tonight, he throws you over his shoulder, and carries you to his room. He throws you on the bed on your back, your head towards the foot of it. He hastily strips himself of all of his clothes, and his throbbing cock slaps against his abdomen. You don’t even need to right yourself to tell his size is impressive. You swallow hard at the sight, your mouth going dry.

“Nothing to say now, huh?” the devilish smirk playing on his lips. “Open up for me, pretty.” 

You open your mouth wide for him, and he shoves his thick cock down your throat in one go, making you choke around him. “Mmm, that’s the sound I love to hear. Not your smart ass mouth.” 

In a fit of defiance, you carefully but firmly let your teeth graze his cock as he thrusts in and out. Crazed look in his eyes, he grabs you by your throat, pushing against the bulge his dick has created. “You better watch those teeth, little brat.” He removes himself from your mouth, and you fill your lungs with a full breath of air. 

“Or what, Joong? Hmm?” you grit, catching your breath as you sit yourself up on the bed.

“I’ll just have to fuck your brains out until you beg for mercy,” a wicked glint flashes across his eyes, and he climbs towards you, like a predator after prey.

“You keep making promises, yet I’m still here, not being fucked. You know, if you’re incapable, I’m more than happy to find someone else to satisfy me. Or do it myself. And just leave you here with an angry, leaking cock,” you shrug, indifferent.

“Fucking try me,” he snarls, his face centimeters from yours, breaths mingling together.

You move to get up from the bed, but before you can move an inch he has you pinned against the mattress under him. He reaches under your skirt and swipes two fingers through the slick that is pouring out of your tight hole. “With the way she’s purring for me, I know you’re full of shit. And no panties? You were just waiting for someone to fill you, hmmm?”

“So sure of yourself, huh?” you pant.

“Darling, you’ve been eye fucking me from the moment we met. I know you want to be split open on my cock, until the only thing that leaves your lips is my name.”

“Does this bullshit work on all the other girls?” 

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, darling. There are no others. The only one I want to stuff full is you.”

You scoff at his words. “Yeah? Then prove it to me. You’re still all talk, Joongie.”

Without warning, he flips you around on your stomach and lifts your ass in the air. He rips off the skirt, and resounding smack fills the air along with a strangled moan from you. He gently rubs the reddening mark on your ass cheek. “Mmm, such a pretty color, let’s make the other one match, hmm?” He lands the second smack, and watches your hole tighten around nothing as you let out a high pitched whine. 

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” you say, feigning annoyance. 

Without so much as a warning, he shoves two fingers inside your wet heat, and plays with your sweet spot, ripping a loud whine from your lips. “Acting like you hate me, but your body betrays every word that leaves those sweet little lips.”

You fake a yawn. “Are you done yet? I’m getting bored.” You pick up your phone from the night stand and unlock it, attempting to piss him off even more. 

Harshly pushing his fingers further inside of you, he yanks your phone from you with his free hand and tosses it somewhere on the floor. You gasp at the sudden force of his fingers. “I want all of your focus on me as I pull you apart, piece by piece, my little stubborn brat,” he growls into your ear.

Against your heaving breaths, you still maintain your defiance. “I think it’s you who’s going to fall apart first, Joong.” He gives you an extremely arrogant laugh. “Mmm, not so fast, baby.”

“But I like fast,” you quip back.

“Unfortunate that I’m the one who’s in charge here, darling. It’s about time I show your needy little pussy who’s the boss.”

“Oh, and who is that, Hongjoong?” you try and say with confidence, but the tremble in your voice betrays you just the smallest bit.

“Considering the way she’s sucking in my fingers, and clenching them, I’d say it’s me. It’s always going to be me,” his fingers pumping in and out of you at a furious pace, and the fire in your gut is roaring. 

“Prove it, then,” the challenge in your voice evident.

He pulls his slick covered fingers out of your spasming hole, and reaches around to rub light circles against your clit. Just light enough to leave you on the edge, but never enough to tip you over. He switches between your dripping hole and your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your pussy is making loud, lewd noises from how wet you’ve become in your little banter with Hongjoong, and how well he’s working your body. “You hear that, baby? How wet she is for me? She’s mine. You’re mine.”

“You sure about that?” you huff out, trying not to give him the satisfaction of your moans, letting him know how good you feel. But a slight pinch to your clit renders your efforts useless.

He pulls you by your throat until your back meets his strong chest and whispers in your ear. “With the way you’re soaking my hand and the pretty noises you’re making for me, and you haven’t even had my cock yet, I’d fucking say so, darling.”

“I bet Mingi could do a better job. I should find out. He’s been dreaming to be where you are right now.”

His jaw clenches in annoyance at the mention of someone else having you the way he is right now. He slides his fingers back inside you, bringing you right to the edge. Your legs tremble as you whimper and whine, and before you can get the euphoria of release, he withdraws his fingers. 

You sigh in frustration and he chuckles because he has you right where he wants you. “You sure know how to push my buttons, hmm? I’m gonna stretch this pretty little pussy open until the only thing you can scream is my name.” He uses the hand soaked in your juices and brings it to one of your aching nipples. He pinches and pulls, just hard enough to bring pleasure. He can see your pulse pounding in your neck, and he sucks a dark, possessive mark right over it. 

He brings his unoccupied hand back to your swollen clit, giving you the friction you’ve been craving. Tears spring to the corners of your eyes from all the sensations he’s making you feel. Your breathing is ragged from his ministrations, labored pants mixing with the heavy breathing from Hongjoong, and the squelch of your pussy.

He can tell you’re reaching your peak yet again, and yet again, he stops. The tears you tried so hard to stop from escaping finally fall down your cheeks, along with a strangled cry. Hongjoong licks them up with a smirk, savoring the salty taste.

“Hongjoong, please,” you beg breathlessly.

“What was that, darling? Please what? You’ve been using your words this entire time, don’t stop now, my little brat.” His tone is mocking, but at this point you couldn’t care less. You need him, in the worst way. 

“Fuck, I need you. Please,” desperation in your voice.

“That’s it, darling. Beg for my cock. Let yourself go. Fall apart for me, baby.” He places you down on the bed and rolls you over until you’re on your back as he cages you in. He sets a tortuous pace in exploring your body with his mouth, leaving no skin unkissed.

“Hongjoong…” you say his name in a drawn out whisper. “Please…” He looks up at you through half lidded eyes, stopping his exploration for a moment. Tears spill down your cheeks again and he gently wipes them away. 

“Look at you, crying for me baby. Tell me what you need,” he coos.

“S-stop teasing!” You’re writhing underneath him, your body on fire, as you grow restless, waiting for him to finally fill you.

“Patience, darling. Haven’t you ever heard that good things come to those who wait?” The grin on his face makes you whimper with a need you’ve never felt before. He slides his cock between your glistening folds, spreading your arousal to coat him before he pushes just the tip inside your aching pussy. You both let out a simultaneous moan as he stretches you just the slightest bit, and he finally gets a feel of how tight and wet you are.

“How long are you going to let us both suffer, hmm? I’ve waited, now give me something good,” you pout at him, that hint of bratiness still hanging on by a thread. 

He slowly pushes in, just another inch and you try to rock your hips to push him inside further. He pushes your hips down roughly to stop you. “So needy, darling.”

“Hongjoong, you’re just torturing me at this point.” Your hands grip the sheets beneath you as you try and gain control over your body, every nerve set alight by how much you need him right now.

“Mmm, and what do you think you’ve been doing to me for years, baby?” He growls as he envelops your mouth in a searing kiss. As the kiss grows more impatient and messy, he finally sinks the rest of his throbbing cock inside your warm, wet heat. Your eyes widen and he swallows your moan, your back arching prettily underneath him.

Panting hard, he breaks the kiss. “Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me. You’re mine. No one else gets to feel these tight, silky walls squeezing their cock, do you understand?” 

“Yes, Hongjoong.” Your voice is barely above a whisper and your walls squeeze him tighter at his words as you finally succumb to the man you’ve pretended to hate for so long. 

“That’s a good girl. All you needed this entire time was for me to put you in your place, and stretch you open, hmm?” He groans at your pussy clenching around his cock, his strokes lazy and unhurried. “I knew it was only a matter of time before I tamed that sassy little mouth, darling.”

“Fuck, Hongjoong.”

“So obedient now, hmm, baby?” He smirks as he looms over you to place a claiming bite on the flesh of your shoulder.  

You choke on a moan at the pleasure mixed with pain from his bite. You smirk dangerously at him, your brat never fully becoming tamed. “I enjoy a bit of pain, Joong. Stop treating me like I’m fucking fragile.”

“Oh, do you now, darling? Let’s see just how much you enjoy it.”

“Ruin me, Hongjoong,” you taunt, wrapping your legs around him, pushing him in impossibly deeper, and your hole pouring out even more slick around his cock. 

The look is his eyes is primal as he sets a punishing pace, the sounds of skin meeting skin filling the room, along with the symphony of pretty noises falling from your lips, and the deep, guttural ones from Hongjoong’s. Hongjoong’s eyes fall to your stomach, where he can see the online of his cock as it pistons in and out. He splays his hand across it and pushes down, just slightly, the pressure causing your orgasm to come barreling to the forefront exceedingly fast. Your walls throbbing around Hongjoong has his head thrown back in ecstasy, a predatory growl rumbling in his chest. 

“Come on darling, cum on my cock. Let that sweet little cunt milk me for every drop.” 

Neither of you being able to take in a full breath, chests heaving in rapid succession, he places a single finger under your chin. “I want you to look at me when you cum, darling.” After a few more thrusts and expert fingers on your clit, you come undone, locking eyes with him as he soon follows, hot seed filling you to the brim. 

His warm, sweaty body collapses next to you and he pulls you close. “Are you done hating me now?” he questions, trying to keep his voice light, but there’s a hint of seriousness and worry in his tone. 

“Hongjoong, I never hated you,” you chuckle. “And if I did, you fucked it out of me.” 

“So does this mean that you’re actually mine?” He mouths at your shoulder and the back of your neck. “You’re not gonna go run off with Mingi?” he jokes.

“I’m yours, Hongjoong. Who’s Mingi?” 

The two of you shake with laughter as you cuddle close, enjoying the newfound relationship between you. 

[winstonsns]

I love ur writing so, so, so, so, so much!! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write Dallas x Reader where he met reader through Ponyboy and Johnny. Like both Johnny and Ponyboy are really really close friends with reader and Dallas is curious and wants to met them and Dallas develops a little puppy crush!

Only write if ur comfortable/have time! Love ya and I’m excited to see you write more in the future! 🖤🖤🖤

can’t help falling in love (request)

authors note: i have a shit ton of requests but try to post once each day, please be patient if i haven’t gotten to yours yet! i’m so glad you like my writing, i hope you enjoy! this is my first oneshot so idk if it’s good or not LMAO 💗

dally x reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: cussing, slightly suggestive, bob being a bitch

dally was sitting on his bed in his room, above buck’s bar when he suddenly heard a ring from the phone on his dresser. “god damn it, who the fuck could it be…” he mumbled, grumpily walking over to the phone and picking it up.

“hey, who the hell is this?” he asked, receiving a response quickly, “it’s pony. you wanna go to the drive in with me and johnny and our other friend? she’s real tuff, i’m sure you’d like her. the movie’s at 7—“

dally looked at the wall, checking the time on the clock. it was nearly 3pm, he thought for a moment before interrupting pony, “i’ll come over now, we can get some food or something before we leave for the movie.”

“see you in a bit, dallas.” he responded, dally putting down the phone and therefore ending the call. he stared at the dresser for a couple seconds before making up his mind, pulling on the drawer handle and taking a plain black shirt out, putting it over his head. he then walked to another part of his room, picking up his shoes on the floor, putting them on and grabbing his denim jacket from a hanger. he put his arms through the sleeves and walked to the door, walking downstairs, telling buck, “hey, i’m taking your car. goin’ to a friend’s house.”

he rolled his eyes before grabbing the keys from his pocket, tossing them to dally before he was on his way to pony’s house. going into the car, he wondered what you would be like, knowing you were going to the drive in with johnny and pony. as he was on the road, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, thinking about what you could look like or if he would think you’re as tuff as ponyboy thought.

by the time he was at ponyboy’s house, it was 3:30pm. he took the keys out of his car and opened the car door, closing it behind him once he got out. he walked over to the entrance of his friend’s house, opening the door since he knew it would be unlocked. “hey dally, took you long enough.” he heard someone say, recognizing it as johnny’s voice. “hey, man, how you doin’?” he asked, walking over to the kitchen where he saw johnny and ponyboy eating some chocolate cake. both of them looking at dally and nodding.

“isn’t there gonna be some broad at the drive in with you guys? what’s that about?” he asked, johnny and pony looking at each other, johnny grinning and holding his hand out to pony. he groaned and mumbled a “gotta be kiddin’ me…” and pulled a dollar out of his pocket, giving it to the dark haired boy next to him.

dally watched the whole interaction but was still confused, only after pony explained who you were, he understood the two of them had made a bet. “how have we not told you about her, man? y/n’s been our best friend for years, one of the only nice socs, we hang out like three times every week, man. have you not seen her?” pony explained, johnny answering his question and saying, “oh she’s beautiful, dallas, you’d love her.” ponyboy nodding his head, agreeing with johnny.

all three of them talked for a while in the curtis house, ranging from you, to dally almost getting put in jail again, to some fight that pony witnessed, to johnny getting beat up by a soc, then once again, back to you. time passed by quickly and before they knew it, two hours had passed, they only had an hour before they wanted to be at the drive in.

dally couldn’t keep his mind off of you, he got curious because of how highly pony and johnny spoke of you. saying you were an academic beast, the most beautiful person someone could ever meet, the funniest and best person someone would want to be around, etc. “knew each other since we were… god, what were we? oh, i was around 7 i think, she was around 10.” pony stated, bringing dally back into the conversation after he zoned out.

the rest of the hour was spent talking about you, how you, pony and johnny met and became friends. detail by detail, dally grew more and more excited to meet you, but he tried not to show it. pony and dally continued their conversation while johnny glanced at the clock, noticing it was nearly 6:30. “hey guys, it’s close to seven. think we should start headin’ over to the drive in, yeah?” he asked, the two other boys nodding, getting up from their seats and walking out the door to the drive in.

by the time they arrived, the sky was dark even though it was still early. they looked around before getting on their knees, crawling under the fence and getting their jeans a bit dirtier than they wanted. “should be in a black mustang, i think. that’s what she has, right johnny?” pony stated, wanting to have his statement confirmed by his friend first. “yeah, pretty sure. wait— isn’t it dark blue?”

the two kept bickering back and forth, looking around even though many people were there. he glanced around, remembering how pony and johnny described your features, trying to find someone who described them. the three boys were near rows of chairs, your friends still arguing about what color your car was.

dally heard footsteps walking towards his direction and a loud voice, he recognized it as someone was yelling at another person. “god, won’t you just fucking listen to me, y/n!!? you can’t be hanging out with those— those hoods, they’ll ruin you!!” a boy with curly blond hair with an alcohol bottle in his hand yelled, dally realizing he was bob, someone that johnny had described multiple times, with his rings that cut up johnny’s face.

“look, bob. we’re not even together, why do you care so much about this? they aren’t bad people, you have to understand that!!” you argued back, trying to keep your voice steady and managing not to yell at him. even though the two of you were somewhat far away, dally lightly hit johnny’s arm and pointed at you, asking, “is that your friend?” looking back at him, seeing both of the younger boys smile.

pony and johnny started to walk towards you when he stopped them, worrying, “hey, hey… seems like she’s in an argument with that one guy over there. don’t you think we should wait?” the two of them paused, staring at you, watching you and bob continue arguing, him losing his temper and screaming at you, “you’re a fucking whore, y/n! a bitch too, leaving us for some gross hoods. what, you wanna live on the streets too, huh?”

you rolled your eyes, knowing they didn’t really live on the streets, they just knew them better. they weren’t as fortunate as you and bob, as the socs. you continued letting him yell at you when you heard footsteps behind you, like they were from multiple people. when bob paused and looked behind you and asked, “who the hell are you? get lost.” spitting near the people behind you, you cringed and moved away from the spit and bob, looking behind you to see johnny, pony and a boy who you haven’t seen before.

the dark haired boy, who was a bit taller than pony and johnny came closer to bob’s face. asking, “why the fuck are you yelling at her, huh? you have no fucking right to do that, you piece of shit.” pushing bob’s chest, causing him to back up. he looked at you, complaining, “this ain’t worth my time,” slowly walking backwards then turning around to walk towards his friends.

dally turned around, seeing you already looking at him and smiling. “you’re dally, aren’t you? i’ve heard about you before. pony and johnny talk about you sometimes…” you added, glancing over to the two boys at the end. he responded, “yeah, it’s dally. so you’re y/n, huh? the boys talk very highly of you, it’s a big thing to meet you,” pausing, hearing you giggle, then continuing, “you’re pretty good looking, you know. should get to know each other better, yeah?” smirking when he saw you blush.

after the four of you reached the seats, you sat in a row, two behind johnny and pony. the two of you continued talking although the movie had already started, not even paying attention. you had learned dally had an insanely long criminal record while you had none, his parents were both shitty and didn’t care about him, but yours were perfect. he didn’t give a shit about school, meanwhile you would most likely be the valedictorian. but he wanted to attend school again just so he could see you.

even though the two of you didn’t notice, the movie had ended as quickly as it started. both of you kept chatting away before pony and johnny looked behind the two of you and spoke, “man, nearly everyone’s gone. i think we should all go home, right? don’t want your parents to be mad, right y/n? don’t wanna get grounded again.” johnny teased, you rolling your eyes playfully and agreeing, “yeah, we should probably get going.”

when you looked away, dally gave the two boys a look and shrugged, a gesture for, “what the hell was that for?!” so they shrugged back and got up from their seats. the three boys walked you over to your car, ponyboy asked you all, “so, what’d you guys think of the movie?”

you and dally looked at each other and grinned, he replied, “wasn’t paying attention.” and you nodded, agreeing, “yeah, i wasn’t either.” he lightly bumped your shoulder in a teasing manner, causing you to giggle. by the time you got to your car, you felt your mood start to change drastically, going from happy to a sense of sadness. you wanted to continue talking to dally, but were nervous to ask.

you fidgeted with your hands and looked worried, staring at the ground before asking dally, “can i have your number?” his face turned into a shade of red, nodding quickly and speaking, “yeah, you got a pen and paper?” you wondered for a second before stating, “maybe, let me check.” so you opened your car door slightly and frantically looking around, yet finding a pen and not a piece of paper. you grabbed it and shrugged, “i only have a pen… sorry…” feeling bad that you got your hopes up.

he took the pen from your hands, asking if you could roll up your sleeves, you nodded and he gently grabbed your arm. as he wrote his number on your arm, you looked at johnny and pony, smiling at them while they gave you a thumbs up. “this doesn’t hurt, right?” dally asked, checking up on you. you shook your head, suddenly you didn’t feel pressure on your arm and he handed the pen back to you. looking on your arm, he wrote his number and ‘dally ;)’ at the bottom.

you smiled at the little winking face, looking up at him to see him already grinning at you. you mumbled, “i think i have to go now… i don’t want my parents to be mad…” dally looked at you, nodding and stating, “i’ll call you in the morning, ‘kay? we should hang out tomorrow.” while you got into your car, putting the keys in.

dally bent down to the window and smiled, you beamed, “it was nice meeting you, dally… i hope we can figure out another time to hang out. thanks for inviting me, pony and johnny.” they smiled and said “we’ll see you later!!” and waved as you drove out of the drive in, going in the direction of your house.

watching your car with a bit of sadness, dally turned his head and mumbled, “let’s get you two home…” johnny and pony teased him the whole way back to ponyboy’s house, saying it was so obvious that he thought you were cute and was trying to flirt with you. “your eyes were basically like hearts, like in the cartoons when they fall in love!!” johnny chuckled, getting a playful hit on the back from dally.

by the time they reached the curtis house, johnny and pony said goodbye to dally, “we’ll talk to you later, dallas. don’t fuck it up with y/n, we don’t have to choose in between you and her!!” waving at him when he got into the car, driving to buck’s. as he walked into the bar, a girl walked up to him and said, “hey, you wanna go somewhere? there’s a bathroom over there,” she pointed, “maybe we could… bang?” she winked, dally made a disgusted face and said, “i have a girlfriend, dipshit.” and walked away, knowing he didn’t really have anyone romantically, but he wanted you.

when he was brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed, he was thinking about you. the way you talked, trying to keep your sweet voice in his head, the way you looked at him with interest while he talked. you had made him feel important for those two hours the both of you talked. he yearned for you, for your attention and love, but he thought he wouldn’t admit that to anyone, not if it was to save his life.

when you got home and walked up to your bedroom after you took your shoes off, you smiled at the writing on your arm. walking to your vanity, you pulled out a sticky note and pencil, writing dally’s phone number with a ‘dally’ and a heart next to it, underneath the numbers themself.

you changed into your matching set of pajamas and went into your bathroom, grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste, wetting the toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it. you felt a lot different now than how you did with dallas, not even 30 minutes ago. you spit out the toothpaste once two minutes had passed, you wiped your mouth, turned the lights off and walked to your bed. you turned on the lamp that was on your nightstand, turning off your big light in the center of your room.

you and dally were both laying on your own beds, thinking about each other, both wondering “are they thinking about me too? there’s no way, it didn’t even seem like they liked me. maybe they were being nice.”

only johnny and pony knew, johnny had slept over at pony’s house while you called them, ranting to them about dally and how sweet he seemed, and when you hung up, they immediately got a call from the boy you were just talking about. he was talking about you, and for once seemed like he wanted something more than a short term relationship. he tried to make it seem like he didn’t care that much, but the two boys could tell.

authors note: yayyy my first oneshot!! i hope you liked it, sorry it was short!! ;3

[stellarboystyles]

a/n: ahhhh chapter two girlies!!!!!

“I think that last tequila shot fucked me.”

“Or the last twelve tequila shots.” Josie laughs. “I stopped after two.”

“And that’s why you’re the sensible one.” Shay groans, pushing the sunglasses up onto her face. “And I’m the tornado.”

Shay and Josie’s attention turned to see who was coming down the stairs, preparing themselves to channel their inner kiss ass if it was Emerson coming down those stairs.

“What’s up guys.”

Two sighs of relief were made as Aly’s feet shuffled across the kitchen floor.

“I was gonna make pancakes.” Josie answers. “Seriously, this house needs hangover food.”

“I agree.” Shay lays her head on the island counter. “A breakfast sandwich is the only thing that’ll prevent me from yaking all over the floor right now.”

“Coming right up, your majesty.” Josie snickers.

“This place is disgusting.” Aly leans her head back in agony before tackling all the plastic cups scattered in the living room.

“Remind me why we throw parties, again.”

“Because college is the only acceptable time in our lives to throw ragers.” Shay mutters. "If we were doing this in two years our families would be holding an intervention.”

“True.”

“Yikes.” Aly cringes at two bodies on the couch. “Someone had fun last night.”

She motions to the couch as she walks by, picking up some of the random cups off the coffee table.

“Who is it?” Shay whispers.

“Cole,” Aly mouths. “And Izzy.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Shay impulsively grabs the water bottle in front of her, taking off for the living room.

“What are you—Shay, don’t!”

Ignoring Josie’s protest, Shay did indeed splash the passed out duo with zero remorse. It did a pretty good job of waking them up, though. Despite what people say, waking someone up with water is oddly satisfying when they deserve it.

“Get out.”

“What the fuck, Shay?!” Cole shrieks, the two immediately standing up in shock of their soaking wet clothes.

“This is Emerson’s place too, which means neither of you are welcome here.” Shay . “Get out before I make you.”

Izzy grabs her phone and rushes out the front door, leaving Cole staring at Shay. He was fuming, probably because he couldn’t hit her.

“None of you even know what really fucking happened between me and Emerson.” Cole snaps. “I loved her—”

“Save the crocodile tears for Emerson. Now get on with that walk of shame like the ten dollar whore that you are.”

Josie’’s jaw was on the floor.

He scoffs before storming out and slamming the door behind him.

“Wow.”

“He needed it.” Shay grumbles.

“What the hell is going on?”

The three heads turn to see Violet had just come downstairs.

“You just missed it, Vi. Shay gave Izzy and Cole a front row seat at SeaWorld.”

Violets face changes from confusion to realization after hearing Aly’s words.

“They slept here? I kicked them out last night.”

“Apparently not—Oh.”

There wasn’t a girl in the house, except for Violet, who’s jaw wasn’t dropped when they saw who came down the stairs next.

Harry fucking Styles.

Now, there are a few things you need to know about Harry. He isn’t just some small town cutie with boy next door energy, he’s hot. Like, next level hot.

“Oh, hey Harry.” Shay greets, trying to dissolve the awkward silence that blanketed the room.

“Hey Shay.” he waves back.

“Ahh, d’you guys want some breakfast?” Josie asks.

“Ah, no. M’just heading out.” Harry steps forward. “See you later, V.”

“Yeah, I’ll walk you out.” Violet nods before turning back to her friends.

We didn’t, she mouths.

Her friends’ reactions are a mix of eye rolls and sexual motions…you can use your imagination.

***

“Let me take you out.”

Violet’s eyebrows raise slightly, a small smile on her face. “For…”

“On a date,” he tries. “For Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh, so you’re asking me to be your Valentine?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m asking.”

The smirk on his mouth was slowly proving just how charming he was.

“I’m just kidding.” she laughs. “Yes, I’ll go out with you.”

“I’ll pick you up at 6.”

***

“We didn’t.” she repeats.

“You really expect us to believe that? Look at him.”

“Believe what, exactly?”

“That you spent the night with McDreamy and didn’t have sex.”

“Don’t ruin my favorite show for me.”

“We didn’t do anything.” Violet repeats. “Seriously. I was waiting for it, but not one move.”

Josie raises her brows. “You guys didn’t make out or anything?”

“Not even a kiss.” Violet confirms, shaking her head.

“Awhhhh, that’s so sweet. He’s a gentleman.”

“Yeah,” Shay smiles. “He’s probably just waiting ‘till the third date to get in your pants.”

“Shut up.”

[theboywhoswallowedthesun]

“If I could give you the moon”-

A prongsfoot angst fic by me

James likes this. The way the two of them lay- legs so tangled it’s hard to make out which limb belongs to which body, as if their bodies aren’t each others anyway. He likes it when Sirius presses his whole weight to James’ chest to lean over and comb a strand of hair out of his face. He likes it when Sirius gets that sort of totally-sober-but-drunken-honesty that makes him sound almost real. For like ten seconds. Like a level of Sirius James is sure only he really gets to see. And maybe it’s selfish, that he feels that way. Maybe it’s greedy to pick up every last piece of the real and true Sirius black just to shove it into his pocket before anyone else can see. But James is a selfish man, whether Sirius wants to believe it or not.

But what James doesn’t like, is the next words Sirius Black speaks. His mouth apparently can’t make everything seem pretty, despite what James has been led to believe.

“James, mate, I think I’m really starting to love him. I really am. Remus is.. god, how do I even describe him..”

“Don’t.” James presses a hand to Sirius’ mouth, his breath heavy, almost painful as he falls back against Sirius’ chest.

And yeah, okay, James is sort of shitty for this. But he doesn’t care. Not right now. He’s not going to let his moment get totally fucked by Sirius’ idiot crush on his idiot best friend.

Sirius nods with the smallest chuckle before his hand goes back into James’ hair, and all is well again. James thinks he’s escaped the mean and ugly Jaws of romantic defeat yet again.

Until Tuesday. James and Sirius are stuck at each others side doing homework or reading or drawing or fuck knows what because when are they not at each others side, and of course Remus walks in. James doesn’t feel negatively about this. He isn’t unreasonable, Remus is still one of his best friends in spite of the sickening jealousy that had made its stay within the walls of the same chest he had learned to use for love.

But then.

Then, James looks over to Sirius. Sirius is awestruck. And it hits James like a ton of bricks-a knife to the fucking chest-His best friend, his other half, his Sirius, is awestruck. Everything falls down at once. The tightness in his chest unravels. How could James, despite this all, ever be against what made that man happy? No matter how he thinks he may feel, he’d sacrifice his limbs, organs, and skin for Sirius if he really wanted them. How could he ever be against love, even if it wasn’t his own?

This puts a new sort of pit in his abdomen- one James isn’t unfamiliar with- guilt. He’s guilty, because he’s tried so hard to deflect Sirius ‘ feelings. He’s tried, scratching and begging like a god damn dog to switch the conversation. To kiss him until he maybe, might have forgotten what he ever saw in Remus.

His best friend was in love, and he had tried to stop that. No matter how much James loved Sirius now matter how much he wanted to be the one Sirius talked about while entangled in another man’s arms, he knew he wouldn’t be. And he knew he wanted to give Sirius what he sought. Because of course he did. James was weak when it came to Sirius. No dollar amount was too high, no task impossible when it was Sirius who was asking for it. So this was all Remus was, really. Something Sirius wanted. And James, no matter how much it hurt, was going to get it for him.

James was awkward- sort of. He doesn’t know. Fuck. How do you not be awkward about this?

“Moony. Hey mate.”

Remus quirks a brow in a way that’s so, so difficult for James to digest right now. If only he knew the weight that his reaction holds. Remus shuts the book he’s reading. Some stupid piece of classic literature he stupidly reads. How stupid.

“Hey James. What’s this about?”

“No. Nothing. Just uh,” James reaches behind Remus’ spot on the sofa to pry some stupid book off of the stupid bookshelf, stupidly. He pats the front cover, drumming his fingers against it as if reaching some great revelation. “Needed this for one of my classes.”

Remus doesn’t believe him. But Remus doesn’t believe a lot of things- that’s his great big character flaw, his too weary. Maybe he has reason to be, sure, but James will never understand it. Call it his blind ignorance, but his habit for trusting any one man or woman so much it hurts him is just something he’ll never ever know how to shake. Remus and James are complete parallels. It’s jarring- The sun and the moon, the optimist and the pessimist, the extrovert and.. Remus. Maybe that’s why Sirius likes him maybe, because he’s so unlike James… maybe because..

James takes in a breath of air you’d think was smoke from how he coughed and hacked it out as soon as he left the dorm, and stood there. This wasn’t going to work. His pride inflated his throat every time he so much as tried to speak of Sirius to Remus. Despite the lengths he’d sworn he’d go for Sirius, this one was too far. Too impossible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James knew he couldn’t tiptoe around it. He had to be firm. Straight to the point. And straight to the point he was, when he burst into the library, a hand on Remus’ shoulder, his voice so cut and crisp Remus couldn’t even ask him to repeat what he said in fears he’d misheard.

“Do you want to fuck Sirius?”

“James what are you..”

“Do you want to fuck Sirius?”

Remus stutters. He stumbled over his words, pupils stuck to the upper left corner of his eyes as if to combobulate his response. As if this is a difficult reply. James knows what he’d said. He knows, that if it were Remus coming to him and asking the exact same question, he wouldn’t even blink. Wouldn’t hesitate. It would be a resounding, gross, loud yes.

“Merlin’s sake, answer the fucking question.”

“Yeah. No I mean, I think so.”

James blinks, as if surprised, “You think so?”

I mean- I would! I just- I’m kind of seeing this guy right now? I don’t know its knew and all but..”

James can’t believe what he’s hearing. He almost laughs.

“A guy?” He runs a hand down his face. “Christ, Remus, are you serious?”

By the shit-eating grin Remus gets on his face James is well aware what he’s going to say next, and he has not the patience nor the general mental wellbeing to stand it.

“No, I’m Remus.”

“And you’re absolutely screwing yourself right now! Sirius is perfect, he’s perfect, and you’re willing to fuck that up for some bloke that shouldn’t ever mean half as much to you as Sirius ever will to me. Honestly, mate, I don’t know how you be so dense about this. You have the opportunity of a lifetime and you aren’t even- you-“ James has to stop and catch his breath. Remus stands there, wide-eyed, an entirely new level of confused, when James storms out, huffing and angry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So of course, James is the shoulder he cries on when Sirius finds out about this aforementioned bloke. And of course, James is the one there to rub his back when the bloke turns out to be Sirius’ brother. Of course, James is the one who spends a stupid amount of money to make Sirius happy again because you can’t take the material value out of a nepo baby, no matter how hard you tug.

Of course, James is there when Sirius needs someone to drunkenly make out with, of course James is there when Sirius needs to fuck his energy into something that won’t ever act like he isn’t the world to him. Of course James is there when Sirius needs someone to tell him he’s pretty or he’s worth something or that he means the universe and more. Of course he’s there when Sirius selfishly needs to hear it from someone who means it. Of course Sirius knows James always will.

And of course, when this thing with this bloke blows over and Remus needs to run into the arms of an emotionally healed man, James lets Sirius go.

And of course, on their one year anniversary, James helps Sirius pick out a suit.

Of course, when Sirius finally finds it time to propose, James is the one that gets Remus’ ring size for him.

And of fucking course, at their wedding James gives his best man speech with a smile plastered across his face, pretending not to remember all of the times Sirius held him down on the mattress Remus and Sirius now sleep on. He pretends not to remember the time Sirius fell into a frenzy of totally-sober-but-drunken-honesty and told James he’d marry him some day. Trying not to remember when Sirius took the silver ring off of his hand and put it on James’ ring finger. Trying not to remember all of the missed opportunities James had to let his touch linger a little longer. All of the windows he made himself close because he believed Sirius couldn’t possibly feel that way about him. Trying not to remember when Sirius loved him in a way he knew was different, but wouldn’t let himself believe were. Remembering all of the times Sirius loved him but not like that. Remembering all of the times Sirius held James in a headlock and shoved his side like they were just mates. Like they hadn’t just kissed or slept together or looked into each others eyes with such rigor and raw, unbridled love that it sent chills down James’ spine.

Remembering Sirius and Remus’ ten year anniversary party where Sirius got a little too drunk and when, secluded from guests, he looked to James, his expression almost deathly sober, and told him that he “should’ve married you.” And that he “Really means it, James.” And how when Sirius never brought it up again, James didn’t either.

Remembering how James became a father. Remembering how when Sirius became “uncle padfoot” James had to bite down before telling his son that “you know, that was almost your father.” Remembering how, the day lily tossed her wedding ring into the sea when they were out at the beach she had seen the way James looked at Sirius in the sand, and was faced with the gut-wrenching truth she’d denied for the length of her seven year marriage to this man.

Remembering how when James died, Sirius’ soul died less than twenty-four hours after. Remembering how after Sirius died, Remus found letters in his nightstand drawer addressed to but never sent to James. Remembering how he couldn’t stop himself from reading them, and remembering how many times the word “love” and “regret” showed up within the writing.

Remembering how Remus had foolishly made sure James and Sirius were buried beside each other, no matter how expensive and difficult it was to pull off, because, they were best friends, right? Because it was what they both had requested in their will.

Remembering how his face fell when he’d messed up the booking and accidentally scheduled Sirius’ funeral for the same day of James’ burial twelve years prior.

Remembering how foolish he felt when he realized he’d spent thirty years with a man who never loved him. Not like that. Not the way he loved his best friend from wizarding school.

Remembering how, when it was his time to die, the only question he could think to ask was “was it supposed to be them?”

Remembering how it was them. How it always was. Remembering how obvious it was that James and Sirius were meant to last. How at some point of time, the universe messed up. Ruined things. Set Sirius up with the wrong man. Remembered how he carried that guilt and disgust with himself well into the afterlife.

Remembering how when Sirius was on the precipice of life and death, and he wouldn’t hold Remus’ hand. Remembering how he’d look up to the sky and mouth “I’m ready”

Remembering how he was never trying to reassure Remus, no, he was talking to James.

Remembering how important the sun was to the stars. And how the moon was never meant to be apart of their solar system at all.

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

This Is Kinda Nice Too (4)

So it's been a while since I posted for this prompt, but I was looking through some unfinished fics and stumbled across this. Hoping to now move this fic into my 'finished' folder, so here we are. Previous parts are linked below for context but can be read as a stand alone.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

~*~

“I gotta ask a favour,” says Melissa as she sits in her usual seat at she and Barb’s table.  “Dessert.  I’m just not gonna have time.” 

Barb’s eyebrows raise as the red head starts to reel off all of the prep she needs to do for your dinner date.  “Girl, you have got to calm down.  The girl isn’t expecting a five star banquet.  She’s going to be giddy over the fact she’s spending time with you, not nitpicking at your food.”

Melissa rolls her eyes.  “That was all fun in the forest but this is real.  I just wanna do this right.”

“You’re not going to be able to relax and enjoy yourself if all you’re worrying about is the food,” points out the kindergarten teacher. 

“I’m not worrying about the food!” exclaims the red head.  “Just the lack of time to make the food…and the dessert.”

With a sigh, Barb finally concedes.  “Fine, I’ll make dessert, but you owe me!”

*

Friday after school finds Melissa in the doorway to your classroom.  “Hey.  Just wanted to check you’re still good for tomorrow?”

“Seven o’clock sharp,” you grin.  “I can’t wait.  Is there anything I can bring?”

You watch as she pushes off the doorframe, sauntering up to you and effectively stealing your breath in the process. 

“How about you and that cute smile?” she smirks, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, and acting far braver than she feels. 

“I can do that,” you say quietly, your grin only widening. 

*

Standing outside Melissa’s door, you take a deep breath, loosening your death grip on the flowers you brought.  You know she had said you didn’t need to bring anything, but you couldn’t just turn up empty handed.  And if you’d also picked up a little box of the chocolates you knew Melissa liked, well, you were only being polite. 

Knocking on the now familiar door, you feel your heart rate increase at the sound of approaching footsteps from within.  As the door is opened to reveal the red head, you can’t help but let your eyes wander over her curves.  “You look amazing,” you tell her as she steps back to allow you in.  “Even more than usual.”

Her cheeks pink in a blush as you hold out the flowers to her, smiling as she shyly takes them.

“I told you you didn’t have to bring anything.”

“I was hardly going to turn up empty handed to our first date,” you smile. 

She ducks her head.  “I’m gonna go fix these, you know where the coats go.”  Leaving you to hang up your bag and coat, she retreats to the kitchen, trying to calm her nerves as she opens up the flowers and sets them in a vase.  She looks up as you enter the kitchen.  “You scrub up pretty well yourself.”

“Had a good reason to put in some effort,” you reply, putting the chocolates you had brought down by the vase of flowers. 

She frowns.

“Just in case my sweet smile wasn’t quite cutting it,” you shrug.

“These are my favourites,” she says quietly as she looks more closely at the box.  Not some dollar store number or some last-minute purchase from the corner store. 

“Well I wasn’t going to bring you ones you don’t like.”

She closes the space between you, her fingers skimming down your arms before pulling you into a hug.  “Thank you.”  She pulls back, blinking to try and hide the tears that have gathered in your eyes at how thoughtful you’ve been.  “Now, you go sit and I will get things plated up.”

*

Dinner is better than you could have hoped.  The table is set with candles, casting the room in a romantic light and making Melissa’s hair glow.  It reminds you of that first night by the fire, when things started to shift between the two of you.  The conversation and laughter flows between you, and you realise although you’ve had a crush on her forever, you couldn’t have done this all those months ago.  The friendship that’s grown between the two of you has allowed you to be you with her.

Her eyes tear up as you tell her as much.  “It’s been a two way street, kid.  You’ve never made me feel like I had to be anyone else with you, like who I was wasn’t enough,” she admits feeling brave in the face of your admission.  “There are…things I usually hide when I meet people.  Things you learned and you didn’t pity me, think less of me.”

“Why would I think any less of you for anything I’ve learned about you?” you frown.  “You’re amazing.  And I mean that.  You are…so strong and capable and just…amazing,” you finish.  “And I should say beautiful too.” 

Cheeks once again flushed from more than just the heat, she stands from the table, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as she passes your chair.  “Got room for dessert?”

You close your eyes at the brief contact, a smile on your lips.  You don’t make to follow her, giving her a few moments to herself.  “Always,” you tell her.  “You know I have a sweet tooth.”

When she returns, she places a plate down in front of you.  You frown, looking down at the plate.  You know Melissa.  You know her cooking, and this, this doesn’t look like it.  “This doesn’t feel like a Schemmenti recipe.”  That wasn’t to say, however, it didn’t taste good.

“That’s because it’s a Barbara Howard special,” answers the red head.  “Honestly, that woman is a whizz at baking.”

“You told Barb about this?” you ask, this somehow catching you by surprise. 

“Sweetie, Barb has had to put up with me having a breakdown over the menu, my timings, my prep, the whole nine yards the whole week,” laughs Melissa.

“I didn’t realise,” you breathe, feeling guilty at the fact you’d somehow missed her semi-permanent state of panic.  “Sorry!  I wanted this to be fun for you too.”

She smiles sweetly at you.  “It has been.  I just…wanted to make it special.”

You put your spoon down.  “Melissa, I meant it when I said this could be pizza and beers and it would be special to me, because it’s you.  This has been great, and I feel like I’ve been treated like a queen, but you know I don’t need all this, right? I was happy sitting in the middle of the woods holding your hand.”

For what feels like the hundredth time that night, Melissa finds herself blushing.  She had been happy sitting in the middle of the woods holding your hand too.  “If you wanna date me, you gotta live with me being a little extra sometimes.”

You grin back at her across the table.  “Oh, I’m good with that.  And yes, just to be clear, I do wanna date you.  Properly.”

 Helping clear the plates after dessert you both move to the sofa to finish your wine.  The wine glasses are quickly forgotten on the table, however, as her lips find yours.  As her hands clutch you to her, you’re in heaven.  Her lips find your neck and you realise you’re done for. 

She pulls back as a whimper leaves your throat, her pupils blown as she takes you in.  You’re flushed and panting.  “I barely touched you,” she breathes in awe.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” you reply.

She smirks.  “Know what I’d like to do to you.”

This has you both blushing.  She takes your hands, linking your fingers together.  “I want this.  You.  All of it, but I don’t want to rush things.”

“Baby steps?”

“Maybe not quite that slow and innocent,” she smirks, leaning in to kiss you once more.  “Stay?” she asks, the word whispered against your lips as she rests her forehead against your own.  “I want to share an actual bed with you.”

*

Upstairs, you take turns in the bathroom.  You find yourself smiling at your reflection in the mirror as you brush your teeth.  The borrowed oversized sleep shirt you wear is soft and worn.  You’ve stayed over at Melissa’s house before, but in the guest room in your own nightwear.  This is a whole new level of intimacy.

Turning the light off as you leave the bathroom, you find the red head already in bed.  Slipping beneath the covers, there’s a polite distance between the two of you as you regard each other in the dim streetlight filtering through the gap in the curtains.  Finally, Melissa breaks the silence with a sigh and a rolling of her eyes.  She shuffles across the mattress until she can curl into your side, much as she did that night in the woods. 

“Tell anyone I’m a koala and I’ll have to kill you,” she mumbles against your chest.

You can’t help but laugh at the half-hearted threat.  “Worth it.”

She leans up and glares at you in the dim light. 

In return, you push yourself up to press a kiss to her lips.  “Fine, my lips are sealed so long as you promise to keep putting yours on them.”

“Deal,” she smiles, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips before settling back against your chest. 

*

The next morning you’re woken by Melissa’s message tone.  She grumbles incoherently as she blindly reaches for the device on her bedside table.  Locating the offending item, she brings it close to her face where she can see it.  “Barb,” she informs you, turning the phone so you can read the screen.

Still sleepy and warm, even this small action makes you smile.  That she’s comfortable enough to let you read the message from her friend.  Barb is asking how the night went.  “I’d say it went pretty well.”  So you got to wake up with Melissa at an actual bed, but it appeared Barb was still to be your alarm.

Melissa’s lips curl up in a smile.  “Yeah, it did.”  She taps the screen of her phone, holding it above the two of you and taking a picture.  Bringing her phone back down, you both look at the screen, at how happy you both look, curled up together.  “You okay if I send this?”

“Long as you are,” you reply, pressing a kiss to the top of her head where she rests against your shoulder.  Everything is covered and you’re both in PJ’s.  It’s almost tasteful. 

The reply that comes back is quick.  Melissa laughs at the almost expected prudish reply.  She types out a reply, telling Barb to look at the picture again and take her mind out of the gutter.  A few moments later, her phone chimes again.

This time, she smirks, turning the phone to allow you to see it more easily.  You read the typed words, saying you both look very happy and she hopes you enjoy dessert.  You frown at the tense.  Barb is usually very particular in what she says.  “Is she?”

“Implying what you think she is?” laughs the red head.  “I think she might be.”  She tosses her phone back on the bedside table, shifting until she can look up at you, her chin resting on your shoulder.  “Morning.”

“Morning,” you smile.

“You know,” she drawls.  “This.  Waking up with you in an actual bed.  This is kinda nice too.”

“Careful,” you warn, taking in her face in the early morning light, her curls spilling messily over her shoulders.  “A girl could get used to it.”

A soft smile tugs at her lips.  “Maybe she should?”

[coolbeanzeaglbones]

Aquabats one shot I thought about while watching a training video at my work because *cough cough* I got the job!

Ricky had a ten dollar bill in his hand, walking into the Weis Markets to get something. What something? Why some cough medicine because everyone else was sick.

Yeah, it was good to get it out of the way before tour, but it was almost so bad that they nearly had to push back the schedule because everyone was so sick.

Jimmy and Ricky were the only ones who were unaffected by whatever was going through the tram. Everyone was so out of it and they had a little bit of cough syrup left, which eaglebones had taken before realizing it was expired. 

Ricky was looking through the aisle, “Hmm.” He grabbed one off the shelf and went to a register. One thing about Ricky, he was sixteen, therefore a minor, therefore when the cashier rang up his order and asked for ID, Ricky handed her his license and she scanned it.

The register beeped, “Sorry, you’re not old enough to buy this, do you have a parent or something with you?” She asked in a bitchy tone of voice. 

Ricky gave an awkward side smile, “Uh, hang on.” The cashier waited because it was nighttime and there wasn’t that many people there who wanted to go to a person.

Ricky dialed Jimmy’s number on video call, “Hey Ricky.” Jimmy greeted, “Jimmy, do you have an ID?” Ricky asked, looking back at the cashier, “No, I’m a robot, I don’t have an ID. I can put the commander on the phone and he can show his ID.” Jimmy put his phone down as he walked over to the commander, “Hey, Ricky needs you to show your ID.” The commander looked at Jimmy blearily, “Why?” He groaned, sitting up straighter on the couch, still wrapped in his blankets, “Cuz you need ID to buy cough syrup.” Ricky said, exasperated. 

The commander groaned again, but grabbed his wallet off the table and rifled through the random coupons and receipts until he found his drivers license, “Here ya go.” He held it up to the camera of the phone, “That’s ID.” He said.

Ricky showed it to the cashier, who was already shaking her head, “No, I need a physical form of ID.” She said, frowning and clearly annoyed.

Ricky rolled his eyes, “Fuuuuckkk.” He elongated the words in exasperation.

“Language.” The commander said, “and it’s fine, um,” he looked around, “Ah, come back to the car, eaglebones has an ID, just bring him with you.”

“Isn’t he sleeping?” Ricky questioned. The commander kicked out, “Not anymore.” He said. Ricky heard a weak “ow” from off camera, “Alright. Bye.” He hung up the phone and looked back at the cashier, “I will be right back, okay?” The cashier nodded and Ricky left outside to the battletram.

Everyone was hanging out in the living room, as everyone does when they’re sick, just all in the living room. Bones was asleep again, “I guess that being expired made sleep aid a bit more potent than usual.” Ricky said, poking eaglebones to wake him up, “Nah, he’s a lightweight, I don’t think we did the dosage right.” Jimmy said. Ricky was still trying to wake bones into some semblance of consciousness, “Hey, I need you to come in the store with me so I can get the cough medicine. I need your ID.” 

Eaglebones was out of it, so he was just so confused, so Ricky just put his hand out to help him up. As soon as he was up, he couldn’t even stand he was so sick, “I’ll put you on my back, just hold on.” He grabbed Bones’ license out of his wallet and pulled him onto his back, “I’m starting to get real pissed off at this point.” Ricky said, letting his Latino side slip into Spanish. 

This must’ve looked so weird for a teenager to be having a pale, blanket wrapped, pajama clad, semiconscious adult on his back. Ricky walked back up to the still empty cash register line, “There’s a form of ID.” Ricky said, trying to hide his pissed off-ness. Bones was conscious enough to drop his license onto the metal plate by the register.

The lady scanned it and it went through, “Your total will be $7.56, how will you be paying sir?” She directed that at eaglebones as she handed him his license back, “Ricky just give her the ten dollar bill so we can leave.” His voice was cracky before coughing into his sleeve. Ricky nodded to the lady, “We’re paying in cash.”

Ricky paid the lady and got his change, “Have a nice night.” Ricky said with a smile, hiking eaglebones further up his back so he wouldn’t fall. The lady gave the most stank face ever, “Yeah whatever.” 

Back on the battletram, Ricky carefully put the now sleeping Bones back on the couch and covered him up with a blanket before grabbing his handigel and disinfecting his hands, “Guys, can we just make sure we have medicine and stuff stocked up until I turn eighteen? I don’t wanna do that again, eaglebones is surprisingly uncomfortable to wear cuz of the random hard bone sticking out and he drools in his sleep.” 

Jimmy nodded, “Yeah, I guess.” He said before saying, “You’re a good friend, you completed the task and that shows a lot about your teamwork. Proud of you.” He patted Ricky on the shoulder before leaving to his lab.

That for some reason made Ricky very happy and he sat down against the couch and put on a show to watch while keeping his sleeping friends company. 

Yes, he was a good friend. 

[the-most-humble-blog]

🧨 “You’re Crying About Patriarchy While Taylor Swift Owns the Earth: A Lecture for the Delusionally Privileged”

Also known as: “No, You’re Not Oppressed. You’re Just Loud, Wrong, and Wearing a Pantsuit Like a Participation Trophy.”

Imagine, for a second, the cognitive dissonance:

You’re a woman in the most pro-female society ever created in human history. You’ve got civil rights, voting rights, representation quotas, entire university departments dedicated to your feelings, Beyoncé playing stadiums, Taylor Swift creating planetary orbit shifts, and every streaming platform kissing your highlighter-covered diary.

And you still manage to say:

“The patriarchy is destroying us.”

👑 Sis, you’re not oppressed. You’re inconvenienced. And there’s a difference.

☕ Let’s Talk Real Privilege (The Kind You Pretend Doesn’t Exist)

You want to know what real privilege is?

It’s being able to walk up to a man you don’t know — in public — and scream in his face like he personally rebooted The Handmaid’s Tale while holding a pumpkin spice latte in your left hand and a thousand-dollar phone in your right.

It’s being able to call him an ‘incel’ in front of his wife and kid — and then expect every man nearby to jump in and defend you. Even though you started the fight.

Even though you crossed the line. Even though you insulted him first. Because hey — you’re a woman. That means you’re always the victim, right?

💥 Let Me Ask You This (Brace Yourself):

What if every man just stopped?

Stopped holding the door. Stopped checking your tire pressure. Stopped instinctively scanning a room for threats when they’re walking next to you. Stopped pretending like your screams of “men are predators!” didn’t hit them like knives in the ribs.

What if every man — not even all, just most — simply decided your safety isn’t worth their blood anymore?

What would you do?

❌ “Other men will stop them!” No they won’t. You called those men “incels” too. You mocked their height. You said “small dick energy” like it was a racial slur.

You alienated the protectors and labeled the rest as threats. Now you want a favor?

📜 Modern Women Want Protection, Without Deference

You say “I want a man who will protect me.”

But you:

Hang out with exes who still “check in”

Go on “girls’ trips” to clubs packed with dudes

Laugh at your boyfriend when he sets boundaries

Post thirst traps with captions like “men ain’t shit”

Treat every masculine instinct like a red flag

Let’s make it plain:

You want the benefits of masculinity, without any of the respect it requires.

That’s not empowerment. That’s entitlement with Cheeto dust in it's cleavage.

🏆 “But What About Kamala?”

You mean the woman who giggles like a middle schooler during foreign policy briefings, whose own party didn’t want her, who bypassed the presidency like it was her turn at the DMV?

The one who couldn’t decide if she was Indian, Black, or just vaginally qualified?

She didn't run a campaign. She ran a diversity hire scavenger hunt.

She didn’t win a primary. She got thrown onto a ticket like a complimentary mint.

And now? She’s VP. Because we’re in a time where a uterus with Wi-Fi and a pantsuit gets automatic credibility — and if you question it, you’re a “misogynist.”

🐻 “I’d Rather Be With a Bear Than a Man!”

That viral TikTok quote, remember? Women saying they’d rather be with a grizzly bear in the woods than near a man?

Let me translate:

“I’d rather be with a 1,500-pound apex predator with claws that can disembowel me in 0.3 seconds, than share oxygen with Tom from HR.”

Why?

Because modern feminism has made you terrified of male presence, and addicted to male protection. You want safety from men — provided by other men — while calling them creeps, predators, oppressors, rapists, and “fragile little boys.”

Make it make sense.

🪖 Meanwhile, Let’s Talk About Patriotism

Every man you slander online?

He lives in a country where, by 18, he can be drafted. Where he’s expected to fight, bleed, and die to protect:

Your freedom to tweet

Your OnlyFans

Your Buzzfeed listicle

Your right to scream “Kill All Men” in public

You think that’s a fair trade?

He dies. You virtue signal in his blood.

🤐 You Think It’s All Hypothetical. It's Not.

You’re so used to freedom, you don’t recognize danger. Let me name a few places:

Iran

Afghanistan

Somalia

North Korea

Pakistan

Yemen

Those are countries where real patriarchy lives. Where women:

Can’t leave the house without permission

Get whipped for showing hair

Get stoned to death for suspected adultery

Are told by law they’re worth half a man in court

And yet, you’re here… with your Wi-Fi and your brunch and your “male gaze trauma” telling the world you’re “barely surviving under the patriarchy.”

Sis. You’re not surviving. You’re thriving on the bones of men you can’t stand.

📉 You Want Rights. But You Forgot Reciprocity.

Here’s the unspoken truth:

The only reason women get protection in modern society is because men agree to give it.

Not because of laws. Not because of “equity.” But because millions of men still choose to shield women — even ones who hate them.

You don’t need therapy. You need a history book and a f***ing thank you note. Because without “toxic men,” you'd be washing goats in a river while praying you don’t get sold for five goats and a discount on diesel.

🔮 TL;DR

Feminism in the West is no longer fighting oppression. It’s fighting reality.

You’re not being held down by men. You’re standing on their shoulders and spitting in their eyes.

The only thing keeping you safe is the honor of men you don’t respect.

If they ever decide to stop protecting you? The bear you said you’d rather be with… will be the least of your problems.

A WAKE UP CALL TO ACTION

🔁 Reblog if you’re done pretending that screaming at men in public = bravery 🧠 Share this if you’ve been falsely accused of being “toxic” for setting boundaries 🫵 Send this to a friend who still thinks “patriarchy” is what’s holding her back — instead of her TikTok algorithm and Amazon cart 🛑 Comment if you’ve ever lost a relationship because you had the audacity to say:

“I’m not dying for someone who doesn’t even like men.”

⚖️ LEGAL DISCLAIMER (Read it Slow, Becky):

This post is satire, commentary, truth, humor, rage therapy, and performance art. It is protected under the U.S. Constitution, universal common sense, and the blood of better men who died so you could post thirst traps in peace. If you’re offended — good. That means it wasn’t written for you. This isn’t hate speech. This is perspective therapy with a body count. Stay safe. Or don’t. It’s a free country — thanks to patriarchy.

[ohfallingdisco]

Playing with an incorrect quotes generator and these were so in character

Will: Everytime I hear someone talking about updog, I’m torn between not wanting to fall for it and wanting to help them complete their joke.  Mike: Okay, but what is updog?  El: Updog is a long sausage in a bun, often served with ketchup, mustard, onions, and/or relish.  Dustin: No, that’s a hot dog. An updog is when a new version or patch of an application is released.  Lucas: No, that's an update. You’re thinking of the fourth largest city in Sweden.  Max: No, that’s Uppsala, updog is the giant spider in Harry Potter.  Will: That’s Aragog. Updog is a symbol conventionally used for an arbitrarily small number in analysis proofs.  Dustin: You’re thinking of epsilon. Updog is an upward-moving air current.  El: No, that’s an updraft. An updog is the modern version of a henway.  Mike: What’s a henway??  Will: Oh, about five pounds.

Mike, banging on the door: Argyle! Open up! Argyle: Well, it all started when I was a kid... Will: No, he meant- Jonathan: Let him finish.

Mike: How did none of you hear what I just said?  Lucas: I’ve been zoned out for the past two and a half hours.  Will: I got distracted about halfway through.  Dustin: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

Max: Hey Mike can I get a sip of your water? Mike: It's not water. Max: Vodka, I like your style! Mike: It's vinegar. Max: Wh-Wha- Mike: It's vinegar, COWARD.

Will: *Posts a super low-quality image to the group chat*  Mike: If I had a dollar for every pixel in this image, I’d have 15 cents  Will: If I had a dollar for every ounce of rage I felt in my body after I read this text, I would have enough money to buy a cannon to fire at you  El: Actually I did the math, Mike would have $225, not $0.15.  Mike: I’m right here....  Dustin: If I had a dollar I would buy a can of soda :)  Will: while you’re there could you buy me an apply juice please?  Dustin: Sorry I only have a dollar  Will: :(  El: Hey I just realized my friend is right, Mike would have $22,500 because it's a dollar for every pixel, not a cent  Dustin: If I had $22,500 I would buy a can of soda and an apply juice  El: You can buy anything you want with $22,500  Lucas: Yeah and they want soda and apply juice  El: Apply juice to what  Max: Directly to the forehead  Mike: Great chat everyone

Max: Is stabbing someone immoral?  El: Not if they consent to it.  Lucas: Depends who you’re stabbing.  Dustin: YES?!?

Lucas: Isn’t it weird that we pay money to see other people?  Mike: Plane tickets?  Will: Concert tickets?  Dustin: Prostitution?  Lucas, holding his broken frames: Glasses.

Mike: What did you guys get in the yearbook? Will: 'Prettiest Smile' Lucas: 'Nicest Personality' Dustin: 'Most likely to start a bar fight' Max: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

Argyle: You lying, cheating, piece of shit! Jonathan: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD Argyle: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING WLL WITH ME Mike, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

El: HELP! I TOLD JONATHAN I’D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN’T COOK!  Will, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?

Murray: Dammit, Hopper! Hopper: What?! It wasn’t me! Murray: Sorry, force of habit. Dammit, Joyce! Joyce: Not me either. Murray: Oh...Then who set the house on fire? Alexei: *whistles*

[appetite4savage]

Hot Blooded (Joe Elliott)

-

Request: meeting Joe backstage turns into a romance

-

Y/N’s POV

When I decided to buy myself tickets to meet Def Leppard, I didn’t think about the part where I’d actually have to… speak to them.

My hands are clammy. My pulse is racing. I feel like I could make one wrong move and fall to pieces. The last thing I need to do is embarrass myself in front of them.

I turn around to go back to my seat, but I bump into someone.

“Oh, sorry.” I collect myself and look up. It’s Joe Elliott.

He flashes his million dollar smile at me. “No problem, love.”

This can’t be real life. This isn’t happening.

“Where are you headed?” He asks.

“I, uh. Um.” I try to come up with words but my brain isn’t working properly.

He looks down at the lanyard around my neck. “Oh, I see. You’re VIP. You can just follow me if you’d like.”

I nod and he walks beside me down the hallway. His hand is on my back. I’m sure he can feel my heart nearly leaping out of my chest.

“Here we are.” He leads me into a large room. The rest of the band is there, along with the other VIPs.

“Who do we have here?” Sav smiles at me from his spot on the couch. He has his arm around a tall blonde.

“I’m Y/N.” I say shyly, and everyone else introduces themselves.

I can feel someone looking at me. I look over to see Joe’s green eyes blazing into my skin.

-

After a while of chatting with everyone, Joe pulls me to the side.

“I’m sorry if this sounds a bit forward, but do you want to go to my dressing room? It’s getting a bit crowded in here.” He asks at a lower volume so everyone can’t hear.

“Sure.” I nod, and we sneak out to his dressing room.

His dressing room is small, but complete with a vanity, leather couch and tv.

“Have a seat.” He motions to the couch.

I nervously shift to the edge and sit down with him following behind me. I try leave a bit of space between us.

“You know, I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.” He laughs. “I’m kidding. I do want to know more about you, though.” He shifts to face me.

“There’s not much to tell you, really. I’m an only child, moved here when I turned 18.”

He seems genuinely interested in what I’m saying. “So you’re a fan of the band, obviously. How’d you get into us?”

“When I first moved here, I caught your gig at one of the local clubs. I only knew a song or two but from that moment I was hooked.” I can feel a blush from embarrassment rising to my cheeks and I lower my head to let my hair fall to my face.

“Hey, no shame in that.” He lifts my head with his finger, brushing my hair out of my face. “Our club playing days were great times.” He pauses, leaning closer to my face.

Our lips were just about to connect when a loud voice came from the other side of the door.

“Elliott! Show time!”

He closes his eyes, shaking his head. “Damn it.”

I start to get up, but he grabs me by the arm. “So I’ll see you after the show, yeah?”

Nervously, I nod. “Sure.”

-

During the whole show I felt like it was just Joe and I in the room. He’d wink at me quickly, showing off his best moves.

The show ended just as quickly as our moment was interrupted before.

I walked out of the venue, waiting for Joe to come out. Minutes felt like years until finally a familiar head of blonde hair came outside. I let out a sigh of relief.

“I thought you forgot about me.”

He chuckles, “What kind of dog do you take me for?” He holds out his hand for me to grab, leading me down the street only illuminated by streetlights.

“A handsome one, unfortunately.”

We walk in an old diner as it is the only thing open at this hour and sit down at a booth in the corner.

After a couple hours, everyone leaves but us.

“It’s too quiet in here.” He announces, headed to a jukebox on the other side of the room. A few minutes later, music plays through the speakers.

“Well, I'm hot blooded

Check it and see

I got a fever of a hundred and three

Come on, baby, do you do more than dance?

I'm hot blooded, I'm hot blooded…”

He walks back over to the table, holding out his hand to me and smirking. “Dance with me.”

“Joe, I have two left fe—“ Before I finish, he pulls me out of the booth and spins me around.

“Now you move so fine

Let me lay it on the line

I wanna know

What you're doin' after the show?”

“Did you pick this on purpose?” I laugh at the irony of the lyrics considering how we met.

He doesn’t answer, just keeps moving and singing along to the music.

“Tell me, are you hot, mama?

You sure look that way to me….”

When the song ends, we collapse into each other’s arms, giggling.

The waitress walks over and smiles, “Okay, lovebirds. Diner closes in ten minutes.”

We nod and pay for our food before walking out the door. What a night.

[tellyreviews]

Anupama 7th April 2025 Written Update: Chaos pile up

Anupama 7th April 2025 Written Update: Chaos pile up. Today’s episode of Anupamaa kicks off with Vasundhara in full boss mode, ordering the staff to load up the car and reminding Rahi to call the Shahs on time—because if she doesn’t micromanage every breath, will the world even spin? Then she notices that one of Rahi’s earrings is missing. Drama alert. Rahi looks like she lost her life savings, not a stud. Enter Mohit, who casually drops the “oh hey, found this in the corridor” line like he’s not being shady. They lock eyes like they're hiding five seasons of secrets. Cut to the Shah household—Paritosh is spiraling over finances, blaming Raghav for their sinking business. Because accountability? Nah, let’s just pin it on someone else. Kinjal, queen of holding this household together with invisible duct tape, tells him to chill—Anupama has got this. Then little Pari walks in like a plot twist and says she wants to study fashion in Canada. Paritosh is like, “Now is not the time to dream in dollars,” but Kinjal gives full Bollywood mom energy and promises to make it happen. Paritosh, naturally, isn’t thrilled she made a big promise without even blinking in his direction. Kinjal? Unbothered. She will manage. Meanwhile, Gautam is out here breaking bones. He thrashes Tripathi and gets the money back like a proper desi action hero. The Kotharis and Shahs gather to celebrate Ram Navami, but the real fireworks are brewing elsewhere. Rahi checks in on Mohit, and then things escalate. Tripathi summons Mohit and demands he bring money to get his son out of jail. No money? Then Tripathi will spill tea that could end Mohit. Unluckily for him, Rahi and Prem have been recording the entire villain monologue like it’s a true crime podcast. They confront Mohit and drag Anupama to the police station. The Kotharis start wondering where Rahi and Prem have gone—because heaven forbid two adults move without a tracker. At the station, the truth bombs drop. Prem confronts Mohit, and the police say the evidence is enough to lock him up. Mohit finally cracks and reveals that his life was ruined not by Prem directly, but because of Aryan, who had a connection to Khyati. Yup, plot twist incoming. Khyati’s name drops like thunder. Elsewhere, Pakhi is playing detective. She thinks Ishani is two-timing Raja and decides she must expose her. Because what else are you supposed to do during a full-blown family meltdown? Get popcorn? Nah—spy. Back at the police station, Prem is heartbroken and furious at Khyati. He feels betrayed and says she’s the reason both he and Prarthana suffered. Rahi, being the voice of reason, says they’ll confront Khyati but calmly—unlike literally everyone else in this show. When they return, the Kotharis confront Rahi and Prem for vanishing like teenagers sneaking out of the house. Prem hints that Mohit is behind everything. Khyati, trying to save face, says she had her doubts about Mohit but didn’t look into it. Prem is like, “Why not?!?” and honestly, valid question. Rahi steps in and stops him before he goes full rage mode. Khyati, now offended, flips it back—why is she being interrogated instead of Mohit? That leads to another classic meltdown—Prem lashes out at Rahi, but she pulls him back from his emotional cliff and asks him to trust her. Sweet moment. Meanwhile, Anupama, ever the emotional sponge, worries about everyone’s mental state. Then comes Raghav, who’s helping Anupama with her books. But when she asks him if he believes his wife is still alive and was framed, he snaps like someone poked an old wound. The man clearly has layers and trauma bottled up tighter than a pressure cooker. Anupama 7th April 2025 Written Update Precap: Rahi and Anupama try to help Khyati reconnect with Aryan (who is also Mohit, because of course he is). Aryan wants none of it. Anupama urges him to at least listen to Khyati before cutting her off. Drama guaranteed. Read the full article

[abboudlawfirm-omaha]

What Is the Purpose of a Claim?

If you’ve ever been in a car accident, slipped on an unmarked wet floor, or gotten hurt at work, you’ve probably heard the word “claim” thrown around a lot. But what does it really mean? And more importantly, why does it matter?

A claim is more than just paperwork—it’s your way of saying, “Hey, I got hurt, and it wasn’t my fault.” It’s the first step toward getting the compensation you need for medical bills, lost wages, and everything else that comes with an injury. Let’s break it down.

A Claim Is Your Right to Seek Compensation

When someone else's negligence causes you harm, you're not just left to deal with the consequences on your own. A claim is your formal request for compensation. It could be against an insurance company, an employer, or even an at-fault driver.

Think of it this way: If someone bumps into you and spills your coffee, you’d expect them to at least apologize—maybe even buy you another cup. Now, apply that logic to something bigger, like a car crash or a workplace injury. A claim is your way of holding the responsible party accountable.

Common types of claims include:

Personal injury claims – For accidents like car crashes, slip-and-falls, or dog bites.

Workers' compensation claims – If you get hurt on the job.

Wrongful death claims – When a loved one passes away due to someone else’s negligence.

Insurance claims – Like when an uninsured driver hits you and you need your policy to step in.

No matter what type of claim you’re dealing with, the goal is the same: getting you the money you need to cover the damages.

It Helps You Recover Financially

Accidents are expensive. Hospital bills stack up fast, and if you’re unable to work, you’re losing income on top of everything else. That’s where a claim comes in—it ensures you don’t bear the financial burden of someone else’s mistake.

Here’s what compensation usually covers:

Medical expenses – Doctor visits, surgeries, rehab, medication, therapy.

Lost wages – If you have to take time off work (or can’t return at all).

Pain and suffering – For the physical and emotional toll of your injury.

Property damage – If your car, bike, or belongings were damaged in the incident.

Without a claim, you could be stuck paying for everything out of pocket. And let’s be real—most people don’t have thousands of dollars sitting around for unexpected medical bills.

A Claim Holds the Responsible Party Accountable

Filing a claim isn’t just about money—it’s about fairness. If someone else’s negligence caused your injury, they should be held responsible.

Think about a drunk driver causing a crash. If nobody files a claim or lawsuit, they might walk away without any consequences. But when you take legal action, you’re not just standing up for yourself—you’re helping prevent similar accidents in the future.

This applies to businesses, too. If a grocery store ignores a spill and you slip, making a claim forces them to fix the problem so others don’t get hurt.

It Helps You Access Medical Treatment

Did you know that filing a claim can actually help you get medical care faster? In some cases, doctors and hospitals will work with personal injury claimants on a “medical lien” basis. That means they treat you now and get paid later—after your case settles.

Workers’ compensation claims work the same way. If you’re hurt on the job, your employer’s insurance should cover your treatment. But without a claim, you might struggle to get the care you need.

So even if you’re not sure about seeking legal action, filing a claim can be the key to getting proper medical treatment without upfront costs.

A Claim Protects You from Insurance Companies’ Tricks

Insurance companies aren’t in the business of paying out large settlements. Their goal? To save money. That’s why they often try to downplay injuries, shift blame, or offer quick (but low) settlements.

When you file a claim the right way—especially with legal guidance—you protect yourself from these tactics. Instead of accepting a lowball offer, you can negotiate for what you truly deserve.

Common insurance tricks to watch out for:

Quick settlement offers – They hope you’ll take less money before realizing how serious your injuries are.

Blaming you for the accident – Even when it’s not your fault.

Delaying payments – To wear you down so you accept less.

Asking for recorded statements – To twist your words against you.

A properly filed claim gives you leverage. It puts you in a position to push back against unfair offers and fight for the full compensation you need.

What Happens If You Don’t File a Claim?

Let’s say you’re injured but decide not to file a claim. What’s the worst that could happen? Well, a few things:

You pay for everything yourself – Even though the accident wasn’t your fault.

You miss the deadline – Most claims have a statute of limitations (often just a couple of years). If you wait too long, you lose your right to compensation.

The responsible party walks away – Without any accountability.

Your injuries worsen – Without compensation, you may not get the treatment you need, which can make recovery even harder.

That’s why even if you’re unsure, it’s better to at least start the process. You can always decide later whether to accept a settlement or take further action.

When Should You File a Claim?

Timing is everything. The sooner you file a claim, the stronger your case. Evidence is fresh, witnesses remember details better, and you avoid missing deadlines.

Here’s when you should act:

Immediately after an accident – If you’re injured, seek medical help first, but don’t wait too long to report the incident.

As soon as you realize you’re hurt – Some injuries (like whiplash) don’t show symptoms right away.

Before speaking to insurance adjusters – If possible, talk to a lawyer first to avoid saying something that could hurt your case.

If you’re dealing with a workplace injury, notify your employer ASAP. In workers’ comp cases, waiting too long to report your injury can result in a denied claim.

Do You Need a Lawyer to File a Claim?

Not always—but it helps. Insurance companies have teams of lawyers working to pay you as little as possible. Having your own legal representation levels the playing field.

A lawyer can:

Handle the paperwork – So you don’t get overwhelmed with legal jargon.

Negotiate with insurance companies – To get you a fair settlement.

Gather evidence – Like medical records, witness statements, and accident reports.

Take your case to court if needed – If insurance refuses to pay what’s fair.

For smaller claims, you might be able to handle it yourself. But if you have serious injuries, lost wages, or ongoing medical needs, getting legal help is a smart move.

Final Thoughts

A claim isn’t just about filling out forms—it’s about protecting yourself, your finances, and your future. Whether you were in a car accident, hurt on the job, or injured because of someone else’s negligence, filing a claim gives you the chance to recover and move forward.

If you’re unsure about your next steps, don’t wait. The longer you delay, the harder it can be to get the compensation you deserve. Take action, protect your rights, and get the help you need.

[capitalism-is-a-psychopathy]

Corporate Altruism: The Greatest Myth

Once upon a time, corporate mandates were all about the public good. Or so they say.

The Noble Intentions

Ah, the good old days when companies were the knights in shining armor, riding on their white horses to save the world. They promised to serve the public, uplift communities, and make the world a better place. They were the heroes we didn’t deserve but desperately needed. Or at least, that’s what the fairy tales told us.

The Shareholder Shift

Fast forward to today, and the plot has thickened. The once noble knights have traded their armor for suits and ties, and their white horses for luxury cars. Now, the only thing they seem to be saving is their bottom line. Shareholders are the new kings, and the public good? Well, that’s just a quaint notion from a bygone era.

Evidence of the Shift

Look around. Environmental disasters, labor exploitation, and tax evasion are just a few of the delightful gifts these corporations have bestowed upon us. But hey, as long as the shareholders are happy, right? After all, who needs clean air, fair wages, or public services when you can have record-breaking profits?

Pre-bunking the Critics

“But wait,” some might say, “corporations still donate to charities and support social causes!” Sure, they do. And I’m sure it’s purely out of the goodness of their hearts, and not at all for the tax breaks or the positive PR. Let’s not kid ourselves; these gestures are about as genuine as a three-dollar bill.

What Can We Do?

So, what are our options? We could sit back and watch the world burn, or we could demand change. Support businesses that prioritize people over profits. Hold corporations accountable for their actions. Vote with your wallet and your voice. It’s time to remind these companies that the public good isn’t just a line in their mission statement.

Conclusion: The Real Hero

In the end, the real hero of this story isn’t the corporation. It’s us, the people. We have the power to rewrite this narrative. Let’s make sure the next chapter is one where the public good isn’t just an afterthought, but the main event.

[affectiondeficitdisorder]

The Optimist's Dilemma:   How I Learned to Stop Dreaming and Block Unknown Numbers

I got one of those texts from an unknown caller that just said “Hi!” yesterday. I immediately reported it as junk and deleted it, of course, because I know it is at best an attempt to verify an active number for someone’s mailing list (no, I do not need Best Rx Without Prescription, thanks) and most likely a phishing expedition to set me up for a “pig butchering” scam. Billions of dollars are stolen each year from people who started friendly conversations with the strangers who “accidentally” texted their number. The exact amount is unknown because many victims are embarrassed to report it, and I can relate. Because there is still an optimistic spark in me, a fantasy-addict piece of my brain that for a split second looks at the text and thinks “Hey, my old lover who ghosted me has a new number and he’s reaching out! I just knew he missed me….” 

A teenager lives in my head who instantly attaches a rom-com wish-fulfillment scenario to every missed call and every handwritten envelope. I know I should strangle her to death and put her out of my misery. But I’m also fond of the sweet, naive girl.

That sweet, naive girl

I am a digital immigrant, not a digital native, and in some ways the new age has put paid to this kind of all-in-your-head romance. I mean, you do know who’s calling. It says so right on the screen. And you don’t get to fantasize that you missed that special someone’s call because you were on the phone with someone else; you see that on your screen, too. (If you have better eyesight and faster reflexes than I do, you can even pick one up and put the other on hold.) There’s no more thrill leafing through the mail, because just maybe a crush from the past has been looking for you and wrote to your old address and it got forwarded. For one thing, no one snail mails any more and, two, if someone is in fact looking for you… they already found you.

Once upon a time, I could daydream about a high school boyfriend appearing out of nowhere to sweep me off my feet. Thanks to Facebook, they’ve all appeared already… and they rarely turned out as well in real life as they did in imagination. I remember one tall skinny drink of water with a dandelion puff of auburn curls who somehow grew up to look like Wilfred Brimley’s stunt double.

Of course, the digital age has plenty of catnip for the love addict mind, and there’s an entire underground economy built to exploit it. I’ve noticed lately that romance scammers with great (stolen) pics have figured out a way to put a phony Verified badgeon their Hinge profiles. Now, I know that too good to be true isn’t true. You know that too good to be true isn’t true. But that badge gives teenage-addict-brain some ammunition, and next thing you know she’s thinking “maybe this time is different”… which is why scammers went to the trouble of hacking it. They know their target.

I don’t like being a mark. Some of the unhappiest memories of my life have been times when men played me — and men have played me, because sweet naive teenage-addict-brain is very, very gullible. “I love the ones who leave me, and I leave the ones who love me” I heard someone say the other day. And oh boy is that true for me. I would do anything to keep the guy with one foot out the door from taking the next step. Even if it was injurious to me, or people I cared about, or, according to the court documents, the State of California. 

What is a nice Jewish girl, a meek bookworm who went to Bronx High School of Science, doing in the penitentiary? Winning the love of a wannabe motorcycle outlaw with dimples, of course.

So I am very careful in our brave new digital world. I am what the military would call a hardened target. My phone screens unknown callers. I send unexpected texts to junk. I regret this sometimes, because I am an optimist by nature and kinda miss the days of getting excited about a handwritten envelope in the mail. But as the great director Billy Wilder, an Austrian Jew who fled Berlin before the war, said: “The optimists died in the gas chambers. The pessimists have pools in Beverly Hills.”