#MEANWHILE in anne arbor...

[nocturnalazure]

[fairuzfan]

The University of Michigan’s alleged frustration with local prosecutors stems from a November campus sit-in at which Ann Arbor police arrested a group of 40 protesters. The Washtenaw county prosecutor Eli Savit, a progressive prosecutor who is also Jewish, announced in May that his office would dismiss 36 cases and recommend four for diversion programs where they faced a light punishment.

That incensed U-M’s pro-Israel regents and police department because they wanted swifter, tougher charges, according to sources with knowledge of the process, who spoke with the Guardian on the condition of anonymity. They then asked Nessel to take the cases and university police sent warrant requests to her office.

Multiple legal observers said it is unprecedented for a state attorney general to take protest cases instead of local prosecutors. In September, ACLU Michigan wrote in a statement that it was “especially concerned” the state’s highest law enforcement office was deployed to issue only minor charges, such as misdemeanor trespassing, for some protesters.

[...]

U-M denied wrongdoing, and the university and regent Jordan Acker said it was “not true” that the university asked Nessel to investigate, but rather that Nessel offered to take the cases. He then said the attorney general’s unprecedented involvement in a protest case was justified. “I would say I don’t think we have seen anything like this before either, where you have a coordinated, foreign-funded student protest that is engaging in violent activity,” Acker said. (There is no evidence the encampment received any foreign funding, and students blame reports of any violence that took place when the encampment was cleared on police.)

[...]

Nessel received $25,000 from the Michigan Jewish Democratic caucus, which was founded and is partially funded by state representative Noah Arbit, an outspoken pro-Israel politician, “good friend” of Nessel and frequent critic of pro-Palestinian advocates. He recently labeled student protesters “sick cowards”.

Meanwhile, a Democratic U-M donor and school of information board member who last year faced no consequences after allegedly verbally and physically assaulting Arab American students has, along with her husband who is a university donor, given $26,000 to Nessel.

[its-not-that-weird-blog]

Between coffee and letters

Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Maybe Y/N is actyally noticed by someone...

Warnings: Nothing that I'm aware off, maybe a few grammatical mistakes, but other than that...idk

Word Count: 1.3k

The birds sang loudly and clearly that November morning. Y/N, a sweet and shy girl, woke up to the beautiful melody. She could feel the cold that had set in since the previous month in Ann Arbor, Michigan. It was Saturday, meaning she had to go to work at Poindexter Coffee, a café where many university students spent their free time.

Y/N got up and made her bed, ensuring the small room she shared with her best friend stayed neat. She gathered her belongings and headed to the bathroom to get ready. She braided her long hair into two braids, put on black leggings, a white long-sleeved sweater, and boots to keep warm in the chilly weather. Once ready, she went back to her room, grabbed her bag, and headed out.

Leaving her dorm, Y/N walked to the café, where she always felt at peace. She arrived at 8:30 a.m., greeted Ray, the owner of Poindexter, and took her place at the cash register. After a few hours into her shift, a tall guy with curly hair and eyes as blue as the sky entered the café. Y/N knew him as Luke from the classes they shared. She found him handsome and knew he was an incredibly kind guy.

“Y/N/N! Good morning. I’d like a cappuccino to go,” Luke said, flashing his characteristic playful smile.

“Sure, I’ll have it ready right away,” Y/N replied, offering a shy smile in return.

She rang him up and went to prepare his order. When she called Luke to pick up his coffee, he grabbed it and handed her a small piece of paper before leaving, flashing her another smile.

Y/N, confused, opened the small note, which read: “Next Saturday. You, me, and a picnic in the park. Are you down?”

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, almost certain her face was as red as a tomato. “This must be a dream,” she thought. She was so used to being ignored by guys. She had always been shy and kept to herself, her nose usually buried in books, dreaming of a romance like the ones she read about.

“Y/N! Are you listening, girl?” Ray’s voice snapped her out of her daze. She looked at him, startled. “It’s time for you to leave,” Ray said with a sweet smile that reminded her of her grandfather.

“Oh…right!” she replied, offering a nervous smile. “See you Monday, Ray,” she said, hurrying to the employee break room to grab her things. She took off her apron, then left the café.

To calm her racing thoughts, Y/N decided to walk to Felch Park, just a few blocks away. As she walked, she overanalyzed everything that had happened with Luke. It seemed impossible that such a nice guy would be interested in her. “What if it’s a joke?” she kept asking herself. Sitting on a bench in the park, she watched as the leaves fell from the trees, drifting freely through the air.

Meanwhile, Luke headed to Yost Stadium for hockey practice after picking up his coffee. He was one of the best players on the university team. Upon entering the stadium, he met up with his friends.

“Luke! Did you tell Y/N, or did you chicken out again?” Ethan asked.

“Well, I told her…sort of, but not directly,” Luke admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. His friends looked at him in confusion, so he explained everything.

“Now, I just have to wait for her answer,” he finished, his cheeks turning pink.

Their coach came into the locker room, calling the boys out to the ice. Before heading out, Luke quickly sent Y/N a text: “Hey, I hope I didn’t catch you off guard with the note :)” He sighed, put his phone down, and joined his team on the ice.

Y/N heard the notification, and her heart began to race. “What should I even say?” she wondered, starting to panic. This was all too new for her. “Breathe, just tell him you’d love to go.” Taking a deep breath, she unlocked her phone and replied:

“Hi! Don’t worry, it wasn’t a problem, haha. Honestly, I’d love to go out with you :)”

Now, all she had to do was wait, her heart pounding in her chest. Still sitting on the park bench, Y/N marveled at how unexpected this was. Sure, some guys had shown interest before, but no one had ever actually invited her on a date. That only happened in her daydreams.

After several minutes with no reply, Y/N decided to head back to her dorm to finish her assignments for the week and to make sure she was free—just in case the date was real—next Saturday.

Hours later, after returning to her room, Y/N’s phone chimed, sending butterflies fluttering in her stomach. The message read, “So, I’ll pick you up after your shift on Saturday ;)”

With just that message, Y/N melted, unable to wipe the sweet smile from her face.

Saturday

Luke woke up feeling more than happy, even though the sky was gray and cloudy, and the air smelled damp—suggesting rain or, worse, snow. He was nervous, but he still put on his nicest casual clothes, sprayed on some cologne, and headed to Poindexter to pick up Y/N.

On the other hand, Y/N woke up earlier than usual to dress nicely but appropriately for the weather. She was on edge, thinking, “What if he doesn’t like me in the end?” “What if he regrets asking me out?”

She shook her head, trying to clear away the bad thoughts. Once she was ready, she grabbed her bag and ran out the door, realizing she was already running late. It was 8:15 a.m., and she couldn’t afford to be late for work—Ray would definitely notice.

After her shift, both Luke and Y/N were filled with anticipation. Luke entered the café just as Y/N was leaving, ready for the short walk to the park where she had been just the week before.

“Hey! Ready to go?” Luke asked, giving her a hug.

“Yeah, we can go now,” Y/N replied, blushing as she returned the hug.

Luke took her hand, and together they walked to the park.

When they arrived, they found a spot under a tree to sit, sheltered from the brief moments of sunlight peeking through the gray winter clouds.

“I forgot to ask what you like, so I hope ham and cheese sandwiches are okay,” Luke said with a nervous laugh, blushing slightly.

“They’re perfect, Luke. Thank you,” Y/N smiled, giving him a light pat on the arm.

As they talked, exchanging stories, anecdotes, and little details about their lives, they both felt their connection deepening. Luke thought, “Why didn’t I ask her out sooner?” and Y/N mused, “This is going even better than I imagined.”

Before they knew it, the afternoon had flown by. “I think we should head back; it’s getting late,” Luke said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

“Yeah…we should,” Y/N agreed, her smile mirroring his sadness. They packed up and began the walk back to her dorm.

“I had a fantastic day, Luke. Thank you so much for everything,” Y/N said sweetly.

“I did too,” Luke replied, smiling back. “And thank you for agreeing to go out with me,” he added, giving her a small kiss on the cheek, leaving her blushing.

After saying goodbye, Y/N returned to her room, changed into her pajamas, and lay down on her bed, unable to stop smiling. Staring at the ceiling, she imagined what the future might hold with Luke. Suddenly, her phone chimed: “Sleep well, princess <3”

Y/N went to sleep with a huge smile, thinking, “Finally, someone notices me.”

[bordysbae]

could you please write a fanfic where y/n gets really sick, maybe she even passes out? and mark takes care of her until she feels better, like he makes her soup, cuddles, holds her hair back, and other fluffyness

“i’ll kiss you even if you’re sick”

mark estapa x fem!reader

warning: vomit, cursing, not proof read

also i think i used this gif already but there’s like none of mark sooo

you stir awake, immediately noticing the empty space beside you in bed. you rub your eyes and begin to notice the familiar things in marks room, which slowly brings back memories from last night.

the boys all decided to have a hang out, and of course being one of the girlfriends, you were invited. you all went out to a new restaurant in ann arbor and afterwards went back to nolans place. at nolan’s you started to feel quite sick, so you told mark that you’d catch an uber back to your dorm but he immediately shut that down.

“babe no, you’re coming back to mine.” he said, as he grabbed his phone from off of the living room table and stood up. you sighed and stood up from the couch, following marks actions. he explained to the rest of the group why you guys were leaving so early, as you ordered an uber for you both. once you guys made it back you both crawled into bed and called it a night.

you don’t feel much better, if anything you feel worse. a sudden nauseating feeling rushes over you, and you bolt out of bed for the bathroom. you make it just in time to the toilet, where you begin to vomit, drawing the attention of ethan who’s leaving his bedroom.

“oh shit! you okay?” he asks as he quickly rushes over to the doorway of the bathroom.

“uh, yeah,” you manage to get out, still with your face in the toilet bowl.

“let me get mark,” he says as he scurries to find mark. mark comes rushing in and holds you hair back for you, while gently rubbing circles onto your lower back. you eventually feel a little better and mark helps you get cleaned up.

“babe you’re so pale! go back and lay in my bed, i’ll bring you some medicine,” he says, as he takes your hand in his, and leads your now weak self to his bed. you shuffle around gently, still uncomfortable due to the sick feeling in your system. you hear the bedroom door open and a shuffling noise coming towards you, and you open your eyes to see mark with water and pills. you smile up at him, appreciative of his kind gesture.

once you take the pills mark gets in his bed next to you and plays with your hair, meanwhile whispering sweet nothings in your ear. your eyes then begin to feel heavy, so you shut them allowing yourself to rest. when you wake up the next time, you’re awoken by the same nausea from earlier. you jump out of marks bed, accidentally waking him in the process. he instantly gets out of bed and follows you to the bathroom, only to see you in the same state as earlier. he sighs at the sight of his sick girlfriend, and holds your hair back for you again.

“babe, i think we need to go to urgent care,” he says, kissing the top of your head as you flush the toilet.

“what? no way! i’m fine babe,” you say, standing up way too quickly for your weak state. you suddenly get a rush in your head, and next thing you know mark’s holding your body in his arms, as he sits on the bathroom floor calling out for ethan.

“ethan help! she passed out!”

—

“well, looks like the only diagnosis we have for you is food poisoning,” the urgent care doctor says.

“is there anything you can prescribe her?” mark asks, standing next to you in the small room. he has your hand in his, and he’s rubbing his thumb atop yours.

“yes, we’ll give her antibiotics. she’ll need to take the medication twice a day for a week. if she’s not feeling at all better by then, definitely come back,” the doctor says, and you nod. the doctor leaves for a few minutes, leaving you and mark alone.

“thank you for taking so much care of me mark,” you smile up at him.

“of course, that’s my job!” he smiles back before leaning down to kiss your lips. you quickly turn your head to avoid his kiss, making him gasp.

“i threw up like an hour ago! no way am i letting you kiss me!”

“oh, y/n. i’ll kiss you even if you’re sick!”

“i’m not letting you. let me brush my teeth first,” you chuckle, making him groan.

“whatever, it’s your loss. you’re missing out on free kisses!”

“since when do i have to pay for kisses?”

“starting now, since you dodged mine,” he pouts jokingly, crossing his arms and huffing too.

“oh you’ll be fine estapa.”

[abeautylives]

Times I Remember Well

(and Some That I Don’t)

Part 3

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

pairing: female!OCxjake

time frame: 2016-2018

word count: almost 7.8k this part

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

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

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

I’m not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He really was an asshole.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if it meant tolerating Jake. 

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

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

“Holy shit holy shit!”

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

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

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

“Will you be quiet? Who, Sam’s band?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Selling out multiple shows.

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

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

“Okayyyyy, so what about your underwear?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was… pretty cool.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Get a good look, asshole.

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

Say something stupid, I dare you.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nice try.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ugh, musicians. 

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

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

“What are you doing here, T?”

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

“Cut the bullshit. It’s unbecoming.”

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

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

“And what about me?”

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

It felt familiar.

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

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

“Third floor. Go.”

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

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

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

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

“Jake, what-“

“Get in here, we need to talk.”

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

“No. Where are the guys?”

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

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

“Please.”

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

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

We were alone.

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

“You want a drink?”

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

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

“Three minutes.”

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

“I don’t know what you mean, I-“

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

“To see Sam! I told you-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, you fucking prick. Fuck you-“

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

You already know that he said that on purpose.

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

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

But that’s not exactly what happened.

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

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

Yep, he was kissing me. 

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

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

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

“Why are you really here…”

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

“Say it, the truth.”

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

“You. For you.”

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

“I’m not gonna stop this time, T.”

My heart stumbled over its next few beats.

“I don’t want you to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You ever done this before?”

Asshole.

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

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

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

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

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

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

For real.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not if I had anything to say about it.

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

Through gritted teeth, “Baby, please.”

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

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

I had to. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Embarrassing, I know. But then… ohh then.

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

“I’ve wanted you longer, T. Forever.”

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

“Fuck yes, yes yes…”

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

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

“Jake, please…”

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

Still an asshole. 

“Please what, baby? Tell me.”

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

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

“Mmm,” he hummed into my skin, “No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jake!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely fucking stunning, breathtaking.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Again, more…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Beep. Click.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There was no fucking way I was stopping.”

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

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

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

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

“Come for me. Please come for me.”

How could I say no?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[nicohischierz]

icy roads: mark estapa

warnings: car crash, hospitals and flatlining

tagging: @ivy-34, @hzstry8, @francesfarhadi, @cixrosie, @heartz4hisch, @trevs-swiftie, text me or fill the form if you want to join the taglist!!

you were making your way up to michigan to see your brothers tyler and dylan.

it became custom when you and dylan joined university that you'd visit each other whenever possible. you were the one who did most of the driving considering his hectic game schedule.

so this weekend was no different.

you finished classes early and it was just in time for a long weekend. so you packed all your things in your car for the three hour drive ahead of you.

"hey dyl, i'm just getting started on the journey. i should get to aa around like the afternoon," you left your brother a message.

you then facetimed your boyfriend. the michigan native answered his phone immediately.

"hi gorgeous," he answered, moving into his room and locking the door.

"hi marky, i was trying to get through to dyl but he’s not answering,” you explained.

“yeah, we were playing a game of monopoly and your brothers got into a fight about rent or something,” mark drawled on.

you rolled your eyes at your brothers childish antiques. mark chuckled at your expression before he fell on his bed.

“you’re staying with duker right?” he asked.

you shrugged “i hope so, i don’t feel like sleeping in a dorm again,”

your conversation was cut short when someone entered marks room. “yo stop sign, we’re gonna grab something to eat before y/n gets here,” ethan called out.

“oh hey y/n, how’s the drive?” he asked once he spotted you in the phone.

“it’s going great eddy. except for the fact that i am almost out of gas now and i need food,” you complained.

you had spoken to mark for over an hour of your journey. how he managed to stay away from the boys that long was beyond you but it helped with the boring journey.

“you fill your tank and i’ll see you when you get here,” mark wished you goodbye and sent you a kiss before ending the call.

as you headed into the station and grabbed some snacks, you texted your brothers your eta and thanked the cashier before walking out, sour patch kids in hand.

the roads were getting more slippery as you approached ann arbor causing you to slow down just a little.

it all happened so fast.

you were taking a bend when your car slide off the road, driving off road into a tree.

the impact of the car caused you to hit your head on the dashboard. you were knocked out immediately not hearing the shouts asking if you were alright.

meanwhile, back in michigan your brothers were wondering where you were. “wait when you checked her location last where was she?” dylan asked.

tyler pulled his phone out and check find my iphone “she was at this exact spot dude, i swear to you,” he explained.

now that got all the boys worried.

so ethan, mark, tyler and dylan all piled into a car and drove to your location.

“dude, why are there so many police cars?” ethan asked.

his question was answered when the boys pulled up to the side, tyler noticed his sisters license plate and her sticker saying ‘osu mum’.

the younger duke brother made a dash towards his sisters car. dylan followed after with mark.

“woah. woah, you guys can’t be here,” a cop told the three boys.

“no, sir that’s my sister,” dylan explained. tyler had tears coming out of his eyes as he watched his sister be pulled out of on a stretcher.

the cops face softened as he ushered the two brothers to follow him. “you guys get in the ambulance, your friends can follow and i’ll be there soon okay,” he explained.

tyler and dylan wasted no time climbing into the back of the ambulance. mark headed back to the car, his hands shaking.

ethan was quick to notice and strapped him into the passenger seat. “mark, she’s going to be okay. it’s y/n she’s going to pull through,” he reassured his friend.

ethan and mark called the rest of the group telling them what happened and they didn’t even stop for a second before they headed towards the hospital.

ethan and mark met tyler and dylan in the waiting room.

"they took her to do some scans. they say say it's not anything major but umm, they want to make sure there isn't any like internal bleeding or anything," tyler mumbled.

mark wrapped the younger duke brother in a hug. he knew how close you and tyler were so he took it upon himself to look after the boy.

it was pretty soon after that the rest of the michigan boys showed up. tyler had texted some of your friends from osu telling them what happened as they blew up your phone.

the cop who brought the boys to the hospital handed dylan and tyler your suitcase and waited with the brothers and their friends.

it was quiet in the hospital as the doctors finished doing some checks on you before letting dylan and tyler in. your parents were trying to find the fastest way to see you guys but till they came it was your brothers that took care of everything.

but by some unfortunate luck, when dylan and tyler had finally been allowed to see you, your ecg started beeping like crazy. the two brothers watched as nurses and doctors flocked into your room pushing the two out.

mark rushed over to your room to see what was happening and watched as your once steady heartbeat went flat. tyler was crying hysterically as rutger and frank tried comforting their friend.

ethan held onto dylan, the older boy trying to maintain a strong face for his younger brother.

but mark couldn't handle it. his chest felt tight and he felt like he couldn't breathe. his ears were ringing and the only thing he wanted was to be in your arms.

"kiddo are you okay?" the cop asked.

the question brought everyone's attention towards mark. the michigan native clutched onto his chest as he looked dylan in the eyes.

the look was all dylan needed to know.

dylan wanted to scream at his teammate. how could mark go against the one unspoken law they had all agreed on. don't date your friends sister.

tyler hadn't caught on yet. but as he was about to ask his brother what was wrong a nurse came out of your room.

"are you guys y/n dukes family?" she asked.

the boys all nodded, forgetting the moment of tension.

"she's going to be alright. it seems that she was waking up and her tracker slipped," she explained.

tyler wanted to go in and see his sister but the nurse added "is there a boy named mark here. she was asking for him earlier,"

mark stepped forward and followed after the nurse. but before he went in, he grabbed onto tyler’s arm and pulled him along.

“i know she’d want to see you too,” he whispered

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Stacy Gittleman

Ten minutes before U-M President Santa Ono was about to speak, Momblanco said one of the keffiyeh-clad young women left. When she came back, she smiled at her seated friend and signaled a thumbs-up.

When Ono took the stage, Momblanco said the screaming and shouting began.

“At that point, someone behind me yelled ‘Death to Jews,’” Momblanco recalled. “That is when some girls and parents near me began to cry and leave. My husband and I left in fear and headed downstairs to try to find my daughter. We both began to cry when we saw each other and left the auditorium. That was the first time I saw security or police, and they were all outside. There were also other protesters filming us on the front steps.”

Audience members were warned not to disrupt the Honors Convocation ceremony, yet they did anyway without consequence.

Students and parents fear that this is just a warmup for commencement ceremonies. There is chatter on Jewish parent Facebook and WhatsApp groups that stronger measures need to be taken or else they may consider not attending graduation events.

Many are hoping Ono’s administration can dial things back down by establishing new ramped-up anti-disruption policies in time for graduation.

U-M President Responds

In a campus community announcement, Ono on March 27stated that while he recognizes the importance of maintaining the campus as a bastion of free speech and expression, at the same time, the administration is surveying the community as it unveils its proposed Disruptive Activity Policy.

Ono stated: “No one has the right to infringe on the exercise of others’ speech and activities by disrupting the normal celebrations, activities and operations of the university.”

Ono continued: “Under the draft Disruptive Activity Policy, students accused of a violation would receive written notice and, after an opportunity to meet with a U-M official, may accept responsibility and an assigned sanction, or choose to participate in a hearing. Sanctions would include a formal reprimand up to and including suspension or expulsion, according to the draft policy.”

It is not clear when the policy will be finalized or enacted.

Meanwhile, the big time Detroit/Ann Arbor Jewish organizations have done next to nothing to stem the tide of area antisemitism. GA jr

[tia-amorosa]

Sunset Died - Erin's Crew

Breakthrough

About an hour had passed when Peter came into the bedroom. He saw Chloe typing furiously on the keyboard of her laptop, highly concentrated. He then slowly sat down next to her. “Am I disturbing you?”/ “No…” Her eyes moved from left to right, from top to bottom across the screen at lightning speed. “You seem to have had a good conversation with the colonel, didn't you?”.

“Mhm…”. It wasn't easy to dissuade her from her task. Nor did he want to. He enjoyed watching her perform a task with great concentration. Then she began to breathe a little faster. “In a moment, in a moment… HA, I'm in!"/ ‘Where?’/ ‘In the security system of a certain communication satellite,’ she said loudly and with joy.

“Can I look over your shoulder?”. She looked at him for a moment, smiled broadly and then nodded. When he looked at the screen, everything looked very strange to him: flickering diagrams, different scales and lots of letters and numbers that seemed to be jumbled up. But Chloe knew her way around and knew what she was doing. “What are you doing exactly?"/ ”I'm trying to trace the frequency. This satellite has recorded all the data and communication transfer.

“Can you see or hear what was said there?"/ ”No, I can't get that far in, but what I can see is enough. Now just this one more code and we're… oh, okay, I didn't expect that,” she said in amazement. “What do you mean?"/ ‘I thought I might end up somewhere in Antarctica or somewhere even more remote…’/ ”But? Hey, don't keep me in suspense any longer, haha!"/ ‘the contact is in… Hidden Springs?!’.

“Hidden Springs? Hm, isn't that a quiet spa town?"/ ”Yes, that's right. But… I can well imagine that people have also settled there who perhaps don't want to stand out. And believe me, people like that are usually really bad! I'll let her know. Are you coming?"/ ‘I need to talk to her anyway, sure’. Chloe briefly held out her hand to help him up. Then she put her laptop back in the cupboard and they both made their way to Erin.

Chloe knew she had to get her information to Erin as soon as possible. They met her in the kitchen. And she saw Chloe's excited face. “What?… Did you…"/ ”Mhm, it's Hidden Springs! They communicated with Mr. Alto from there. The time period also matches…” Erin looked at her almost fixedly and gasped. “And only from there?"/ ”mhm, yes”.

“And… were you able to locate more precisely from where in Hidden Springs?"/ ”Well, according to the satellite images I could see of the town, the signal was coming from a relatively large private house, not a public building. Unfortunately, I couldn't find out the address”. Erin took a deep breath. “OK, please send me the pictures, I'll find out the rest. And you, Mr. Lee, what were you able to find out?”.

Chloe urgently needed to go to the toilet. Meanwhile, Peter spoke to Erin: “I've called the administration in a few towns directly and asked what the situation is with space for new immigrants. I haven't gotten very far yet, but Evansdale County, Meadow Glenn and Anne Arbor still have a lot of space available for immigrants.”.

Erin's got a satisfied smile on her face. “Wow, that's a lot, Mr. Lee, good work. Isn't there even a university in Anne Arbor?"/ ”Yes, a very good one. And it offers all sorts of different courses. I thought about going there at the time, but I was more interested in joining the military"/ ”hnhn, I see. That would of course be a good new opportunity for the young people. Thank you, Mr. Lee”.

Erin went back to her office and waited for Chloe to send her the satellite images. “Come on… Oh, there they are. She took several pictures, of the surrounding area… That's the house? I thought it was bigger. And she couldn't find the address? Okay, maybe I can work it out…”.

Erin was a little surprised that Chloe couldn't find out the address. It was quite a simple procedure to find out. “I think she got quite excited and couldn't think properly. She's already helped me quite a bit… I just need to compare the satellite images with a map of the city. The street runs here… OK, that's the house. But who the hell lives there?”.

At first, Erin had no idea how best to find out who lived in this house in Hidden Springs. But then she remembered that she knew a former comrade who lived there. She searched for the contact on her smartphone and finally found her. “I hope the number is still up to date…”. She stood up and took a few steps through her office while she dialed the number.

It rang, three times, four times, then the call was answered. “Yes please?"/ ‘Yes hi, um, Jenny?’/ ‘Yes? Who is this?’/ ”Oh good, this is Erin Kennedy, remember me? “. There was silence on the other end for a moment… “My God, Erin! Yes, of course I remember! You're alive?”

“Yes, I'm alive."/ ”Wow, but how? I thought you were… Well"/ ”No, I wasn't even in town at the time… But that's not the point now. Listen, it would be nice if you could find something out for me, you're still living in Hidden Springs, right?"/ ‘Yeah, and still with my roommate Blake, why, what's going on?’.

“I need information from you about a certain house there…"/ ‘OK, which one?’/ ”Hold on, I'll send you a picture and the address. Maybe you can tell me who lives there?”. After Erin had sent her the things, it took a moment for the woman on the other end to say something again. “uff, I don't know now, I'd have to find out or drive by"/ ‘O.K., but be careful’.

“Why should I be careful?"/ ”Because… Oh, you don't know what kind of people you'll suddenly run into. And please don't ring the doorbell, I just want to know who lives there…"/ ”And then? What good does that do you? Do you have a special assignment?"/ ”Yes, something like that. I'd like to talk to you about it, but not until I've finished everything. Please…"/ ”All right… I'll do it. I'll get back to you in an hour”. After hanging up, Erin rubbed her hands nervously. “hu, we're so close now… please”.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

@greenplumbboblover ⭐

[darkmaga-returns]

If you think that the left is just going to sit back and accept Donald Trump’s victory, you must not have been paying attention for the past eight years.  Trump is the most hated politician in modern American history, and prominent voices in the media continue to fuel that hate by making extremely inflammatory statements.  For the moment, many on the left are still in a state of complete shock because they were entirely convinced that they were going to win this election.  But once the shock wears off, we will see an explosion of anger, frustration and fury that is unlike anything we have ever seen before.

Unfortunately, we are already seeing signs of what is to come.  For example, a man in Michigan has been arrested by authorities for planning an attack “against conservative Christians” because they supported Trump so strongly this election…

A 25-year-old Michigan man is facing federal charges after he allegedly threatened violence against conservative Christians over former President Donald Trump winning the presidential election. Isaac Sissel of Ann Arbor was arrested Tuesday morning and charged in a federal criminal complaint with making a threatening communication, according to a statement from the U.S. Attorney’s Office, Eastern District of Michigan. Prosecutors said the FBI National Threat Operations Center in West Virginia received an anonymous online threat on Nov. 2, which included details about a planned attack.

Apparently this particular individual was planning to use a stolen AR-15 semiautomatic rifle to hit a high profile target.

During the months ahead, churches all over America are going to need to pay extra attention to security, because there are a lot of extremely unbalanced people out there.

Meanwhile, large protests against Trump have already begun.

For example, last night there was a very loud protest outside of Trump’s hotel in Chicago…

[lifeofpriya]

Best Pillow - Nick Blankenburg imagine

[gif credit goes to @jurislafkovsky]

requested by @donttelltheelff

summary: At that moment, all Nick Blankenburg wanted was your attention…

You couldn't contain the grin on your face as your boyfriend hopped onto the bed and sat down next to you.

"What are you working on there, Y/N?" Nick tilted his head to the side while watching you type away on your keyboard; your eyes were intently focused on the laptop screen in front of you.

"Oh, it's just a task I have to finish for work before my next shift," you softly mumbled to Nick while keeping your eyes firmly planted on the screen. "It shouldn't take me too much time, so after I finish this, I'm all yours for the rest of the night, babe."

At first, he furrowed his eyebrows but then later released the furrow after you reassured him that the work task would take too long. Grabbing his phone off the nightstand where he last placed it down, Nick decided to pass time by mindlessly scrolling through Instagram; wanting to see what antics his former teammates from Michigan.

Even though Ann Arbor was a three-hour drive away from Columbus, Nick still wholeheartedly missed his college teammates tremendously and if he could, he would drive to and from every weekend just to see them again.

Every now and then, you'd hear your boyfriend's faint chuckles as he'd pass by someone's Instagram post -- a relaxed smile crept on his lips as he rejoiced in his friends having the time of their lives with each other in Ann Arbor.

But soon, what was supposed to be task that would not take up a lot of time eventually did; frustrating you to the end of the Atlantic Ocean.

"Why is it taking me so long to get this complete," you touched your temple while closing your eyes; you brought a shaky hand to your forehead as the all-too-familiar emotion of overwhelmingness started to wash over.

Meanwhile, Nick could feel his eyes start to slowly close; a sudden burst of tiredness suddenly washed over him. Letting out a small yawn, he laid his head onto your shouder, which caught you off guard.

"Nicky, what are you doing?" You let out a loud squeal when you felt your boyfriend wrap his arms around you.

"You're so cozy," he drowsily mumbled with a quiet voice, "do you mind if I use you as a pillow?"

Letting out a soft chuckle, you simply nodded in agreement and let him fall asleep on you. You couldn't help but smile at the adorable sight in front of you, almost inaudibly whispering to yourself, "I love you so much, Nick…"

[rgr-pop]

if i was a normal level of unwell right now i’d be baking a loaf of bread. i don’t want to have to leave the house tomorrow and i can’t bring myself to go to this stupid womens meeting. i have been so clear that i can’t do non constructive meetings that don’t specifically need me right now because i’m worn so thin, but if i don’t come on my sunday off i’ll lose credibility and these other orgs won’t work on the abortion fund projects. it feels like it’s always all on me to defend the value of doing repro work— and sometimes that’s okay and as you know i’m stepping up to work on this structural problem. but the problem is that if i show any signs of fragility—or god forbid say, “i need my sunday to myself this week,” or even worse, “my pet snail is dying and it’s going to impact my productivity for a week,” what i will be told is, well, you don’t have the capacity to sustain this work, so we’re going to stop working on it.

and the problem isn’t exactly that i’m the only one doing it (right now for example i have a street outreach brigade pamphleting hash bash lol in ann arbor, a political research crew prepping for the leg piece, a new Posting partnership planned for soon, the fundraiser ask is being made by someone else, plus some workings in a second chapter… look at me defending the work to you!), but we don’t have quite everyone with ownership over the project yet (which you build to) and, as i’ve said, everyone is depending all their willingness to not put up walls around this on whether or not i personally look energized and perfect and like i know everything every time they see me. meanwhile i want only one thing all the time (to kill myself). and i can’t be in this position because i’m not doing great. but i’m an ill and severely mentally ill person who can—i know—do a couple hours a week of organizing most weeks. and i believe you can build effective campaigns that bring in more people and build capacity and bolster people’s belief in the power working collectively for 2-10 hours a week can have to change people’s lives and make them feel mostly better rather than mostly worse. it’s important to me to hold that line. but i personally can’t survive being scolded by social workers (anarchists) and sociopaths (postleninists and social movement strategists) not to mention the regular misogynists who I HAVE TO PRESENT THIS TO IN A WEEK HOPING THAT THEY DONT DO SOMETHING MEAN TO SCARY TO ME IN FRONT OF EVERYONE!!

anyway the thing is that i’m so fragile that i don’t see a way where this consciousness raising or whatever meeting doesn’t ruin my mood for the next few days, because every single one so far has been so bad it has edged on a traumatic experience. and i have to deal with that on top of everything else i have in my life (snail dying, baby, ANTS, being solely responsible for housework and most bills, feeding myself on no money, medical appointments, all my loved ones in crisis due to being poor women, eclipse???, my union, eating disorder, chronic pain, SNAIL DYING). and if you were a loser wannabe social worker you might say “it sounds like you don’t have capacity to organize” and, WRONG. i don’t have the capacity to waste two hours of my life + the bus travel on a consciousness raising meeting where someone tells me what’s wrong about me. and i disagree with the relational organizing (or even post bernie labor type) partisans a who say, that’s where the organizing happens. i disagree and i have a different theory of how this works (i may be inventing a caucus lol). and most importantly i think that i personally am more like a majority of working class women than i’m different. the main thing that makes me most different from other working class women is how much time i commit to communism. i want to change this!!!

today i need to work on things but i’m focused on my snail and the feelings around this. i’m having a hard time feeding myself. i don’t think crying on a saturday with my dying pet snail while managing mental illness during an eclipse makes me someone who can’t organize and i do NOT think getting psychologically torn to shreds by a social worker in training or a social movement strategist trying to force me to do drugs at a retreat is going to make me a better organizer.

j invited us over after the meeting and i’m overcome with guilt about coming empty handed. i miss him. i saw him in passing at the last meeting. he makes me happy and feel better. i don’t think i should be with him because i worry all i can do is complain. and he will be reminded why everyone hates me et cetera. but after i saw him that day when i wanted to die he reached out right after and said do you guys want to come over for dinner.

i can’t do the dishes. i made sniva a carrot. she got up to eat it. her trapdoor is so withered but i don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go on reddit to think about it. i want her to live six more days. i genuinely don’t know whether i’m neglecting her or should let it be. i am almost sure there is nothing i can do to fix her trapdoor. i’m going to do a small water change/replacement tonight if i can be upright enough. that’s it!! im as good as murdering her

[darkeagleruins]

A now deleted post from Rep. Betsy Coffia (D-Ann Arbor North, FKA Traverse City) reveals Michigan Democrats waited until Lame Duck to prioritize unpopular, self serving legislation.

Meanwhile, Sen. Polehanki (D-Failing Schools) claims they are “protecting” Michiganders

[contreparry]

Hi Ann! How about Arboreal Fort. Creative solutions to uncommon problems. Flatten the area? —Cullen. Of course the commander suggests hitting the hills until they forget they’re hills. —L I was joking. Meanwhile, have you threatened to cut out anyone’s tongue today? —Cullen Thinking about it right now. —L from DA Lore prompts? Happy writing!

Absolutely! Here's some Cassandra (with Varric) for @dadrunkwriting

The rope ladders weren't the disaster Cullen thought they might be. Cassandra was certain that Leliana would be smugly writing a note to be delivered by raven if she saw the secured rope ladders that crossed up the cliff face like the threads of a spider's web. The land need not be flattened with a mallet after all, dear Commander, she'd write (probably write), and Cullen would once more insist it was a joke and Leliana would insist on deliberately taking his every word earnestly, and Josephine would try to turn the ensuing argument to her advantage-

Cassandra felt a headache blooming behind her eyes, and she was leagues away from Skyhold and the War Table. Imagining the chaos within was enough to set her on edge. She inhaled the crisp morning air to settle her nerves. Best to get started. Traversing the Frostback Basin would take up most of the morning, even with her early start.

"Damn. Couldn't have put the rungs a little closer, huh? Or maybe built some stairs?" Varric remarked, his wry tone making Cassandra want to snap that they were on official business, not a pleasure jaunt. But she held her tongue, for Varric had a point. The rope ladder right above them was made with longer legs in mind. They might have to- and Cassandra almost groaned at the thought- find another way around.

Perhaps flattening the hills did hold some merit.

"I suppose we could lower a rope and hoist you up. Like a crate," Cassandra suggested, and Varric shuddered dramatically before offering her a (what he must have thought was charming) wink and grin.

"No need, Seeker. Just spied a ladder made for shorter legs riiiiight over there," Varric pointed towards a ladder towards the left of her own. " He walked off then, whistling merrily even though Cassandra caught his grimace right before he turned away. It was typical of Varric to hide his displeasure or discomfort behind a smile and false cheer, though Cassandra was surprised to see that he maintained this facade here, even with her. Usually he was happy to complain within her earshot, but now...

Perhaps this was his way of showing her mercy, Cassandra thought as she gripped the rope ladder and hoisted herself up the first rung. Her headache abated slightly. Perhaps today wouldn't be as dreadful as she first feared.

[romanceyourdemons]

cinderella (english name her employer gave her taken from a bad gloss of her chinese name) went to america one ship ahead of the rest of her family to join her father, who was supposed to have built his fortune working on the transcontinental railroad, but when she got there she found her father had died and the company kept all his earnings, and the chinese exclusion act has come down behind her and sent the rest of her family back at the harbor. as her family’s only remaining foothold outside of their drought-stricken hometown, she decides to step into the role of her father and earn money for the rest of her family so they can have a place to come if and when the act is lifted. she would do hard labor if she could, but with her bound feet she can’t work anywhere outside of a laundry that horribly mistreats its employees. cinderella wants to form a union, but without financial backing and media attention their boss will just fire them all and hire a batch of willing scabs.

meanwhile the prince is the beau of high society, but her parents, whose sensibilities and experiences as german jewish immigrants make them far more scandal-averse than their flamboyant child, desperately want her to settle down and marry and please stop picking girls up in bars it’s getting difficult to keep your name out of the papers. they give the prince an ultimatum: either you can get married and become someone else’s problem, or we’re cutting you off completely. the prince has proven severely allergic to all forms of matchmaking and has no romantic prospects that last longer than a week, so to sweeten the pot (from the parents’ perspective) or twist the knife (from the prince’s) they throw a grand coming-out ball with invitations open to all of san francisco. the prince shows up to the ball supremely unhappy and looking for oscar wilde to liven up the place, when she catches sight of a gorgeous guest certain to stir up some drama: cinderella, who had stolen a suit from the laundromat, borrowed a walking stick, and stuffed men’s shoes with newspaper to find a sponsor at the ball. the two meet, and it’s mutual benefit at first sight.

the bargain goes as such: the prince will support cinderella’s efforts to organize a union if cinderella shows up to every event the prince is invited to and makes a whole act of their seduction and forbidden love. the prince will never learn cinderella’s real name; from the union side, the prince will deal with the chinese laundress’s union as a body, and from the society side cinderella will always appear as “mr. chan,” and if anything goes wrong mr. chan will cease to exist and all traces of collusion will vanish with him. but of course things are never so simple. as time goes on the prince becomes more and more invested in union building, and cinderella becomes more influential in high society—no matter how professional they try to stay, feelings between them start to grow.

but when a rising politician’s anti-chinese platform causes the minor affairs of mr. chan and the chinese laundress’s union to explode into major, violent scandal, the prince’s parents tell their daughter very clearly: we will host a soirée. at this soirée, you will announce your engagement, or else you will be on a train to your aunt in ann arbor the next morning. the prince explains the situation to cinderella and asks her if she would be willing to come. there is a curfew for chinese people at midnight, but she doesn’t have to stay that late. just long enough to say goodbye. against her very good better judgement, cinderella agrees.

mr. chan shows up to the soirée, the last social engagement she can ever attend. she gives the prince a scripted, dispassionate greeting and says her carefully chosen parting words to key figures in the room. the prince approaches her in private and asks her if she could spare one last dance. cinderella knows that everything she has worked for for her family and her union sisters could be on the line, but she still agrees. they dance in a side room, music muffled through the wall, and they lose all track of time—until the clock strikes midnight. in a panic, cinderella grabs her cane and hat and runs from their house.

mr. chan has ceased to exist. they had always decided their meeting locations and times in advance, so—just as they had planned—the prince no longer has any way to find cinderella. the only thing she has is a man’s shoe stuffed full of newsprint that had fallen off on the front steps of their home.

but that is enough. running away from the train station, the prince uses the newspapers stuffed into the shoe to calculate where in the city cinderella works. she finds the laundry, barges inside, the humidity staining her fine starched collar and frizzing up her carefully combed hair. the laundry is full of workers, their heads lowered and their faces obscured with steam. the prince watches for a while. she falls on one of the workers. it is her cinderella, whom she cannot leave, and she does not: she accepts her parents’ disownment and builds a life for herself in san francisco, and cinderella builds a life with her, and the two of them attend union meetings and send letters and money home and dance to the gramophone, happy ever after

cinderella remake set in 1880s san francisco where cinderella is a chinese immigrant with bound feet and also she’s a butch lesbian and the prince is a butch lesbian too but she’s a paris-educated german-american socialite and a darling of the transatlantic arts and literary world so the connotations of her gender nonconformity are completely different. oscar wilde is there

[bordysbae]

Hi queen!! Could you write something for Frank where the reader is older and she gets made fun of for being a cougar? Thank you.

“cougs”

frank nazar x f!reader

usually you didn’t go for guys younger than you. quite the opposite actually. but when you met frank nazar you knew you were in deep shit. “he’s literally younger than you y/n!” your friend exclaims, shocked that you’re going after a younger guy.

“it’s college, who cares anymore! he’s hot!” your other friend chimes in.

“guys stop it, i’ve barely even spoken to the guy! i met him at a party, you guys need to chill,” you chuckle, scrolling through your texts with the freshman.

“yeah well does every guy you meet ask for your number?” the ginger haired one asks, raising an eyebrow at you. you bashfully smile, knowing that’s she’s right.

“yeah y/n, that’s what we thought,” the brunette one says, making you throw a pillow at her. “oh shut it!” you exclaim, meanwhile your cheeks become coated in a rosy pink.

—

all of that was a little over a month ago. now you’ve been dating frank for nearly three weeks, and you’ve never met his teammates. you already know they’re gonna make comments about how you’re older than him, since frank had told you that they chirp him about it in the locker room.

“frank, i’m nervous,” you admit, as he parks the car outside of the restaurant. he immediately turns his head towards you and a pitiful pout appears on his lips.

“don’t be babe, i promise it’s gonna be okay. they won’t be too harsh on you, and if they are i’ll say something okay?” he reassures, and you nod your head. as you both walk into the small restaurant in the depths of ann arbor, you spot the table full of boys and a couple girls here and there.

“hey nazar!” one of the boys exclaims, dapping frank up as you both walk past the long row of people, who aren’t sat against the cushioned booth. then you guys reach the empty chairs saved for you both.

“so, you must be the famous y/n! i’m nolan, team captain,” he smirks, proud of the ‘captain’ title.

“yes, that’s me!” you sweetly smile, afraid of the jokes you’ll be never hear the end of. “so you’re… a junior right?” another boy next to nolan chimes in with a small chuckle, making your cheeks run hot.

“oh, i’m actually a sophmore,” you correct him, aware that he’s very much making a little joke about you. he smiles at your response, before introducing himself as ethan.

“we’ve heard a lot about you! i’m shocked i’ve never seen you before, especially since we’re the same age, y’know?” another boy chimes in, making your heart rate immediately speed up. frank grabs your hand under the table, squeezing it tight in his as a way of reassurance.

“oh, yeah that’s strange,” you say, stuttering a little on your words out of both embarrassment and nerves. for a moment the jokes die down, but once they start up again you immediately feel upset and nervous again.

clearly this is obvious to frank, because suddenly he snaps from quiet to angry, “okay guys that’s enough. are you done with the stupid comments you’re making? it’s just a one year age difference, you guys need to cut it out! can’t you see you’re making both of us uncomfortable?” he exclaims, startling everyone and making them immediately how quiet and listen to him.

“look we’re sorry man, and sorry to you too y/n. it’s all jokes i promise. and i promise we’re done with the chirps, right guys?” the boy you know to be nolan says, looking at all the boys who were making comments. they all nod their heads and apologize to you, making you feel better. the rest of dinner is sweeter, and you’ve basically forgotten about the comments from earlier due to all the jokes being cracked, and funny stories being told. as you and frank are leaving the restaurant, nolan comes up to you to say goodbye.

“y/n! it was nice meeting you, and i’m sorry about earlier,” nolan says, pulling you into a side hug.

“hey it’s alright, i know it was all a joke, just a little bit sensitive i guess,” you shrug, making nolan smile at your forgiveness.

“cya around, cougs,” nolan chuckles, making you roll your eyes jokingly, hitting nolan’s arm.

“yeah yeah whatever, hope you get a girlfriend soon enough! it must suck being alone all the time,” you joke back, making everyone around you laugh.

“oh i like her, you picked well nazar!” a boy chimes in as he begins walking to his car, making frank chuckle before parting ways with the group. he then wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer into his side.

“i’m sorry about them, but it wasn’t too bad was it?” he asks.

“no, it wasn’t so bad after all,” you smile up at him.

“i’m glad you had a good time. thanks for coming with me, cougar,” frank smirks, making you roll your eyes and playfully hit his chest.

[bramblewatchescharmed]

Did a season 1 rewatch of Charmed (2018) a few weeks ago (thanks to my local library), and oooh boy.

Admittedly, it annoys the hell out of me that the opening credits for the reboot have "Created by Constance M. Burge". I KNOW they have to credit her for legal reasons, since it was her show they stole while acting like the original never existed, but she had jack shit to do with the development of the reboot. I'm also annoyed that the pilot for the reboot gave her writing credit, when uh…. that's a lie. There's the second network draft of the pilot script floating around that solely lists Jennie Snyder Urman, Jessica O'Toole, and Amy Rardin. Burge's name is nowhere to be found. Everything about the reboot states that it was developed by Urman; Burge had nothing to do with it.

Even if they seriously wanted to credit her, at least do it a different way? At least credit her with "Based on the series Charmed created by Constance M. Burge" or something like that?

Back to the main point: it really does feel like they packed 4 - 8 seasons worth of material into one season. Sometimes 3 seasons' worth of material into 1 episode.

Gods, this show is a mess, and what's sad is that season 1, compared to what comes later, is the best season of the reboot (and that isn't saying much, because man does season 1 have its problems). Like… maybe 15 episodes in and it still feels like the writers don't know these characters at all, which means the audience doesn't either.

They never know what to do with Mel (who comes across like a total dumbass when dealing with both the Elders and the Sarcana), Maggie is incredibly self-centered, Macy is the smartest out of the three (and also the only one that actually gives a shit at finding out anything about anything), but good grief.

The only thing Maggie cares about all season is getting into the Kappa sorority and her half-demon boyfriend Parker. Meanwhile I'm wondering why the hell she wants to be in this particular sorority so badly, because it is portrayed in the most stereotypical way possible and Kappa leader Lucy is such a shallow, vapid party girl bitch whose voice grates on my ears. (This is supposed to take place in Michigan, 2 hours away from Ann Arbor, so why does Lucy sound like she's from Orange County in California? I get that out-of-state students exist, but the actress's voice she uses for this particular character annoys the hell out of me.)

Another thing: Mel doing the history rewriting spell to protect Niko turns out to have been completely unnecessary because 1) Jada points out there’s another spell she could have used to protect Niko that didn’t involve rewriting her personal history; and 2) Mel ends up telling Niko anyway that she’s a witch. Because Niko ends up back in Mel’s life anyway as a PI investigating the Sarcana for Jada’s adoptive parents, and Mel cannot stay away from her (despite Niko being engaged to Greta in this timeline—the very same Greta she initially cheated on with Mel in their original timeline).

I still don't like how Macy's virginity is Such a Big Deal to all the other characters and how her love interest Galvin has more of a reaction to her being a virgin than he does to her being a witch. Even her sisters make a Huge Deal out of the fact she's still a virgin at 28, which Macy is visibly annoyed by because it's not that big a deal to her.