#and it was just the most fantastic time ever

[concreteburialplot]

Friendsgiving

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

Masterlist: Here | Crossposted: ao3 | Word Count: 8.1k

Summary: You and your best friends decide to have Friendsgiving in their parent’s lake cabin. When one friend embarrassingly reveals a secret you’ve been keeping, Jake offers to help :)

Warnings; alcohol, weed, college au, porn w a little plot, virginity loss, oral (m & f receiving), sexual activities outdoors, unprotected sex, creampie, kinda cliché, kinda fluffy, reader has a nickname, 18+ MDNI

A/N; my first jake fic and first ever thanksgiving fic, hope you enjoy 🩷

Every year your best friend Josh would gather you and his brothers, along with any close friends or partners for a Thanksgiving bonfire. It had begun as a rebellious excuse to swipe some booze, get drunk, and escape suffocating family obligations. But by this third year in college, Josh and his brothers had finally convinced their family to let them host Friendsgiving at the family cabin. You were of course grateful for this tradition, especially since your family was…not your favorite to be around – but the night and the beer were slowly catching up to you, starting to fill your limbs with a slight numbing feeling. True to form, Josh was determined to wring every last drop of energy from the night, his boisterous voice and endless antics keeping the group alive.

The once eventful night dulled down into another Friendsgiving tradition Josh had concocted. This entailed gathering everyone – usually at their drunkest –  to share one thing you were grateful for and one thing you want to let go of. What started as a cheesy joke had somehow evolved into a yearly ritual, with Josh waxing poetry about offering up your ambitions to the gods or some equally absurd sentiment.

Warmth snaked up your arms as you watched the bonfire flames flicker and sway, their hypnotic dance casting fleeting shadows across your face. Your eyes drifted over to your other best friend and Josh’s twin, Jake. He wore a flannel that was your exact favorite shade of red over some black band tee, paired with a dark multicolored knitted beanie. The edges of your lips curled into a subtle smile at the way the beanie was so lopsided on his head.

His attention was fixed on the acoustic guitar resting in his lap as his fingers idly plucked out a Fleetwood Mac tune. The gentle strumming mingled with the crackling fire, until a sharp pop from the flames broke the rhythm. Jake’s head lifted, his eyes moving to the burning flame before shifting to meet yours which were already on him.

The small grin that spread across his face made your cheeks flush with heat, an involuntary response that you desperately hoped could be blamed on the chilly air. You quickly looked away, silently thankful that the cold had already painted your cheeks rosy.

“Your turn, Y/N.” You heard a nasaly voice call from across the circle around the fire. Your gaze landed on the dark-haired girl perched comfortably on your friend Danny’s lap. Lorna. She was a coworker from the on-campus pizza shop where you both worked, and unfortunately for you, the girl Danny had decided to fall for.

Lorna was, without a doubt, one of the most irritating people you’d ever met. Still, spending so much time together at work had somehow turned her into one of your closest female friends since you only really had the boys. To her credit, she’d mellowed out a bit over time—just enough to make her tolerable. Tonight, however, the slur in her voice and the glazed look in her eyes made it clear she was far past her limit.

You sighed because you’d been dreading this question all night, you had a list of things to be thankful for but you couldn’t think of a single thing to let go of and you knew Josh wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Uh, well.” You cleared your throat. “I’m thankful for this fantastic cabin.” Your arm flung outward towards the house behind you. “And I’m thankful for surviving midterms.”

“…And?” Josh predictably pressed.

“Oh, I don’t really have anything to let go of this year.” You chuckled nervously waving the notion away.

“Oh, come on, Star, if I have to answer, so do you,” Sam, the youngest brother, protested from beside Danny, using your nickname as he lazily held a thick blunt between his fingers.

“Yeah, there’s gotta be something you wanna get rid of.” Josh pushed.

Your eyes bounced across everyone surrounding the bonfire, each one with urging faces casted in a fiery glow. It was almost overwhelming, daunting – suffocating. Suddenly, you felt backed into a corner you never wanted to be in. It wasn’t the simple question that intimidated you, it was the answer. One you didn’t want to share, at least not truthfully.

But with the alcohol buzzing in your veins and the unspoken demand hanging thick in the air, you finally caved. “Okay, fine,” you exhaled, the words carrying a mix of resignation and defiance. “I want to get rid of… something. Something very personal.” You deliberately stopped short, letting the finality of your tone tell them that was all they were getting.

At least, that was your plan—until a drunken cackle erupted from your left.

“Ha!” Lorna slurred, her laughter loud and unabashed. “Your virginity!”

Your jaw nearly hit the floor at her drunken outburst, your cheeks blazing hot as the embarrassment spread down to the tips of your fingers. The heat intensified when you caught Jake’s gaze out of the corner of your eye, his attention fixed squarely on you. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, drowning out everything but the suffocating silence that had fallen over the group—save for Lorna absentmindedly cackling.

One late night after work, over a few too many drinks, Lorna had somehow pried your biggest secret out of you. Well, second biggest secret. You just never imagined she’d announce it in front of your closest friends. Your silence was also telling, confirming what she said was true.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, Josh spoke up, “Oh, sex is overrated anyway! Jake your next.” He announced swiftly.

It was clear he was trying to help, to move past the awkwardness of the moment, but your throat felt constricted, like it was lined with barbed wire, and your eyes stung with the threat of tears. Before Jake could respond to Josh, you shot to your feet, the sudden movement making your heart race. “I have to go.”

Without waiting for a reaction, you weaved your way out of the circle, your steps quick and unsteady as you headed in the opposite direction, away from the back porch.

Jake’s frustrated scoff reached your ears as you walked, and when you glanced back, you saw him glaring at Lorna and Danny. With a sharp exhale, he gently set his guitar aside before rising from his chair to follow.

But you didn’t care. You couldn’t. The emotions swirled inside you—embarrassment, frustration, confusion—but all you could do was keep walking, heading toward the dark expanse of the forest that bordered the icy lake. Only as you neared the trees did it hit you how pointless it was to walk deeper into the cold, how ridiculous it would look if you turned back now. But the thought of being alone, even in the freezing silence of the woods, felt like the only thing that made sense. And that’s all you wanted right now, to be alone.

“Star!” Jake’s voice called after you, and you nearly flinched at the sound of it. He was the last person you wanted to talk to after everything that had just happened.

“Leave me alone, Jake. I’m fine,” you croaked, but the weakness in your voice betrayed you, revealing just how vulnerable you were.

“You’re obviously not fine,” he shot back, his footsteps persistent as he followed you toward the tree line.

“Just go back! Go have fun,” you snapped, swiping at a tear that had slipped down your cheek as you quickened your pace, weaving around a nearby tree.

"I’m not going to have fun while you’re out here, lost in the forest." His voice softened, but you could hear the frustration beneath it. "Just come back with me." He kept pace with you, effortlessly moving through the trees as you tried to dodge him.

"Just leave me alone!"

"You can’t outrun me." His tone shifted, and in the next breath, he was right behind you, his presence a quiet force that made you stop in your tracks. "Just talk to me."

You rolled your eyes at his persistence. “There’s nothing to talk about, Jake.”

“C’mon, just head back with me. Everyone’s drunk no one will remember.” He rationalized.

But you’ll remember – you wanted to say.

If you had stayed calm, he’d probably be right, but you had to go and cause a whole scene. You were sure that everyone, especially Jake, would remember now.

“It’s not like it’s even true.” He continued, confidently.

You glanced up at his words, immediately regretting it as your eyes met his, even if only for a fleeting moment. You could’ve just gone with that, you could’ve lied, you could’ve brushed it off – if you hadn’t looked at him. He always had a talent for seeing right through your bullshit.

His brows and eyes softened at the realization, “…Is it true?”

You groaned, dropping your arms to your sides. Whenever strong emotions hit you, pacing was your automatic response, so that’s exactly what you did. The weight of the alcohol from the night crashed over you like a tidal wave, and suddenly, it was like a dam inside you broke wide open. Your secret was out and as humiliating as it was, it was also oddly freeing.

“Well, it’s not like I’m some prude,” you blurted out, your words tumbling out faster than you could think as you paced, the crunch of leaves beneath your sneakers punctuating each step. You turned to face him, your arms thrown wide. “It’s not like I don’t want to do those things, you know?”

“…Sure?” He responded slowly, his gaze following you with a mix of uncertainty and caution.

“I’m 22 years old of course I want to fuck!” You exclaimed and if you had been sober, you’d be mortified. “I mean I watch porn but that’s not enough. A little blue bullet and my fingers are not enough!”

Jake brown eyes widened at your confession, not just because it was jarring but because it was stirring thoughts in his head that he usually tried to fight around you.

“And for god sakes, I want to suck dick!” You threw your arms out as if you just told him something as casual as craving a slushee.

His eyebrows lifted at your statement. The visual of it alone was enough to cause a slight tightening in his pants.

“I chose that to get rid of because I just want to get it over with!” You nearly spat. It felt so liberating to get it all out in the open, to finally spill the feelings you’d been hoarding in your lonely heart.

When you met his eyes, the air between you was unexpectedly different.

“And what’s stopped you?” He asked smoothly, his voice now like velvet.

“I- uh,” Suddenly, you were flustered, and your cheeks blushed. “I-I don’t know.” Your shoulders lifted to a shrug. “I was never comfortable enough with anyone… I guess.”

He took a step towards you to which you mirrored with a step back, landing right into a tree. “Are you comfortable with me?”

Your eyes rounded at his question, “What do you mean?” Because of course, he couldn’t possibly be insinuating what you thought he was.

“Answer the question.” He replied firmly as he stepped closer. It made your tummy flutter because you’d never heard him speak like that.

“Um, yes?”

Jake knew he was walking a thin line; he shouldn’t be using this for selfish reasons. But if it was for the sake of helping you, he could set aside the way he felt about you for the moment. He was sure that if you agreed, it would be purely a transactional favor and nothing more. That it wouldn’t mean anything to you. He tried to convince himself that it wouldn’t mean anything to him either.

But, after he heard all the firsts you were missing, he was determined to be the one to provide them for you. He thought, if he couldn’t make you love him, he at least knew he’d be able to give you an experience you wouldn’t forget. Maybe he’d give you something to return to, something to think about all alone, with your hand between your legs. That thought alone was enough to satisfy something somewhere in him. If he couldn’t have all of you, at least this way he could claim one part—his choice.

“Then let me help you.” He offered simply, like he was asking to help you sweep.

“Help me what?” You questioned with furrowed brows.

“Lose your virginity.” He stepped closer until he was right in front of you, his cold breath billowing out between you both.

You blinked up at him dumbfounded as a silent war waged inside you. On one hand, you’d absolutely die at the chance of having him in that way. You’d be lying to yourself if you said there wasn’t some locked away part of your heart that always wished it would be him. Maybe you’d accidentally been waiting for him this whole time, with the hope that he’d fall in love with you somewhere along the way. But on the other hand, you were petrified of being that vulnerable with him. It’s not like he’d ever shown any interest in you before, who knew if he even found you attractive. Maybe this was just some cruel pity favor.

“I-I,” you began weakly before squaring your shoulders defiantly. “I don’t want to be some sort of charity project.”

“Does it look like I just whip out my dick for charities?” He half joked.

The comment made you giggle first before warming your cheeks at the reality of the agreement you were about to make. “No.” You shook your head at the hypothetical question.

The air between you thickened, charged with tension as your eyes locked in a silent stalemate, each of you waiting to see who would make the first move.

“You wanna suck dick?” The cashmere quality of his voice made the question sound like the most casually appealing thing in the world.

After a moment, without allowing yourself too much time to think about it, you replied, “Yes.”

“Then get on your knees.” He ordered and the authoritativeness in his tone settled a buzzing in your core.

“What? Now? Here?” You nearly shrieked. “It’s freezing cold, Jake! We’re in a forest!”

His face was stoic in a way that was almost infuriating. He was the most unbothered you’d ever seen him.

“Our friends are right there!” you protested, pointing toward the trees, though your words were just a delay tactic. With the distance and the cover of the trees between you, you knew they wouldn’t be able to see a thing.

“Do you want to suck my cock or not?”

His verbiage made your eyes nearly pop out of your head and it only worsened the wetness pooling in your panties. Wordlessly, you slowly sunk to your knees in front of him. You were silently grateful that it hadn’t snowed that day.

“I do.” You whispered, looking up at him beneath your lashes. He looked beautiful from this angle, chiseled and radiant.

“Okay then. Stop fighting me.” His voice dipping back into the Jake you’ve always known. “If you want to stop at any point, tell me, okay?” When you were a bit too overwhelmed to reply, his hand softly found your jaw to tilt it up at him. “You promise to tell me? If you can’t say anything just pat my leg, okay?”

You nodded.

“Nuh-uh, I need to hear it.” He shook his head but kept his gentle grip on your face.

“Yes.”

He leaned down to hover just above your face, “And, if something feels good, I want to hear that too.” He whispered with his eyes intently on yours before straightening back up.

You nodded again but quickly corrected yourself, “Yes.”

It was almost embarrassing how quickly you were learning to bend to him.

“Good.”

His fingers slowly began to undo his belt buckle and you were ashamed of how much your mouth was already watering. You watched his digits as they diligently worked on getting his zipper down and unfolding each side of his jeans enough. You could tell he was planning on just keeping them just below his hips, but you decided to take executive action and tug them all the way down.

“Eager, are we?” He flashed a deadly smirk that made your chest clench.

“Maybe.” You replied honestly.

“You’ve never given head before?”

You shook your head in response.

“Give me your hands.” He held out his palms to take yours in.

You complied and he took over your hands, moving them for you. He brought them to the band of his black boxer briefs and hooked your fingers into it to pull them down. Your eyes widened when his half-erection sprung from the underwear. While it wasn’t fully hard yet, it was already bigger than what you expected.

He held one of your hands palm-up in order to lean down and spit into it before bringing it to his shaft. His own hand guided yours to grip it to his desire. Your eyes met his as he began moving your hand up and down gently. Below your fingertips you could feel him hardening by the second, his veins beginning to bulge and his tip starting to swell.

You watched as his chest tightened with every movement of your hand. Once he saw that you got the hang of it, he left your hands. You continued the momentum he’d began, even pulling off to spit again to relubricate. You watched it pulse in your hand, and it made you feel powerful. He could pretend he was in charge all he wanted but when it bounced in your palm, you knew that you were the one really in control. In the obscenest way, you’d even consider it beautiful – how perfectly it was shaped and how it was duo-toned, darker pink towards the tip and paler at the base. It also had the most perfect slight curve up to it that made you wonder how that’d feel inside.

You snapped out of your daze and pumped him in your fist a couple more times before sinking it down to the base, holding it in place. You leaned forward and placed a gentle lick at his tip, causing it to bounce on your tongue and it made you smile wide. You did that to him.

When you finally placed his tip into your mouth, it nearly filled it entirely. But you persisted and slowly took him into your mouth. As you sunk down on him, he let out a low groan from the pit of his stomach. You found that to make you feel the most powerful of all. It only made you want to keep making him sound like that.

You took as much of him as you could and used your hand to stroke the part you couldn’t reach.

Unexpectedly, you felt his fingers rake through your hair, moving it away from your face. You gazed up with your mouth full of him and he looked almost drunk on you.

“Fuck,” He breathed out. “Keep looking at me like that and I won’t last much longer.”

The statement made your heart swell, even though it might’ve just been him lost in lust, the idea of him being that turned on by you made this questionable decision worth it.

You could tell that his words were true by the way his cock was twitching in your mouth. Taking it as a sign, you quickened your speed and began to let his tip land into the back of your throat. The groans that this elicited from him were heavenly and you didn’t want to stop.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He groaned, watching you with an intensity that made your skin burn. “Stop if you don’t want me to cum in your mouth.”

You decided in the moment that this was in fact the experience you asked for and you wanted the whole thing, authentically. So, you just blinked up at him, signaling that stopping wasn’t an option.

“Fuck.” He dragged out the word, letting his head fall backwards with his jaw slung open.

Not long after that, his fingers tightened in your hair and his milky release spilled into the back of your throat.

You pulled away with wide eyes up at him, he looked so fucked out with half lidded eyes. “My god.”

You winced, bracing for harsh criticism. “Oh god, was it bad?”

“Bad?!” He exclaimed. “I can’t believe that was your first time. That might’ve been the best I’ve ever had.”

The grin that pulled on your face was wide with overbearing pride. “Really?”

He leaned down and grasped your cheek the way he did before, “Yeah. You did so good.”

Out of everything you’d experienced thus far tonight, that was undoubtedly the best one yet. It filled you with a feeling like you’d do absolutely anything to hear him say that again.

Once readjusted and tucked back into his pants, he held out a hand. You took the offer and let him help you to your feet and kept you steady when you were a bit wobbly on your stiff legs. You both laughed at the interaction, feeling like normal you and Jake. It was odd to feel that way while just having him in your mouth.

Once steadied, he asked you a question that made your knees weak all over again. “Have you ever been eaten out?”

The air vacated from your lungs and by the smirk growing on his face, you took that he knew the answer already and just wanted to see you riled up.

“You’re really cute when you’re flustered.” He admitted.

Rosy pink bloomed on your cheeks, and you were exceedingly grateful for the mostly darkness surrounding you, save for the glow from the bonfire. “Shut up.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” His voice was smooth as butter again. “Has anyone ever eaten your pussy?”

The blatant wording made your clit begin to pulse. That wasn’t something you even expected would be on the table and now that it was, it was all you could think about. You shook your head with bright red cheeks.

“Nuh-uh.” His fingers went up to hold your chin in place. “I told you I need to hear it. But since you don’t want to listen, now I really want you to use your words.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to hear you say it. I want you to tell me you’ve never been eaten out before.”

Feeling a bit emboldened with a mischievous nature, you decided to one up him. “No, but I want you to eat my pussy.”  

By the way his eyes rounded it was obvious he wasn’t expecting that answer. You took it a step further. “I want you to eat my pussy and I want you inside me.”

His eyes raised a bit at your bluntness but ultimately nodded, “Okay. That can definitely be arranged.”

“Okay.” A bit of shyness began to fill your limbs like sand. A brief awkwardness fueled the air between you at the realization of what just happened and what you just said. It was a small window of clarity into what you were doing and while a part of you was ashamed, another part was on fire. You saw yourself through the glass and realized that you’d never felt more alive.

The glow from the bonfire that had once bathed the forest in warm light began to fade. You both peeked through the trees, watching as the group slowly began to douse the flames, signaling the end of the night.

“Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” he whispered, his voice low even though there was no chance anyone else could hear him. “It looks like they’re leaving the outdoor lights on for us, so we’ll wait until they all head inside and get settled in their rooms. Then, we’ll sneak in and go straight to mine, alright?”

“Okay,” you whispered back, a nervous excitement curling in your stomach.

Once the fire was completely out and the last of the group made their way indoors, Jake slipped his hand into yours, guiding you through the trees. You stifled a laugh when he stumbled over a branch, the sound of his quick, “Shut up,” making you giggle even more. Halfway through your journey is when you realized your hands were tied and it made your heart flutter.

In that moment, you felt like a teenager again—sneaking back into your house, adrenaline racing through your veins as if you were getting away with something you weren’t supposed to. The excitement, the secrecy—it was almost intoxicating.

The path to Jake’s room felt like something out of a late-night adventure, every step echoing too loudly in the stillness of the house. Once inside his room, you pressed your body against the door to shut it quietly, the tension of your movements almost comical. As soon as it clicked into place, both of you burst into laughter, doing your best to stifle the sound so the others wouldn’t hear.

Everything felt so ridiculous—sneaking around like this, hiding something that, in the grand scheme of things, felt so absurdly trivial. That this was all about him helping you lose your virginity, of all things, made it even more surreal.

The giggles faded the second your eyes met. Before you could overthink anything, he took your face in his hands and pulled you into a kiss. As cliché as it was, it felt magical, like sparkles spiraling themselves around you. It was everything you’d ever dreamed it’d be. He felt amazing against your numbing lips.

He pulled away just enough to catch your eyes again. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked earnestly.

“Yes. Definitely yes.” You confirmed. While you were still drunk you knew you would never have the courage to do this sober. There was no way you’d regret the courage the alcohol was supplying you.

His eyes darted across your face and his thumb swiped across your bottom lip. “And this is okay?”

“Absolutely.” You breathed out as he leaned back in to meet your lips again.

The kiss quickly deepened, entwining your tongues in a heated dance. Your hands immediately found his flannel, nearly tearing it off of him. He helped you by flinging it off his arms to the ground without parting from you, but your hands were already trying to pry his shirt off.

He parted from you with a devious smile as he tugged the band tee over his head. “God, you’re impatient.” He chuckled and used his finger to tilt your chin up so he could kiss you. “Can I take something off you?”

Pink tinted your cheeks at the question. “Sure.” You shrugged. “I won’t be nearly as impressive as you.”

He scoffed at your words, “You’re fucking insane if you think that.” His fingers found the hem of your hoodie indicating that he wanted it off.

Your eyes widened when you remembered just how little you actually had on. “I um, I’m not wearing a shirt….or a bra.”

His eyes flickered up to yours, “You’ve been braless all night?”

You dug your teeth into your bottom lip and nodded.

“Fuck that’s hot.” He muttered and paused before beginning to lift the hoodie over your head. Your nipples pebbled the second the cold air hit them. You thought you’d be significantly more self-conscious about them but by the way he was looking at you as if you were a full course meal, you felt almost confident.

His hands slid down your bare sides, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. “God, I need to taste you, like,” he swiftly guided you towards the bed. “Like right now.”

You took that as a sign to sit down where he set you. He softly guided you into a more proper position, laying you down flat with your legs dangling off the bed. His lips found your neck and you thought you might even be able to cum just from the way he nipped and sucked at your skin. Your hand tangled into his long hair, tipping his beanie off his head and you tossed it to the ground. “Jake.” You breathed out in an attempt to get his attention. “Jake.” You repeated, more sternly this time. “Jake you can’t leave a mark on me.” Your voice came out shakey and quiet.

“And why not?” He countered, popping his head back up.

“You know why.” You sighed. “They’ll know.”

A smirk tugged at one edge of his lips, “So? I don’t care if they know.”

“Jakey it’s embarrassing!” You squealed.

“Okay okay.” He relented with a smile, pressing a gentle kiss below your ear. “I’ll just give you ones they can’t see.”

He trailed down your skin, smirking into each small kiss knowing how flustered he was making you. His lips landed on your breast and did something you didn’t expect – he took your nipple into his mouth and began to lick at it. “Oh.” Your eyes widened at the sensation. Between this and the work he’d left on your neck, your panties were soaked with anticipation. Your hand curled in his hair as his hand found your other breast and began to knead the flesh in his fingers. The feeling of it all was foreign but incredibly delightful.

He pulled off your nipple with a pop and with eyes so full of lust, “I’m going to eat your pussy now.” He informed you. He pressed open mouth kisses down your torso, taking extra time to suck marks into your hipbones.

Finally, he sunk to his knees in front of you and helped you out of your leggings until you were finally completely bare to him.

His eyes were fixated on your core like he was in a trance. “Can I touch you?”

“Have you not been touching me this whole time?” You asked rhetorically, propping yourself on your elbows.

“Just making sure.” He pressed a kiss to your thigh without his eyes leaving your cunt. Slowly, he made his way up your thigh until he was pulling you to the very edge with both arms. His fingers experimentally spread you open. “Fuck. You’re so fucking wet.”

Your cheeks heated red hot at the comment. “Shut u-” you went silent when you felt his tongue meet your cunt. It began at your entrance and moved its way up to your aching bud, lapping up all your wetness. “Oh.” You all but moaned.

His tongue expertly began rolling against your clit in a soft rhythm. It was by far the most pleasurable thing you’d ever felt. If you had been sober, you would’ve been so caught up in your head about so many things, but drunk you was only concerned about feeling good.

You let out a moan when he started making ‘S’ patterns against your buzzing clit. The sound made him buffer and let out a moan against you in return. The vibrations of his groan nudged you towards your edge. It was a little embarrassing how quickly he was able to get you there. Your hand plunged into his hair, grabbing hold of it. “Jake, I think- oh, oh.”

He did a small nod against you, indicating that he understood. His hand gave your thigh a small squeeze urging you on. His speed increased marginally, just enough to tip you over. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your volume increased which made you grab a pillow to expel your noises into. Your thighs clamped around his head as you felt yourself let go. Electricity sparked across your entire body, filling it with a feeling you’ve only ever felt alone. It was a vastly different experience climaxing by the hand of another person. You never wanted the moment to end but you soon felt yourself returning back to earth.

Jake tapered off of you slowly then made his way up to your face. He gently took the pillow from your grasp, revealing his smiling face. Rosy pink tinted your cheeks at the sight of his face covered in your slick. He smiled as if he’d just won some competition. “You tasted fucking delicious, I could eat you all fucking day.”

You could’ve playfully hit his arm and told him to shut up but your fucked out brain only had one thing in mind. Your hands scrambled to his belt buckle beginning to undo it. Your glossy eyes looked up at his surprised ones. “I need your cock.”

“Okay, okay, slow down.” He chuckled at your hasty actions. His hands found yours to slow them. “There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

You nodded bashfully. “Okay.”

He allowed you to continue on your plight of stripping him from his belt, hissing it through the loops of his pants, then tossing it to the floor. “Should I get a condom?”

“You have a condom?”

He shrugged, “I keep one in my wallet.”

You mulled it over, it was probably the smart thing to do, but you wanted the full experience. You shook your head, “Don’t need it. I’m on birth control.”

“Okay.” He confirmed, slowly peeling himself out of his dark skinny jeans. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the sight of him this way. The least you’d ever seen him in were swim trunks and this was about to be so much better than that. He slowly pulled his boxer briefs down past his hips, letting his length spring free. Compared to in the forest, this time he was hard enough for it to smack his lower tummy. It was even better in the light instead of the faintly lit wilderness. You figured this would be a one-time thing between the two of you, but the thought of never having this again with him was almost excruciating. Thoughts of what tomorrow would look like for both of you began to creep in, but you quickly shelved them. That was a problem for tomorrow-you, right now-you was about to lose your virginity to the boy you’d been in love with since 5th grade. He may not love you back but in this moment you didn’t care. Tonight would forever live as an anomaly in your heart.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt him brush his tip between your folds. “This might hurt.” He warned. “I’ll go slow but if you need me to stop, just tell me, okay?”

You took a deep inhale and nodded. Carefully, he aligned himself with your entrance and pushed his head in. He was right, it did hurt, more than you had anticipated. It didn’t help that he was quite large, definitely larger than average. “Breathe for me, okay?” His hand soothed your hip, giving it a little squeeze.

You blinked the burning from your eyes and took a deep inhale as he continued to push into you. It felt what you imagined what being torn in half would be like, your body being ripped apart from your most sensitive part.

“How does that feel?” He asked curiously, seeing the wince on your face.

“Painful.” You exhaled, “Full.”

“Oh,” His voice was both cautious yet smug. “I’m nowhere near done filling you up.”

Your eyes widened at his statement and while it was terrifying it was also thrilling. You could feel the flesh of your walls part for him, you felt all of him in great detail. He finally bottomed out, careful to not jam himself into your cervix.

Blinking at the ceiling, you processed everything you were experiencing. You took a mental picture of the moment, even though it was incredibly uncomfortable, it was exactly what you’d asked for. It was a moment you’d remember for the rest of your life. You’d forever compare any sexual experience to this moment. You were suddenly grateful for the events of the night – while they had been exceptionally humiliating, it led you straight to this. You didn’t lose your virginity to a random boy; you lost it to your best friend. You lost it to Jake. You gave it to Jake.

His gentle hand on your side grounded you, “You okay?” He asked softly.

You smiled genuinely at him, “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

“Good.” He mirrored your authentic grin. “I’m gonna move now, okay?”

You nodded and laid your head back down. His hips began to slide in and out of you incredibly slow, just to let you get comfortable with the sensation. After the 3rd or 4th thrust, the burn started to feel good. Then as he sped up marginally, it started to feel really good.

“Oh.” You said absentmindedly, letting your thought spill from your lips.

He smirked and ran his hand up your thigh. “That feel good baby?”

Baby?

You weren’t about to dissect that now.

“Uh-huh.” You breathed out, leaving your focus from the ceiling to meet his face. “Feels really good.”

“Good, good.” He softly lifted your knee up and placed a chaste kiss there. “Now, you told me you watch porn?” He asked and it shocked you right back into reality.

“…Yeah?”

“So, you touch yourself while you watch?”

Your eyes widened, though you shouldn’t be embarrassed, you offered that information up to him. “Yeah?”

His hand went up and tenderly picked up your hand, bringing it to your center. “Show me.”

You blinked at him, that being the last thing you ever expected him to say. He picked up on your hesitation and clarified further. “It’ll help. It’ll make it better.”

While you knew it was the truth, being in the spotlight was little intimidating. But you did as he asked and began using two fingers to roll circles into your clit, just like you did alone. And he was right, suddenly everything intensified and became significantly more pleasurable. The sensation made you wetter which eased the process of him fucking you.

He intently watched your hand work on yourself, “Fuck.”

The moment quickly moved into a more comfortable yet heated rhythm. It was clear that once he knew you were feeling good, that he let himself get lost in you. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groaned and you remembered just how heavenly the sound was.

You felt a knot begin to form in your lower belly and you knew you were close already. With the way his brows were curved up and his head thrown back, you could tell he was near his end too.

“Jake, I’m close.” You informed quietly, barely hanging on.

“Me too, baby.”

There it was again – baby – perhaps he just let it slip, maybe he called everyone baby during sex. Either way, you couldn’t help the way it made your heart swell in your chest.

You closed your eyes and focused on the feeling growing beneath your fingertips. You’d never came with something inside you before and it made you a little nervous to find out what it would feel like.

“C’mon baby, cum all over my cock, will you?” His voice smooth and caring which was in vast contrast to how he was drilling into you and the words he was saying. But it was enough to cause the knot in your belly to snap.

White hot euphoria washed over you, filling your entire body with static buzzing that felt immaculate. The feeling of his cock filling you up while you pulsed around him was one of the best things you’d ever felt. You weren’t sure how you’d ever be able to live without him filling you up completely.

Shortly after, you felt him throb and twitch inside you, filling you with a warmth you’d never felt before. It was vaguely comforting and satisfying.

He stayed like that for a moment, letting you both come down slowly. When he pulled from you, he left you with an emptiness like never before. You didn’t feel whole anymore without him inside you. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Let me clean you up.”

You nodded weakly, feeling exhausted.

He rummaged around and found a towel he was planning to use for a morning shower. In the gentlest manner, he spread your legs open but hesitated before bringing the towel to your core.

“Something wrong?” You lifted up on your elbows.

A shy smirk graced his lips and shook his head. “Just, you look so good being so full of me.”

Peach coated your cheeks at his statement, but you were too overwhelmed to respond.

He carefully used the towel to wipe you clean as best he could before cleaning himself off and tossing it aside. You watched him go into his suitcase and pull out a shirt and sleep pants. When he handed them to you, you blinked in surprise, your cheeks warming at the unexpected gesture. “Thanks,” you murmured, clutching the clothes to your chest. He nodded, already pulling out his own sleepwear to change.

The two of you changed in comfortable silence, the tension from earlier replaced by something softer, more intimate. Selfishly, you didn’t want the moment to end, so you lingered. Settling onto the corner of the bed where the walls met, you wrapped your arms around your knees, sitting quietly, almost shyly.

As if he had expected you to stay, Jake climbed into the bed and slid over to your corner. Without a word, he opened his arms in invitation. The unspoken warmth in his gesture made your heart ache, and you didn’t hesitate to lean into him. Nestling yourself into his chest beneath the covers, you let his body’s warmth melt away the night’s leftover tension.

For a while, neither of you spoke, the silence between you comfortable and steady. Then, his voice broke the stillness, soft but filled with something vulnerable. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

You tilted your head up, furrowing your brows in confusion. “Fuck me?”

His laugh was quiet but genuine. “Kiss you,” he corrected, though his lips curled into a teasing smirk. “And, well... yeah, that too.”

Your stomach flipped and your gaze narrowed slightly as you studied his expression, wondering if this was some sort of twisted prank. “You wanted to kiss me?”

Now it was his turn to blush. His cheeks tinted a faint pink as he nodded. “Yeah. For a long time.”

You stared at him, still trying to make sense of it. “I’ve wanted to kiss you,” you admitted, though your voice was soft and hesitant, the words feeling like a secret you weren’t sure you should share.

His eyebrows lifted, surprise flickering across his face. “You have?”

Biting your bottom lip, you nodded, suddenly feeling nervous under his gaze. “Yeah.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the mutual confessions hanging in the air. Then Jake’s hand found yours under the covers, his fingers brushing softly against your palm before curling around it. “Guess we’ve been idiots for a while then, huh?”

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth in his voice making your chest ache in the best way. “Yeah,” you said, settling back against him. “I guess we have.”

For a moment, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you, tucked away beneath the covers. The weight of your confessions hung between you like a fragile, shimmering thread, and all at once, the space between you felt much, much smaller.

You caught a wide grin pull at his lips before nudging you lightly. “So… does that mean you had a good time?”

You laughed and nudged his chest in return. “Was it not obvious?”

His chuckle was warm and teasing. “No, it was definitely obvious.”

“Shush,” you murmured, curling back into his chest and letting his heat seep into you. “I don’t want to leave here,” you whispered, the words carrying more weight than you intended.

His arm wrapped around you, tugging you closer. “Then don’t.”

“But the others… in the morning.” You mumbled, toying with a loose string on his shirt.

“What about them?”

“They’ll know.” You frowned, assuming he wouldn’t want them to find out.

He chuckled as he started tracing circles on your back. “They already know how I feel about you silly.”

Your eyes snapped up at him with knitted brows. “What?”

His gaze softened as he met your confusion with a small laugh. “Star, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who doesn’t know.”

Bright red heat bloomed across your cheeks, and you groaned, burying your face in the crook of his arm. “Am I really that oblivious?”

Jake laughed again, a deep, genuine sound that made your chest feel impossibly full. “You’re definitely that oblivious.”

Before you could summon a reply, a sleepy yawn escaped your lips, cutting off any protest. Jake’s hand on your back stilled, shifting to a soothing rhythm. “We’ll talk more in the morning, okay?” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

The weight of his warmth, his words, and the steady beat of his heart lulled you further into comfort. “It’s been a long night. Let’s just get some sleep,” he added softly.

The sound of his voice, paired with the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing, was enough to quiet your thoughts. You snuggled deeper into his arms, feeling more at peace than you had in a long time. And as sleep pulled you under, you couldn’t help but feel a tiny spark of hope flicker in your chest for what this all meant for the two of you.

The morning light filtered softly through the blinds, and you stirred awake before Jake did. His arm was still draped over you, heavy with sleep. For a moment, you just stayed there, your head nestled against his chest, listening to his even breathing. But as the hazy comfort gave way to clarity, reality hit—you needed to change. The thought of anyone catching you leaving his room in his clothes was mortifying. You reached over and tapped to wake the screen of his phone to check the time and found it to be way earlier than any of them usually wake up.

Carefully, you slipped out from under his arm, trying not to disturb him. Jake mumbled something incoherent but didn’t wake, and you smiled softly at his peaceful expression before tiptoeing to the door. Once outside, you made a beeline for your own room, keeping your head down to avoid any potential early risers.

Unfortunately, luck was not on your side. You turned the corner and collided directly with Josh, who was strolling the hallway in his robe, a mug of tea in hand.

“Star!” he exclaimed, his grin wide and immediate. “You’re okay!”

Your cheeks flamed as you smiled sheepishly, awkwardly thumbing over your shoulder. “Yeah, Jake helped me.”

Josh’s grin morphed into something much more mischievous as his gaze drifted over your borrowed sleepwear. The smirk on his lips was nothing short of wicked. “Oh, I’m sure he did.”

Your face burned brighter, and you sputtered, “It’s not—it’s not like that!”

Josh raised a brow, his expression practically screaming that he didn’t believe you. “Mmhmm,” he said, drawing out the sound with exaggerated suspicion. “So, you just happened to end up in his clothes? After sneaking back inside together last night?”

“I—uh—” You struggled for an explanation, but Josh was already enjoying your discomfort far too much.

“Relax, Star,” he said, chuckling as he sipped his tea. “I’m just messing with you. Well… mostly.” He winked before stepping aside, leaving you standing there flustered and mortified.

As you hurried back to your room, you couldn’t help but groan internally. You knew Josh wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon. And worse, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the smirk on his face would spread to the rest of the group before breakfast was even over.

But despite the overwhelming embarrassment that flushed through you in waves, something else lingered beneath it—a warmth that wrapped around your chest and made your heart beat just a little faster. You couldn’t deny the spark that had ignited between you and Jake, or how it made you feel both giddy and alive. The night had been raw, vulnerable, and thrilling—far more than you'd ever expected, but not a single moment of it felt like a mistake. You were scared, sure, but a part of you was also eager for what came next. There were still a lot of unknowns—what it meant for you and Jake, what your friends would say—but deep down, you knew you’d never regret what had happened. If anything, it was a new beginning, and despite everything, you felt a strange sense of peace with that.

A/N; thanks for reading! i’d love to know your thoughts 🩷

Comment or send an ask to be added to any future taglists 🩷

[rhapsodynew]

#memorial day

On November 29, 2001, the "silent Beatle" left this world. In memory of George Harrison, let's recall some interesting facts from his life.

George Harrison: A nostalgic and instructive interview.

Interview with Crawdaddy magazine

Question: “Were you nervous before the Beatles debuted in 1964 on the Ed Sullivan show?”

GEORGE: “Sullivan's show was funny because I didn't attend the rehearsal. I got sick during the flight during my first trip to the States. The band also played a lot of songs at rehearsals for sound engineers, they kept coming into the control room and checking the sound. And finally, when they found a balance between instruments and vocals, they noted it on the mixing console, and then everyone went to lunch. Then we came back to record the show on tape, and the cleaners had already been here and erased all the marks from the remote. In those days, the sound was somehow handled carelessly. Amplifiers, for example, were placed to the side of the stage so that it would not spoil the frame, you know.”

• After the Beatles' first visit to the USA, they became the most famous people on the planet - an inside look

“For the Beatles at that time, it was a great help: if someone ran out of press conferences, there was always someone else with a smart answer. There was always a reasonable balance, so no one could ever really pin us down.”

George Harrison is inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (2004)

“For the first time, the most depressing moment came for me during the ‘White Album’. The problem was with making a double album because it takes so long.”

The Beatles were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (1988)

Q: “Why did you make a double?”

GEORGE: “I think it was because there were so many songs, but it was a period that started a little bit negatively. It was a bit difficult, but we got through it and everything was fine. We finally finished working on the album, and everyone was happy because the tracks were not bad. There were just too many restrictions based on the fact that we had been together for so long. Everyone was kind of imprisoned. It was unpleasant.”

“The problem was that John and Paul had been writing songs together for so long that it was difficult - primarily because they had so many tunes and they automatically thought their songs should be a priority. As for me, I always had to wait for them to record ten of their own songs before they even listened to one of mine.”

“‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps’ we were recording one night and there was such a lack of enthusiasm. So I came home very disappointed because I knew the song was good. The next day, I brought Eric Clapton with me. He was really nervous. I told: ‘Just come and play in the session, then I can sing and play the acoustic guitar.’”

“Paul always helped when you first performed his ten songs, and then when he started performing one of my songs, he helped. It was stupid. In fact, it was very selfish. Sometimes Paul would make us perform these really sugary songs. I mean, God forbid, ‘Maxwell's Silver Hammer’ was so cloying. After a while we worked on it well, but when Paul came up with an idea or arrangement… But Paul is still really writing for a 14-year-old audience right now.”

“I remember coming from California and shooting this piece for a film about Ravi Shankar's life called ‘Raga’, and I had a sitar. And we stayed in New York and checked into a hotel, and Jimi Hendrix and Eric Clapton were both in the same hotel. And that was the last time I really played the sitar like that. We hung out so much at that time, and Eric gave me a fantastic Les Paul guitar that he plays at that concert.”

“I helped so much with all the arrangements. Although there were a lot of tracks where I played the bass. Paul played lead guitar in ‘Taxman’, and he played guitar - the best part - in ‘Drive My Car’.”

Q: “Did you play the bass?”

GEORGE: “No, I didn't play. What did Paul usually do if he wrote a song? He would learn all his parts, and then he would come into the studio and say, ‘Do this.’ He would never have given you the opportunity to take the initiative. But on ‘Drive My Car,’ I just played a line that's really kind of a lick off of ‘Respect’ - you know, the Otis Redding version - and I played that line on guitar, and Paul recorded it with me on bass.”

Q: “Which Beatles album are you still listening to?”

GEORGE: “I loved when we worked on ‘Rubber Soul’, ‘Revolver'. There was something good in each album, and they developed. There were albums that, from my point of view, were no good, like ‘Yellow Submarine’.”

“We put all the songs together in album form - now I'm talking about English albums, because in the States, as we later discovered, for every two albums we had, they (Capitol) made three... because we included fourteen tracks in the album, and we also had singles that were not included in albums at that time. And they put in singles, took out a bunch of tracks, changed the order, and then made new compilations, like ‘Yesterday And Today’ - just terrible compilations.”

Q: “Was it difficult with the rest of the band when you started getting into Indian music?”

GEORGE: “Not really. They weren't really that interested. When I first met Ravi (Shankar), he played a private concert right at my house, and he came with Alla Rakha, and John and Ringo came to listen. I remember Ringo didn't want to know anything about tabla because it just seemed so far away from him.”

Q: “The whole Beatles image has been cleaned up and smoothed, which is always credited to Brian Epstein.”

GEORGE:

“In the Hamburg days, we had to play for a long time and burn out to the fullest, jump around the stage, foam at the mouth and do anything.”

Q: “Have you received any feedback from John or Ringo or anyone else-congratulations?”

GEORGE:

“I remember John was very negative at the time, but I was away, and he came to my house, and my friend lived there, who was also John's friend. He saw the album cover and said, ‘He must be pretty damn bad to have released three records. And look at the front photo, he looks like an asthmatic Leon Russell.’ There was a lot of negativity. You know... Ringo played on almost the entire album. I don't care about that. To hell with all this-we've been through this before. I felt that no matter what happened, whether it was a failure or a success, I would act on my own, just to get some peace of mind.”

Q: ”They say he was...”

GEORGE:

“Well, you know, John has experienced more negative events than I have with the Maharishi. Now I see much more clearly what happened, and a lot of it was due to ignorance. Maharishi was great, and I admire him, as well as Prabhupada, for being able, despite all the ridicule, to just keep moving forward. And now more and more people - especially in the United States - are following the teachings. And in the 60s, they laughed at us and said it was stupid. All those people influenced me, and I tried to get the most out of them without getting a spiritual twist of the guts.”

George's favorite color was purple. The musician loved Formula 1 racing, egg sandwiches, watched the TV show "Monty Python's Flying Circus", and his favorite movie was "The Producers" (1968) by Mel Brooks.

For most of his career and life, George considered his birthday to be February 25th, 1943. Many books about The Beatles and Harrison indicate this date. However, shortly before his death, George said that, in fact, he was born on February 24. The family document shows that the musician was born on February 24 at 23-50

George officially joined The Quarrymen on February 6, 1958, when he was 14 years old. During a tour of Scotland in 1960, the musician briefly changed his name to "Carl Harrison" (in honor of his idol, Carl Perkins).

George became the author of a slang word that entered English dictionaries. In the movie "The Evening of a Hard Day" (1964), he used the word grotty to describe some items of clothing. Grotty (from the word grotesque — grotesque) became a popular slang word of the 1960s era. It is still used today, although much less often than before

Harrison was "the best actor from The Beatles." At least, according to Richard Lester, the director of the films "Hard Day's Evening" and "Help!". Richard called George the most capable actor of the Liverpool four. According to the director, in the "Evening of a Difficult Day" the guitarist was the highlight of every scene he participated in.

George was the first "Beatle" whose solo composition reached the highest position in the national charts — this achievement was achieved by My Sweet Lord in December 1970

A versatile musician, George played 26 different instruments. Any Beatles fan knows about his talents in playing guitar and sitar, but Harrison has also achieved considerable success in studying instruments such as conga, African drum, xylophone, violin, harmonica, marimba, metallophone, ukulele, sarangi.

Harrison once spent $4 million "to watch a movie." When the Monty Python comic group began to have problems financing their film The Life of Brian, George actually mortgaged his house to help the artists with money. He said he did it simply because he "wanted to see the movie." According to Monty Python contributor Eric Idle, this is still the largest amount anyone has paid for the opportunity to watch a movie.

As we all know, George died in 2001, the cause of death was a malignant brain tumor. His mother, Louise, died prematurely due to the same disease in 1970. George wrote the song Deep Blue in her honor. The musician's father, Harold Harrison, died of cancer in 1978, on the night of his death, George and his wife Olivia woke up and both saw the color blue. Afterwards, they testified that they had seen Harold's ghost smiling at them.

"We could save the world with our love."

"The world is a birthday cake. Take a piece, but don't be greedy.".....

[catghoul31]

Those Damned Claws

Logan's lived with the consequences of almost never using his claws until recently for decades now. Some days are worse than others, but Wade has been a huge help recently.

If only they weren't both having a "worse day" today.

(for @poolverine-week Day 5: Chronic Pain)

Content Warnings: PTSD memories, implied suicidal thoughts

Read it under the cut, or on ao3!

Upon walking into their apartment, Logan rubbed between the knuckles of the hand that had just grabbed the doorknob, right where three red sore spots throbbed uncomfortably. It was yet another day for him where, however painful it was, his claws just wouldn’t retract all the way...

“Whiskey dick of the claws,” Wade called it when they first met- and every single time the claws would barely poke out- but it was more than that. For years after he’d exhausted the last of his furious energy, killed the last anti-mutant bastard in that horrible haze of his for whatever reason- could’ve been anything from destroying the X-Mansion to looking at him wrong, those claws had been firmly sheathed within him. Once he’d fucked up his own world, he had to keep any sign of his mutation firmly locked inside of him. They couldn’t kill him, but they’d sure as hell try if he ever attempted to be anything resembling who he was again. Better to keep his head down and live out the rest of his days as a social pariah.

So when Wade had taken him away from his universe, changed his life forever, he noticed just how much they’d started to hurt. It had always stung somewhat, even when he was using them regularly, but he’d always shrugged it off- it felt like nothing more than a pinprick back then. Since he’d gone so long without using them, though, it wasn’t uncommon for him to go days just dealing with their pointy adamantium tips constantly scraping against his knuckles, begging to be released in spite of how hard his mind berated him for even thinking of using them…

Logan’s most painful days always brought with them an incredibly loud mind. There was nothing to be ashamed of anymore- that’s what Wade had told him, now that he lived here- but the screams, the voices, the shouts of you killed them and why won’t you just die echoed through his head ceaselessly. Sliding onto the couch with a groaning sigh, he put his face in his hands, wishing anything could feel real right now besides the memories and the pain.

Dogpool trotted up and bumped into Logan’s leg, hopping up to try and get his attention. He didn’t even notice, as another image flashed through his mind of a pair of innocent, terrified eyes, silently begging the bloodied Wolverine to spare his life. He knew that moment like it was yesterday. He knew how it ended. How every single one of those memories always ended.

…He needed a drink. Now.

Abruptly standing up, he staggered over to the fridge, begging for there to be anything inside that would help the voices stop- only to be met with the sight of Wade sticking his head in the freezer. Logan thought the beeps he’d been hearing ever since he’d gotten home had been his imagination, but lo and behold, he heard them again. Much closer now, as the noise was coming from the freezer begging Wade to close the door already. He took a short look at him, immensely concerned by what he saw- dark bags under his eyes, skin way too red in some spots and ghostly pale in others, and a concerning amount of crusted bodily fluids surrounding his eyes, nostrils, and mouth. He was staring straight forward, not looking for anything, but definitely making no move to keep the contents inside from defrosting.

Well, this was just fantastic… Logan was having a shit day, and so was Wade. They were both in incredible amounts of pain thanks to their dumb mutant bodies… okay, Wade’s body was only dumb because it hurt him, but still- it looked like they both had shitty luck today. He tried to talk to Wade, but was interrupted by the freezer beeping again. 

“…Need some help, bub?” he asked, his voice strained since it even hurt to move his jaw at this point- god, fuck his metal bones. Wade instantly staggered back, the door closing on its own when he left it alone. Logan couldn’t help but notice his stench, which was way stronger than usual. It would've been repulsive, if it wasn’t coming from someone he loved dearly.

“Shit- you scared me, peanut!!” Wade chuckled, almost immediately devolving into coughs as his shaky legs collapsed underneath him. Logan immediately moved to try and help him up, but grunted loudly as his knees and hips screamed at him for even thinking about it, and-

Now they were both on the floor. Logan was gazing at Wade apologetically, noticing now that the “crust” around his eyes and nose was ice- how fucking long had Wade been in that freezer?? And why hadn’t he let him know how bad today had gotten for him? He would’ve come home immediately, done whatever he could- and now he couldn’t do anything.

“…Sorry if I’m not much for talk this evening. My body kinda feels like Satan’s asshole right now!” Wade croaked, and- yeah, Logan saw it, that was a concerning amount of sweat to be pouring down the face of someone who just got done living in the fucking freezer.

“You’re on death’s door, and you’re worried about not running your mouth as much as you usually do…” Logan wasn’t even a little surprised. He knew very well that Wade didn’t give a fuck about his body… He sure as shit didn’t like seeing it, but he knew.

“I’m the merc with a mouth, honey!! How can I…” Wade lapsed for a moment, clearly on the verge of passing out. “…I gotta do my job! I’m not a super-popular anti-hero because of how sick I am, I gotta get back to-“

“You aren’t doin’ shit, Wade.”

Wade’s eyes narrowed at Logan for a moment, looking quite disappointed. Maybe even annoyed? It didn’t matter. Logan wasn’t budging, and he was sure his boyfriend knew it. “…What’re you doing on the floor with me, peanut? How are you gonna stop me from getting up and killing someone right now, huh? Someone… someone drank a little too much b-bone hurting juice today-“

“Bub… Stop talking, holy fuck,” Logan groaned, trying to move his hand as close to Wade as he could manage. “I don’t need to stop you. If you’re having trouble yapping, you’re definitely not doing any of that-”

Wade was pointing at his clenched fist, snickering weakly. He swore, if it was because those god damn claws of his-

“Y’got boner claws, Logi-bear,” he teased, giving him half a mind to force them out all the way and shove them into his torso.

Despite the deep frown on his face- which only made Wade chuckle a bit more, resulting in another harrowingly loud coughing fit- the other half of Logan’s mind knew he’d feel really bad if he made him hurt any more than he already did. What kind of boyfriend stabbed their partner- when they were sick, no less?? It reminded him way too much of how he used to be in his world, a habit he was trying desperately to break, and he couldn’t stand-

“Actually… while I’m thinking about it, could you just stab me in the stomach with those real quick? I promise I’m onto something here!!”

The world was playing a cruel, awful joke on Logan right now, wasn’t it.

“…The fuck?? No!” Logan grunted, bringing his fist back to his body with a wince, forcing the tips of his claws back in- as painful as it was. It was almost like his body was too exhausted to keep them retracted, like it wanted to fight back against the nonexistent enemy causing him this much pain. But there wasn’t any way on this goddamn earth he’d stab someone over it, let alone Wade. It didn’t matter if he wanted to… he loved him more than he’d ever loved anybody. Why would he do that?

Unfortunately, Wade had come armed with reasons. “Babe, hear me out!! I’ve eyed the pistol I keep on my nightstand, like, five times today-“

“What the fuck, Wade??”

“-and it’s because if part of my body gets severely injured, my healing factor has something else to focus on besides killing all my cells for no reason!! Well- there is a reason, they’re all cancer- but the only reason I didn’t was because I didn’t want you to come home and find me dead! It’s… I promise it’ll work.” As he explained himself, Wade was writhing painfully on the floor, gripping different parts of his torso like they just exploded or something-

Logan had always been frustrated whenever Wade got like this. Not at Wade- never at Wade- but at the fact that there was nothing he could do besides watch him suffer. His own pain wasn’t helping Logan think rationally about this- he needed Wade to stop hurting before he could focus on himself, and if he honestly wasn’t fucking with him- but he was… so tired of hurting people. He didn’t know if he could handle it.

Wade took his clenched fist, and to Logan’s absolute horror, moved it right to his chest, where every single one of his vital organs were. Without realizing it, he whined desperately, trying to look away- every ache in his body made those claws of his want to spring out even more, and…

“Please, Wolvie. I’d rather it be you inside me than a bullet, anyways! I know you gotta use your claws right now anyways-“ of course he did, of fucking course he did- “so… please?”

Immediately, Wade was impaled. Logan’s eyes screwed shut, tears filling them as he tried to ignore the scream that ripped through his throat, even with all the joking and profanity that followed- all he could focus on was how much blood he would see if his eyes dared to open. There was no way he could bring himself to look right now… not with his mind screaming KILLER, MURDERER, LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE-

“… Mggh - gah! Fucking… there we go. Just enough bloodshed for me to…” Wade had pulled himself off his claws carefully, waiting for the wounds to close before standing up. Logan didn’t notice, too busy trapped in the memories that wouldn’t leave, hearing screams of long-dead people, begging for Wade’s voice not to join them.

His exposed arm, with his claws still unsheathed, was grabbed, and Wade pulled hard, dragging him across the floor. Logan could still smell blood, it wasn’t safe to open his eyes yet, and he didn’t care about anything Wade was doing to him right now- he had every right to fling him over the roof, in his book.

But of course Wade didn’t do that. Because, for some god-forsaken reason, he loved him. Loved him enough to fling his entire body onto the couch, as much as the panting he heard had him entirely concerned for his well-being. The freezer opened again, and Logan would’ve told him not to start living in it again if his mind was a little quieter.

Thankfully, Wade came back after a reasonable amount of time, and Logan finally opened his eyes as he felt cold packs being draped over almost every single one of his joints. Soon after, Wade’s eyes met his, shimmering with concern, love, and… illness, obviously, and they came even closer when he unceremoniously fell on top of Logan, making him yelp in surprise.

“Wade, you…” Logan sighed, wishing he could move his hands somehow without hurting Logan. “…Don’t do that. Don’t hurt yourself- not for my sake, please-“

“Sweetie pumpkin. That helped me… and it helped you! You just helped both of us, alright? Pinky promise,” Wade whispered roughly, wrapping his pinky around Logan’s without a single fuck given about the claws that were within inches of it. And… he was getting comfortable here. No way Logan could get him off without putting up a fight…

Good thing he really didn’t want to. Not with how warm he felt, how the comfort settled into his bones and convinced a tiny part of his brain that maybe, tomorrow morning, everything would be okay.

“Love ya, peanut,” Wade sighed, his voice almost imperceptible with how muffled it was by Logan’s chest.

“…I love you too, Wade. I love you so much…”

Logan wanted to retract his claws, hold Wade as close as possible- but they felt better out right now, and it’d probably be like that until they woke up. His eyes were drooping- and Wade was way ahead of him, having already completely passed out on top of him- and he willed himself not to give in to the urge to stay awake, protect Wade at all costs because there would always be something in the shadows waiting to steal the ones he loved from under his nose-

But the only blood he smelled in this house was Wade’s. And none of it was being spilled right now…

He was here. He was alive. He was breathing- snoring- on top of him, and however badly he felt right now, he would recover.

They both would.

[me-is-obsessed]

Mastermind - jegulus microfic - 369 words

Regulus had been watching James ever since his friends began going out to a club with his brother and his friends every Friday. Every Friday, James sat in the corner of the room, nursing a soda of some sort, since he didn't drink, while his friends got drunk and danced.

It always took Peter (while Sirius and Remus were off dancing together) forever to convince the other man to get on the dance floor.

He groaned, he grumbled, he planted his feet, he shook his head. Every week, James really did not want to dance. But Peter always got him on the dance floor, and that was when Regulus really couldn't look away.

James danced, completely sober, like the most incredible-looking human ever to exist. (He was.) He swayed his hips, he rubbed his hands along the sides of his body, always looking like an absolute angel even while dancing in such an unholy way.

Tonight, Regulus was doing something about it. He knew that going after his brother's best friend might be bad, but today he needed to kiss James, or he would simply combust.

He wore his best pair of pants, soft black fabric with two white star patches on the butt, and a fitted black T-shirt with star cutouts all over it, that showed almost as much skin as it covered.

He didn't drink, he wanted to make sure he was thinking completely clearly for whatever happened. He made sure to dance right in James' eye line, swaying his hips and dancing just as he had watched James dance many, many times.

And finally, finally, James came walking over, a look in his eyes that Regulus couldn't quite place.

"Hey, Reg," the taller boy said, sounding a little nervous. "Can I kiss you? Just for a second, you're kinda killing me over here. We can go back to normal right after, I promise."

"Mhm, don't want that to happen. Let's kiss, and stay that way, hm? Just how I wanted."

And Regulus pulled him down into a kiss, and another, and later that night when James asked him what made him choose that "fucking fantastic" outfit tonight, Regulus told him.

And all James did was smile.

[driftwooddestiel]

I’M BACK FROM HIKE ‼️ ‼️ IT WAS SO GOOD GUYS. ACTUALLY SO WONDERFUL I LOVED IT SO SO MUCH

[synth-ab]

I saw Fury Road again tonight. I also saw Furiosa a few days ago. She's my everything now.

[charlybvnny]

i'm really not someone big lol, me and my few moots are all here being anxious little blobs playing with the straw dolls we made of our favourite blorbos /hj

i am thankful for @cupidl0vesy0u <3<3<3 for being my absolute most beautiful and amazing and cool and precious and fabulous and fascinating and super duper cool and most bestest ever and adorable and cutest ever and most amazing and fantastical and ahhhhhhhhhhhhh i love my wife so much, chat can you tell i'm a wife guy? can you tell?

i am thankful for @wlwdwtys , @aceofcrows1222 , @r0nin-sleeps and @sparrrrow for being some of my closest friends <3

i am thankful for @cookie-nom-nom for being one of my favourites, i love your art, and your writing so so much

i am thankful for @gloomy-ghosty for showing and tagging me in any michael posts <3 <3

and i am thankful for all the others in my discord that i do NAWT remember your tumblrs lol (sorry 😞) for so so many things that i am just so thankful for lol

i'm pretty sure i'm forgetting a LOT of people that i am friends with / moots with lmao

edit: OH MY GOD I FORGOT MY OWN MOTHER 😱😨😓😥😢😖💔💔💔

i am thankful for @schlorb for being the schlorbiest schlorber of all schlorbing time

edit 2: can't believe i forgot tommy 😟

i am thankful for @tommyssupercoolblog for being my first real experience of systems, and for helping me realise i am one too, and just being a super cool friend and amazing person!

and for being a silly lil guy, i love it whenever u pop up in my dash

i am also thankful for @literallyd34d and @belladonnamoonundead

[nachosncheezies]

In defense of late-canon x files (including the revivals)

I was thinking about this poll after I commented on it, and I kinda want to be brave and say more.

Short answer to the poll's question before I go any further: If you're a new fan and a sensitive sort who thinks you'll struggle with your blorbos Really Going Through It and you really need a happy ending, I suggest you stop at the end of season 8. Do not pass go, do not look at spoilers. Disregard this post entirely, close the internet, and go look at something that makes you happy. (Also fuck every part of society that characterizes sensitivity as inherently weak and bad and some kind of personal failing, you are valid.)

That said, "quality" as a concept is entirely subjective, and the question of whether or not there's a decline in quality for any story is wholly subjective, too. In the case of x files? I'm not convinced there is a decline. I am going to be upfront that I haven't yet watched past season 8, though I am almost completely spoiled on events after that - and the reason I haven't watched yet is not because of how I know events are going to unfold, but simply because I don't want it to end!!! Ohh, the tension between "I CAN'T WAIT!!!" and "Nooo don't be over D:"

When I first came to txf fandom on tumblr and gradually became spoiled about what happens in late canon though, I was often left uncomfortable and tbh kinda queasy about it. As I said in my comment on the poll, the hate for especially the revival and IWTB, or to a lesser extent even seasons 8 & 9, is very well documented. But! There are other takes to be found here on tumblr if you figure out where to look, and my feelings have changed!

The thing is, I have yet to find myself in any fandom where there isn't a vocal subset of fans who dislike the story after a certain point. I am not joking when I say that no one hates the things they love as passionately as sci-fi and fantasy fans. In my experience, it often hinges on the extent to which a viewer has strong notions on where they would like the characters to end up. In particular with series where shipping is a dominant component for the bulk of a fandom, I have almost universally found that there comes some turning point in the story where "let them be happy you cowards" is the dominant view, and things that compromise the attainment of a degree of romantic stability and/or domesticity are, to many fans, annoying at best and despicable at worst. But! As one tagset on the linked poll said:

and I think for any fandom, that last tag especially is so so so important. (I think that's harder for people watching a weekly series live, bc you have so much time to analyze and speculate and dream before the next breadcrumb drops, but I digress.)

So why am I saying this and how do I apply it to x files? Well, I eventually found that there are also a subset of fans who find redeeming things right up to the very end and actually quite like the whole thing! The things that I had seen people rage and ventpost so much about honestly never quite sounded to me as "out of character" or "untrue to the story" etc as those same ventposts made them sound. And I've discovered I'm not the only one who felt that way. Do I love that the spooky squad had to go through all of those things? No, those poor guys D: Life is hard and they have been through so much trauma. But do those events and their choices make sense to me in light of everything that came before? Yes! And I honestly can't wait to see them fight to overcome those things, breaking, healing, always learning, always growing, always getting better.

So if you're wondering "where does it go wrong"... well, I'm a completionist, as many people who've answered that post are, but also my personal opinion is that I don't think it does go wrong. If you're new and interested in exploring why I've gone from "vaguely queasy" to "excited" about the whole thing, or want to maybe balance out the impressions you're getting about the later seasons before deciding whether or not you want to see the whole thing, I'll put a few blog names in the comments.

Final admission: even once I started feeling a little more confident in the possibility that "actually ok maybe I'm not crazy, maybe this all kind of is in character and does make sense", there was one big plot point that I was NOT looking forward to and I thought I would never be comfortable about. In hindsight, I think my discomfort came from the negative responses being SO seemingly universal that I hadn't stopped to let myself truly consider other possible interpretations on that point. (I mean my initial instinct when I first read about it was, why are we mad about this?? CSM is literally the most unreliable narrator in history???? it's obviously fake news?????? this must be either a fever dream someone's having or it's a misdirection ploy against whatever shadowy forces might still be lurking?????????????? but for whatever reason I guess I had halfway written that off.) Happily, just last month there's a new post-s11 novel out, and although reviews for the book as a whole are mixed, it seems to have laid the groundwork for resolving that plot issue in a way I think most fans would be broadly happy with. If you're interested in being spoiled about that and seeing how, I recommend searching #perihelion on @agent-troi who liveblogged reading it with receipts, scroll back chronological-style to the first post on the subject and see how it unfolded. (And never forget that Dana Katherine Scully is the queen of denial as a coping mechanism lol)

Everyone's mileage will vary. Each person can feel however they want! But for anyone new, I wanted you to know that the very many ventposts you might be seeing are not all there is to this show or its fandom. Some of us love it despite - or even because of - all the things that went "wrong". I think we just don't talk about it as much.

[bonebabbles]

you should play Dredge

Played! I enjoyed it. I only have 7 hours in it, though.

In fact, my personal buddy is suuuuper into Dredge, it's his favorite game. We played it zealously together during a visit, during which I got absolutely mobbed by like every random monster ever at Gale Cliffs. The squid. The ray. The thing that rots your fish. The actual big mama monster who lives in the cliffs.

He remarked he had NEVER seen such bad luck before lmaoooo

Women want me but the fish do not fear me, sadly. The fish and I are engaged in mutually assured destruction.

[vee-lociraptor]

bad and useless forever. incurable

[drowsy-fantasy]

I got you.

This is one my dad used to tell all the time. It got every single person who heard it. Terrible. Amazing. So many groans.

“A guy walks into a bar, sits down. He hears a tiny voice that says ‘oh hey, man, that’s a great jacket. Looks amazing on you.’ The guy looks around; he’s alone at the bar. Frowning, he takes off his jacket and looks around for the bartender. The little voice from before speaks up again.

‘That colour shirt really suits you! It brings out your eyes.’

Now the guy is concerned. Somebody is watching him and he can’t see anyone else. He flags the bartender down and manages to order a drink, but just as he’s about to take a sip, the little voice comes back.

‘Is that a new haircut? You really look fantastic!’

This time, the guy is looking around, and as he turns his head back and forth, he realizes the voice is coming from the little bowl of nuts sitting on the bar. He flags the bartender down.

‘Hey, man, what’s the deal with these nuts?’

‘Oh,’ says the bartender, ‘they’re complimentary.’”

The most brutal pun layup I’d ever heard as a child. I loved it.

the company i work for is holding a competition for the best "worst dad-joke", the prize is a day off (which is very weird but i'm not gonna question a chance to win a paid holiday). please give me your worst

[adriartts]

alas, turns out grad school is hard so i haven't been drawing much of anything BUT. now. some side characters for yall

[best-enemies]

I've reached season 5 on my CSI rewatch and I'm a few episodes past "Swap Meet", where a woman is murdered after attending a swing party with other couples from the neighbourhood. Near the end of the episode there's a moment that made me jump from my seat:

(Grissom walks up to Sara and takes the seat next to her. He's holding two cups. He hands her a cup of tea.)

[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - BRASS' OFFICE]

Erin Brady: Everybody fantasizes about other people. (She glances at Grissom.)

Even you, Mr. Grissom. A neighbor, a friend ... girl at the office.

[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - HALLWAY]

(The door opens. Paul Brady walks out of the hallway. Erin Brady walks out into the hallway. Sara is sitting in the hallway chair watching them. She watches as they meet and kiss.)

(Grissom walks up to Sara and takes the seat next to her. He's holding two culps. He hands her a cup of tea.)

LIKE!!!!!!!

Right after Erin ends her sentence with 'girl at the office', the first time Sara and Grissom meet again, he brings her tea. This might be an innocent interaction but to me it seemed like a nod to this relationship they have where both are into each other, know about the other's feelings, but can't/won't do anything about it (although Sara has kind of given Grissom an ultimatum). I don't know if it was intentional - I'm guessing it is, because I picked it up immediately. I might or might not have squealed in delight.

[crossbackpoke-check]

the pics of morgan and joel are from travis sanheim's wedding this weekend!

^^^me experiencing the one-two knockout punch of “oh they WERE each other’s wedding date” followed by the realization that sanny finally got married 🥹😭 cheers indeed!!!

[carcarrot]

its important to go see a low stakes concert sometimes

[akkivee]

🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜