#and was like ‘yeah this will not have any lasting effects at all’

[alexseanchai]

the closest I can think of to people being able to hold accountable anonymous voters around the country is people collectively holding accountable those individual Trump voters who, though anonymous to all the other Harris voters, might, by reason of existing family or social ties, actually listen to the specific individuals approaching them.

let me use myself to illustrate the problem: I keep re-re-re-scripting in my head a phone call to my mother, who I'm 99% sure has voted Trump three times now, though I only know for certain about 2016. the current iteration involves asking her to compare the Trump and Biden administrations to the sheep and goats parable, like, assume Jesus named his six most important political issues in Matthew 25—provide food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, welcome to the stranger, clothes to the insufficiently clothed, care and contact with the outside world to the sick and the prisoner—and which four of the last eight years accomplished more of those, which more thoroughly, which more effectively? cite your sources.

and if she were the honest, compassionate Christian I thought she was when she was raising me to be one, that would work!

but if she were, it would have worked summer of 2016.

so anything I could say in that phone call would just boil down to saying either "I told you so" or "do you believe me now?", in a way that makes sure her disability access needs trump mine—which would be an important contributor to almost guaranteeing I'll have a meltdown—and incidentally hands her my phone number. there are very good reasons why she does not know it.

sooo yeah I'm not convinced that's even going to vaguely resemble me holding her accountable! which means it's also shit as a tiny fraction of a percent of the project of Harris voters collectively holding Trump voters accountable; back to the drawing board

I could try talking to any of the other Trump voters in my life, I suppose? but other than being pretty sure my parents are far from the only ones, I don't know who any of them are

.

.

(leftist LARPing to the detriment of actual me. reminding myself of that might actually help, thank you)

Every time you think to yourself, "I want the people who voted That Way to learn their lesson," I want you to come back to this post and ask yourself, "Is that really more important than marginalized people's safety? Am I engaging in Leftist LARPing to the detriment of actual people?"

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Wade is having a stay-in date night with Ness, and this means the kitchen light is traded for a colored one, candles, half burnt pasta, cheap wine, and Careless Whisper blasting throughout the appartment complex.

He starts off with some cringy dance while V is up on the counter, rolling her eyes and smiling, but she can't help but feel like there was something different about Wade. Yeah, she knew this dance. She knew the routine of his 'serenade' and his littlw two step slow dance he had going on, making backup sound effects for Mr. George Micheal and eventually grabs the pasta spoon, singing into it.

This is not new, but.. something was. She couldn't put her finger on it but she knew her boyfriend. She knew him well enough to become engaged to him, break up with him, and start dating again.

It was like he was glowing.

But why?

"Tonight the music seems so loud! I wish that we could lose this crowd-" His non existsnt eyebrows wiggle, and Vanessa can't help but to almost spit out her wine.

"Maybe it's better this way, We'd hurt each other with the things we want to say!" He shouts into the pasta sauce covered spoon, leaning into her a bit as she rolls her eyes again, looking up at the ceiling. She knew what Wade wanted. He wanted to "earn" her with his performance.

God.. he really is her peacock, wasn't he?

"We could have been so good together! We could have lived this dance forever!" Taking her arm, He pulls her waist closer to him, connecting their foreheads with those pretty heart eyes of his beaming into hers with such love struck gleam.

"But now who's gonna dance with me? Please staaaayy~" He sings loudly, letting her go enough for V to notice that Logan is now staring too, the same lop sided love struck small smile on his face.

"And I'm never gonna dance again- Guilty feet have got no rhythm!!" He says, dropping onto his knees and arching his back, using her hand to keep his balance.

"You didn't have any to begin with!"

She hears, looking up to see Logan smirking as Wade jumps to his feet. "ExcUSE me!? My bad, not everything is a waltz, old man! Like seriously, when's the last time you could do anything but a simple one two three? Lincoln's wedding!?" He calls over the counter and Logan grunts, his joints popping as he gets off the couch.

Wades eyes widden with dangerous excitment as he turns to her. "Oh now, im in for it!"

"Damn right. I can do more then Waltz, you know."

"Oh, yeah!? Like what? Square dance?!"

"Whats wrong with square dancing!?"

Then it clicked.

Him.

That's what was different about Wade.

Logan had changed him. Unconsiously, for the better. He was so... Happy. He was like a missing puzzle piece to complete Wades purpose of being, mirroring what Wade needed, even if that meant insulting his dancing skills mid date.

Grinning widely like a moron with a crush, he changes the song- Wade was serious. He would never dance with anyone else except V to that song ever again- Pushing next on their shuffle only for Madonna to come on.

Squealing, he waves his hands, shoving the pasta spoon back into the pot then took Logan's hands. "Can you swing?"

"S-swing?- Woah!! Hey!"

"You wanted to dance so were dancing!"

"I didn't say that!"

As she listens to them bicker, she laughs as she watches Logan awkwardly step on Wade's foot multiple times.

"Ouch!! Hey! I'm regenerative, not indestructible! You're like 400 pounds!!" He teases, and the blush on Logan's face is something she wants to take a picture of, watching as he tries to teach Wade how to 'properly dance', spinning him around, holding his wasit and dipping him at certian parts.

"Ahh!! Don't drop me!!"

"I'm not going to drop you, Stop screaming!"

"Ness!! He's gonna drop me!"

She giggles, giving Logan a playful finger wag. "Hey do you mind? He needs all the braincells he can keep!"

"Yeah! Cancer already ate half of them!"

"Oh, sssuurree, just the cancer, definitely not how many times youve made me shove my-"

"Lo-Lo!!! Not in front of Nessy!!" He whines, being spun again.

"Oh shut up, i'm not going to embarrass you infront of Vanessa-" he turned to her, whispering "I so am"

"I HEARD THAT!"

"What? It's not my fault your game is weak." Logan teases him, giving her a playful nod, putting his hand out for her to take "Ma'am."

She laughs, hearing Wade suddenly complain that he wasn't supposed to be stealing his date.

"Maybe she wants to dance with a real man-" Logan coes, gently taking V and spinning her too... Vanessa could see why Wade liked him.. he was quite strong. And a gentleman.

"My gender blindness has NOTHING to do with this!" Wade whined in a high-pitched tantrum like sound, grabbing her waist and pulling her into him instead.

Oh great. And now they were fighting over her.

Gosh... Maybe she has two Peacocks...

[cobaltperun]

Eternal Flame (5) - Be Yourself

Cover by: @ortegalvr

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: For her it’s a passion, for you it’s an accident. And as she continues shining brighter and brighter with each role you are left mesmerized, drawn to her flame and cherishing every time she lets herself be vulnerable with you.

Spotify playlist

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part

Word count: 6.5k

-Don't lose any sleep tonight I'm sure everything will end up alright-

The feeling of your lips against her own still lingered long after you finished shooting the scene together. It was a strangely welcome feeling; light and gentle, and most importantly it just felt right. When she kissed you, as spontaneously as it was, it felt like what she was feeling wasn't one-sided, but rather something you reciprocated. She wasn’t ready for a relationship, that’s what she’s been telling herself for some time now, while she watched her former classmates getting into their relationships and going on dates and posting about them on social media. She wasn’t ready to be vulnerable and she had a career to focus on.

But how much more vulnerable could she get? After going through an actual panic attack and calming down with you by her side? She couldn’t deny how much better she felt with you there, by her side. How often have her thoughts wandered off to you over the past couple of weeks? She dared to say almost concerningly many times.

Jenna wasn't a stranger to building connections on set, just on Scream she could tell she built friendships with Melissa, Jasmin, Mason, Mikey and many others, connections that would last long after the filming ends, regardless of potentially working together in the future. Yet there was something different with the way she was around you. With you she could be free. The panic attack proved it, and while that was something she wished had never happened, looking back and thinking about it she knew that night changed your relationship permanently. You didn’t change how you viewed her, you didn’t start treating her like she was broken, or like you needed to be careful around her, you just cared for her. She could trust you with her deepest insecurities and feel safe to share them with you.

She stole a glance toward you as you walked down the hall of the hotel you were in. As usual you were calm, confident, completely relaxed and she would be lying if she said that kind of demeanor didn't affect her as well. That same calming effect you had on her during her panic attack now affected her on a regular basis, quieting her own doubts and anxious thoughts when she was with you.

“So, that was one hell of an improvisation huh?” you broke the silence with a teasing grin on your face, but she could tell you didn't mind the kiss. Well, she wasn't exactly sure you enjoyed it, after all, it was more of a peck rather than a kiss, but she well sure you didn't mind it. And now her thoughts were going off the rails once more, and she had to make a conscious effort to stop looking at your lips.

So, to regain control and quiet her mind she teased right back. “Figured I should show them that I'm comfortable around you,” Jenna answered, nudging your lightly. For a moment she hesitated, but finding confidence in how comfortable she was around you she added: “And besides, we were supposed to kiss in the movie so there was that as well.”

You laughed, and it brought a big smile to Jenna’s face as well. She absolutely was doomed, but she loved your laugh. “Yeah, yeah, we’re sure keeping it professional. Absolutely nothing else,” oh, you were teasing her, you were absolutely teasing her, and despite how close to home it hit you were in fact joking. She could see mischief in your eyes. “You would never want to kiss me if it wasn't for the movie,” and maybe she was imagining it, projecting some of her own insecurities, but she felt self-deprecation in your tone, and she despised it.

If only you knew or rather, she figured she was lucky you didn't know. At least in some ways. As much as she hated that hint of self-deprecation, she just now noticed; she figured it would be better for both of you, in more ways than one, to keep your relationship the way it was at the moment. To stay as just friends; really, really good friends that may have crossed that line a time or two, by falling asleep together. She just wasn't sure taking the next step and acting on her feelings would turn out to be a good idea when both of you were trying to focus on your careers.

Truthfully, she was just afraid to be completely exposed to you, to let you see all of her sides, the good, the bad, her insecurities, everything she was trying to hide from others. The panic attack was one thing, and being emotionally vulnerable was almost too easy with you. But the other ways? Could she let you in on all of that?

“Of course, of course I would never,” she accepted the joke, playing off of it as two of you stopped in front of her doors. “Do you want to watch another movie?” she asked tentatively, not really wanting the night to end but just shook her head.

“Maybe some other night,” she could see a hint of regret in your eyes or perhaps she was just believing she saw it. “I made plans to catch up with my friend, and knowing her it’ll last for a while,” you grinned sheepishly, explaining why you couldn't spend the night with her and easing any worries she might have formed in her head over the late hours of the night.

“Oh, I see, say hi to her for me,” Jenna told you and pulled you into a quick hug. “Sleep well, Y/N,” she whispered.

“You too,” you whispered back and you parted ways for the night.

~X~

To be honest, you were dreading the call you were about to make. It's been two weeks since you last talked to Barbara and saying she was a bit of a needy friend would be an understatement, not that you had it in you to be bothered by it, in fact you were certain a huge reason for that neediness was the way you sometimes could get. Scratch that, the way you often got these past few years. This time though, in your defense, you really were quite busy between filming and everything happening with Jenna, so this time it wasn’t your regular stupor preventing you from fulfilling your best friend duties as Barbara called them.

You took a deep breath, sucked it up, and called her as you paced around the room hoping you would not hear her yelling at you right away.

You were hoping for too much.

“Where the hell have you been?!” Barbara roared, forcing you to move the phone away from your ear and wince because of how loud she was.

“I'm sorry I was just-“ you tried to apologize and get her to stop trying to make you lose your hearing.

She wasn’t having any of it though. “No excuses! Do you know how much I worry about you, asshole?! I damn near called Hugh and I know you've been in touch with him at least through texts!” Well, she wasn't wrong, you really were in touch with Hugh, through texts, which was also the way you kept in touch with Barbara. You just didn't find the time to call her and for Barbara that was an unusual deprivation of contact and close to unforgivable.

“Barb, come on, we’ll make up for the lost time, I promise. Just two more weeks and we'll meet up and catch up and you'll tell me all the things I missed,” you assured her. You would normally get annoyed over someone being like this, almost demanding. You appreciated being left alone when you needed it, and Barbara just wouldn’t let you be on your own. Still, you really couldn't be annoyed with her. If there was anyone other than Hugh that actually knew you, it was Barbara and as much as you depended on her she depended on you just as much and now suddenly you couldn't be there for her for almost a month and a half.

And you still had two weeks until you would meet up.

“I know. I just miss being able to go to see you,” she complained, her voice turning more whiny and you knew exactly what was coming, and it brought a smile to your face. “I want to bother you and steal all your food,” she sighed as she calmed down and you could picture her just drawing lines on some paper she had lying around. That was the thing with Barbara she had short fuse but she would also calm down ridiculously fast as long as the reason behind her anger wasn't justified she was easy to talk down, especially when it came to you and even more so after what happened a few years ago.

“You'll get to raid my fridge, again,” you put great emphasis on the word ‘again’ “Don't worry about it,” you sounded annoyed but you both knew that wasn't the case. As much as you loved filming again and as much as you acknowledged the deep, precious bond with Jenna you still missed your best friend, and nothing could change that.

Barbara laughed at that. “So how are things on the set? Tell me all about it, are there any girls I should know about?” she really couldn’t help herself. Well, at least things probably couldn’t get worse. “How are things with Jenna?” you really should know better by now. There it was, the Barbara special… The teasing! The incessant need to know everything about your love life! The love life that was, granted, pretty much nonexistent before this and it was still nonexistent because there was nothing but your crush on Jenna going between the two of you.

You could still tell you made a mistake when you naively shared with Barbara that you have grown fairly fond of your co-star. Still, you sighed, there was no going back now. “I’m in trouble, Barb, I’m in deep trouble,” you sighed, accepting that you had no control over your feelings for Jenna. After all, the taste of her lips would definitely keep reminding you of the short, but sweet, kiss you shared on set for a long time, and you’d be remembering the feel of her soft lips against your own for even longer.

“Hell yeah! Get the girl Y/N!” Barbara cheered way too loudly and you just knew she was pumping her fist up in the air.

The nerve of her. “Fucking shut up,” you groaned, dropping onto your bed and resigning yourself to more teasing as Barbara laughed.

~X~

Tomorrow morning and exactly two weeks before the filming was scheduled to end you came back from breakfast to see your phone lighting up on the bedside table. So, that’s where you forgot it. You raised an eyebrow, not expecting anyone to text you this early. As far as you knew, Barbara would still be asleep, and Hugh was a few hours behind you, so it was still in the middle of the night for him. And it probably wasn't any one of your co-stars because you just saw all of them. You walked over to the bedside table and glanced at your phone and your blood immediately froze.

“I've got an event next week. I can pick you up next Saturday and bring you back to the set on Monday morning.”

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you looked at the message. The event, well that was one way to put it. You could feel the itching to go, the desire to just let go, to forget everything and focus on just one simple task. You've been working out for years and you didn’t stop back when filming started, you spent damn near every day at the gym for at least an hour oftentimes more. You explained it by saying you were just trying to stay in shape, especially since you still had the job at the gym to come back to and it would be irresponsible to get out of shape.

But you knew the truth.

It wasn't staying in shape. It was just the only way you knew how to escape from what you still felt deep down. So, your reply was quick, sent without much thinking, without reconsidering the short or long-term consequences of those actions, and you especially didn’t consider how something like that could affect the movie or your career. Short-term consequences were easy to deal with. Those were your days off anyway, so nothing would happen. “I'm in,” you answered and tossed the phone to your bed ready to just go to the gym. You needed to put extra effort into preparing for… the event.

~X~

Somehow there was a feeling of dread Jenna couldn't explain, a restless feeling keeping her awake and filling her with anxiety. She had a long night doing the shooting, you all did and she intended to go to sleep to spend the evening taking a nap and resting, especially seeing as her insomnia was getting worse. You helped, of course, at least as much as Jenna would let you. Every time she turned to you for help she slept better because you would either come to her room and stay with her until she fell asleep or you would just talk on the phone and she got into a comfortable with the way things were between you. Deep down she knew it couldn’t be maintained, that she couldn't rely on you every night. You needed rest as well and she felt guilty for making her insomnia your problem.

Tonight was different. Tonight it wasn't just her insomnia keeping her awake. Tonight there was that sense of dread, that sense that if she didn't do something, anything, that something awful would happen and she didn't even know what it was. She didn't know what to do, or what it was related to, she knew nothing other than the fact that something did not feel right.

So, Jenna turned in her bed, desperately trying to keep her eyes closed so she might fall asleep. It was just her being paranoid, she was sure of it. She was just overthinking things that she honestly couldn't even define. If you or Melissa asked her what was wrong she wouldn't have an answer, she would just tell you that she had a bad feeling, and it infuriated her that she was feeling like this without having a logical explanation for it.

“Fuck it!” at this rate she wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon and it was still half past seven so she figured she could drop by your room and see if you wanted to watch a movie or something. She got up, determined to get her mind off whatever was tormenting her and picked out a rather cute red shirt and denim shorts and changed out of her pajamas. Maybe she could get you to wear your glasses for the movie, that would make the restless day better, because you, annoyingly if she could say so, still didn’t wear your glasses around her as often as she would like you to.

She didn't even send you a message as a warning, she just got out of her room and marched to your door and knocked on your doors. “One minute,” she heard you saying from behind the doors and she felt her heart beating just a bit faster, which was ridiculous because just seeing you wasn't supposed to have this kind of an effect on her. Yet here she was probably ready to just admit this was not just a crush and that she was actually in love. You opened the door and seemed to freeze when you saw her which was an unusual reaction coming from you. What was even stranger was how you looked, wearing a hoodie and worn out boots and tracksuit pants, as if you were trying to disappear in the crowd. “Jen,” you looked like a deer caught in the headlights and there was a guilty look in your eyes. That same dread that consumed Jenna entirely the whole day came back full force and she couldn't explain why.

“Hey, I was thinking if you wanted to hang out, maybe watch a movie or chill out together? Just the two of us? I mean it's fine if you don't have the time or have other plans-“ and she just noticed a backpack hanging from your shoulder, and that dread just increased for a reason she couldn’t even start to explain. Just seeing that backpack made her anxiety spike up. “Did- where are you- I mean are you going anywhere?” she stammered, now feeling unsure of herself. “You didn't mention going to see your family,” she missed the way you frowned just for a moment. “Or anyone and what's with the bag?” She was rambling not really giving you a moment to reply and worst of all the guilt on your face just became more pronounced the more she talked.

“I-“ you began but then just closed your mouth and ran your fingers through your hair. What did she just interrupt? Were you about to leave?

No, that much was obvious.

But there was something heavy in the air, something that made her worry more than she should, something deep down telling her not to back down.

“Hey, talk to me,” she reached up, almost timidly, and touched your cheek, watching as you swallowed the lump in your throat. You didn’t reject her touch, and she felt bolder, instead of just touching your cheek she began cradling it. This time she felt you flinching before you accepted her touch, leaning into it, she watched you as you took a deep breath. Your eyes were closed from the moment she touched your cheek, but even with that she could see, or feel, the battle raging within you as you struggled between staying with her and going wherever you were about to go. So, she did her best to make the decision easier for you. “Stay with me. Please, Y/N,” and as if those words were enough, as if they were all you needed to hear, you reached up and took hold of her hand and pulled her in, hugging her firmly almost desperately holding onto her shirt.

“I'm staying,” you whispered, burying your face in the crook of her neck and Jenna found herself holding on to you just as firmly as you were holding on to her. That dread she felt earlier slowly began dissipating and she didn't know what she prevented, but she just felt like it was the best decision she could have made. Especially when you definitely flinched when you heard your phone ringing. For a moment she thought you would ignore it, but you let out an exhausted, broken sigh, damn near shattering her heart. “Yeah, I need to take this. Just give me a moment,” she could feel you putting so much effort just to pull away from her and then even more effort to close the door

Despite the closed doors Jenna could still hear the bits of the conversation as she stood there, her back pressed against the wall next to your doors. The murmurs of ‘I'm not coming’ and ‘I'm not arguing with you about this, I'm not coming’ made her instinctively hug herself. She felt cold all of a sudden, where were you about to go? What did she stop you from doing?

It would take months for her to figure it out and when she did it threatened to almost ruin what you built up until that point.

You came out of the room, in different clothes, now wearing a simple shirt and pajama pants and she immediately took your hand and pulled you along to her room, afraid that if she didn’t, she would just ask you where you were about to go. She looked back and saw you smiling. The smile on your face was natural not forced at all, but she could see pain hidden deep inside you and her heart broke because she could already tell you wouldn’t talk to her about this.

~X~

The early November cold seeped into her room but that wasn't the reason why about halfway through ‘The Silence of the Lambs’ she ended up wrapping her arms around you and lowering her head on your chest. That feeling of dread may have disappeared, but another feeling took its place and the only thought running through Jenna’s mind was ‘Don't let go. No matter what, don't let go.’ So, she didn't let go, even when you're raised an eyebrow at the sudden display of affection.

You've both seen the movie before, so she didn't feel any guilt for taking your attention away from it. “Y/N,” she said your name gently, aware that she now had your undivided attention. “Where were you going to go?” she asked, softly whispering the words as if saying them any louder would scare you away and convince you not to tell her anything.

You remained silent, the image of an open honest person that captured her heart wavered for a moment and then you looked away. “Just for a walk, don't worry about it,” it was so obviously a lie, and she could see you meant for her to see through it. Nonetheless the message was clear. Don’t ask more questions. You would not answer. You would not tell her the truth even if it would chase away her worries, even if it would show her you were willing to tell her anything. You just wanted to end the conversation and the obvious lie was an easy way to show Jenna it didn’t matter how many times she asked.

“OK,” she let the conversation end, but she doesn't let go of you, she just held tighter. And despite the uneasiness of the realization she just had, she still felt comfortable. It still felt so easy to be with you, and near the end of the movie she fell asleep in your arms.

Jenna didn’t wake up until you moved underneath her and when she opened her eyes, she saw the Sun was just starting to rise. “Hey, sorry I woke you up, I should go before someone catches me here,” you said and there it was, that gentle tone of your voice, that comforting attitude you had and she just now realized it was missing all night long yesterday but somehow throughout the night you got it back.

That was a relief. “Sorry, that probably wasn't the most comfortable position to sleep in,” Jenna laughed and you grinned, just shrugging as if to tell her you were perfectly fine with a bit of discomfort. Slowly, a bit too hesitantly, she let you go and moved to lie down on her bed properly and not halfway on top of you. You sat up and stretched a bit and she watched you, tense, but more relaxed than you were while you were watching the movie last night. And you looked like you rested enough, like you slept well. By now Jenna knew exactly how you looked when you didn’t get enough sleep and it wasn’t this. It was close, you clearly had a lot on your mind last night, but you slept well, and it made her happy to know that.

All of a sudden you turned and looked at her and she could see the mix of emotions in your eyes, but before she could speak you leaned over her and caressed her cheek. Jenna’s breath hitched as she looked you in the eyes. “Y/N,” she whispered your name.

“Sorry about last night. About lying, about not telling you where I was supposed to go,” you paused, your jaw clenching as you picked words, and she gave you a moment. “I still won't tell you, it doesn't matter anyway. But thank you for stopping me,” you leaned closer and for a moment she thought you’d kiss her, and she leaned forward, only to feel just your forehead pressing against hers. Jenna swallowed the lump in her throat, her shaky breath mingling with your own. “Thank you for holding on to me,” there was so much in that line she couldn't understand, she simply didn't have all the pieces of the puzzle. Yet the raw emotion in your voice told her absolutely everything she needed to know. And right then and there she just made a decision that no matter how difficult it could possibly get that she would find a way to overcome whatever was going on with you.

She almost said she was just returning the favor, almost alluding to the night you spent with her after her panic attack. Yet again instinctual stopped her, something similar to what drove her to you last night and instead she just said: “I'll hold on to you anytime you need,” it was a ridiculous promise one that could not be maintained, and you both knew it. First of all you lived in different states, not to mention all the jobs both of you would take that would take you to the entirely different corners of the world. She could not hold you anytime you wanted or needed it. Even so the deeper promise remained, a promise that she was with you and that she planned on staying with you.

Your breath hitched but you recovered a lot quicker than Jenna did. You nodded, unable to properly put into words how much her promise meant to you, but she could tell. You reluctantly pulled away, leaving her in her room as you slipped back into your own, just to avoid anyone from the cast knowing you spent the night with Jenna in her bed.

~X~

The filming was coming to a close, just a few days were left now, almost two months you spent in North Carolina were something else. You came into this project trying to get back into acting after Logan. You began working on it feeling the pressure of Logan almost weighing you down. Yet now you were grappling with entirely different feelings. You ended up coming to the rooftop to watch the sunset on the last Monday of the filming, just soaking it all in. To think if things were just a bit different, if you left a few minutes earlier now you’d be coming back to the hotel this morning instead of waking up in your room to open Instagram messages between you and Jenna.

Jenna…

She stopped you. She was the first person to actually stop you.

“Hey there stranger,” you heard Mikey saying as she walked up to you, breaking you out of your thoughts and for a moment taking your mind off just what Jenna stopping you as easily as she did meant for you.

You pushed the thoughts further away, not wanting to be vulnerable around another person, no matter how cool Mikey was. You grinned, patting the spot next to you. “Stranger? Already?” you laughed and leaned back as she sat down on the still warm concrete rooftop.

She rolled her eyes. “Can’t say you made a strong impression,” she teased you, though you spent several weekends cooking together. Funny how your characters hated one another yet the two of you kind of clicked.

You smirked at that. “Well, not all of us can crash a bicycle,” you joked now, but the entire cast was worried when her and Jasmin crashed. Mikey took the fall harder, as her knee still ached occasionally, but she was fine.

She jokingly slapped your shoulder. “Jerk,” she looked back when the doors opened. “Hey, Jenna!”

“Oh, hey,” Jenna sounded genuinely surprised as she slowly approached you and Mikey. The headphones hung around her neck and if she was weak to seeing you wearing glasses the same could be said for you regarding her wearing headphones around her neck. There was just something about seeing her like that, and you were utterly incapable of keeping your heart from beating faster.

“Really, I’m the stranger?” you said to Mikey, causing her to snicker, but your eyes were on Jenna, and like many times before you found it hard to look away. The soft colors of the sunset made her look even more beautiful, if that was even possible.

“Did you hear anything I said?” Mikey elbowed your side, not even trying to be subtle about it.

“You’ll live, stranger,” you rolled your eyes and reached out to Jenna. “Want to join us?” you offered, hopeful, and wanting, no needing, to use the time you had left working together as well as you could.

Jenna looked at you almost a bit hesitant to accept, but eventually she focused on your outstretched hand and she grinned a bit. “What the hell,” she sat down right next to you and leaned against your side, pretty much pulling your arm around her. Your heart hammered in your chest, sure, you figured you both just got so used to being physically close between the scenes you had together and the every other time you spent close, but it still felt so damn good to be this close to her. You grinned when your eyes met. “It's a bit cold,” Jenna said she with a small and adorable blush on her face.

“Sure, that's all it is,” Mikey laughed clearly teasing Jenna. “But it is getting cold. Y/N, how about you just bring us some hot chocolate?” this time her attention turned to you and you just stared blankly. Was she really going to make you get up? Right now? When Jenna just got here?

“Seriously now? I just got comfortable, go get it yourself if you're so eager to drink it,” you rolled your eyes suddenly reminded of Barbara especially when Mikey gave you those puppy eyes that honestly looked the best on Jenna.

Fuck. You really were in trouble. And you had no right to be in it after what happened on Saturday night.

“Come on! I wanna talk to your girl!” Mikey pointed at Jenna.

“Not my girl/Not her girl!” you and Jenna denied at the same time and you hated how hot your face felt. It only got worse when Mikey smirked at the two of you.

“Really? So prove it, go bring us some hot chocolate,” you really couldn't get out of that could you? You huffed and reluctantly pulled away from Jenna. How was bringing hot chocolate going to prove anything?

Dumb excuses…

“Fine, fine, I'm going to get some hot chocolate, just stop teasing,” you grumbled and stood up. Did you and Jenna really look like there was something going on between you? You were just really good friends! Sure, you had feelings for her but nothing happened between you!

~X~

Jenna felt a bit squirmish, after all Mikey was rather perceptive and she could tell the slightly older girl was catching on to Jenna’s feelings. “There really isn't anything going on between me and Y/N,” perhaps the pout on her face was giving it away or perhaps she really was that obvious when it came to her feelings for you.

To her surprise Mikey shrugged as if she wasn’t shocked by Jenna’s denial. “Oh, I know. You wouldn't look so jealous if  the two of you were together.”

Jenna turn around so quickly she actually got a bit dizzy “I'm not-“ she quickly tried to deny it.

“Hush! I've seen how you looked at that barista flirting with Y/N, or at me just now because I was alone with her in such romantic circumstances,” yet Mikey didn’t sound even slightly offended as she showed around at the sunset and the rooftop and yeah, maybe it did seem a bit more romantic than Jenna would dare to admit. “Also, you missed how she looked at you. You're both so whipped it's almost sickeningly sweet. She looks at you like you are the center of the universe,” there were no intentions behind those words, Mikey didn’t look at you that way, she was simply saying what she noticed. Mikey was ridiculously cool and Jenna couldn't help but admire her admired bold and strong approach Mikey took to everything she was doing, but she didn’t appreciate that same approach being taken regarding her own feelings towards you.

Besides she thought she would have this conversation with Melissa if she really had to have it with anyone on the cast. “She doesn't look at me like that,” Jenna denied it as she looked down between her feet remembering how you lied to her two nights ago. You apologized, sure, but the lie remained and you never told her where you were really about to go. It really wasn’t her business or right to demand to know, but there was a part of her that believed all the moments you shared gave her the right to ask and know the answer. Would you really be looking at her the way Mikey described if you couldn't even open up to her?

“Yeah, so how come she spent so many nights with you,” Mikey asked so casually and Jenna felt like her heart was about to explode with how fast it was beating.

“What?” she managed to ask, her words barely louder than a whisper as her brain went into overdrive.

“I heard you laughing, mostly. I know there is nothing going on, but I also know you spend nights together. The walls are ridiculously thin, I'm sure Melissa knows too but I also think she knew beforehand as well,” this was Jenna’s worst nightmare. She spent weeks thinking the two of you were keeping your late night meetings a secret yet here she was, learning they weren’t so secret after all.

How did she never hear Amber or Melissa?

Oh, right. The answer was around her neck…

There were so many implications in what Mikey said Jenna felt like her overthinking mind couldn’t keep up with all of them. The walls were thin so it confirmed to Mikey and quite possibly Melissa that you have spent a lot of time with Jenna in her room. And the thin walls confirmed to Mikey, and possibly Melissa as well, that you and Jenna did not actually get together, at least in a more intimate way. Jenna couldn't remember the last time she got this red and embarrassed and desperate for the ground to swallow her whole. She never felt this exposed in her entire life.

“Sorry,” well what else was she supposed to say besides just apologize for keeping Mikey awake,

“No, it's OK. You never kept me awake, you weren't that loud. Don’t worry, I’ll keep it a secret and let you confess instead of spilling the beans to your, sorry Tara’s, guard dog,” Mikey was having too much fun with this if that shit eating grin was anything to go by.

Jenna just groaned, hoping you wouldn’t com back right away, because she wasn’t sure how she could look you in the eyes after this.

~X~

This was it. One last scene, the scene that was moved back quite a bit, actually, and the movie would be done, well, at least your part of the job.

Originally you were supposed to film this scene while Emma was still here, but when you were getting ready to film it the equipment failed somehow. You couldn't really remember what it was. Either the lighting wasn't good, or something was wrong with the camera, or something else entirely, and it was late so you just moved it to another day. And that another day just kept being pushed back and back and now here you are on the final day of the shooting Scream filming the scene where Gale calls your character to ask her why they were all coming back to Woodsboro.

“OK everyone let's wrap this movie up!” Tyler instructed as you and Jenna got in your positions, which was in the bed with Jenna acting like she was asleep on top of you with both of you embracing one another as much as the supposed wounds your characters took could allow.

And then it happened again. The scene was probably cursed or something.

“Sir,” one of men on the filming crew approached Tyler almost timidly. “The mic isn't working, I just sent Rick to get another one,” you all heard it loud and clear and the silence that engulfed the room was so loud, so consuming and ridiculous you almost laughed. There were only a handful of times in your life where the phrase ‘so quiet you could hear the pin drop’ could fit to the situation as good as it did right now. And neither you or Jenna dared to say a single word. In fact Jenna just didn't move at all and you figured you should probably follow her example so you didn't move either just closed your eyes trying to ignore the absolutes ridiculousness of this situation

At least Matt and Tyler weren't mad about it as they just began laughing about the absurdity of everything that was happening.

The room lit up and you saw people walking around keeping the set ready for the continuation but it didn't matter you barely paid attention to them. The only thing you paid attention to the was the girl in your arms.

You looked at Jenna, sleeping there, you looked at her peaceful face, at the freckles covering her cheeks, her hair, her lips, you felt the subtle squeeze of her arms around your waist and listened to the soft sound of her breathing. Her grip on you was soft and barely there but in a way unyielding and you were reminded of that night one week ago when she kept you from going to- from leaving the hotel.

You resisted the urge touch her cheek, to hold her closer, to tell her how you felt because deep down you were afraid. You had to stop going to those events. What a laughable way to call underground fighting. Unless you properly stopped you had no right to tell her anything about how you felt. As it was you were a mess, and she did not deserve to deal with that. So, you promised yourself you would just keep quiet.

When the equipment was finally fixed you barely realized about half an hour had passed and you did not want to delay the filming anymore, so you gently nudged Jenna until she woke from her slumber.

“Hey, sorry I didn't mean to fall asleep, I’ve just been tired lately,” she apologized and probably by accident snuggled closer to you.

“It's OK, you didn't miss anything,” you said, ignoring how intimate this entire thing between you and Jenna felt. You needed to fix yourself before addressing that. Nearly going and participating in a fight proved it to you.

A/N: So, this was supposed to go a bit further down the timeline, Hugh was supposed to show up, there were supposed to be talks of future projects, and set up Reader meeting Jenna’s family, but you know what, I think this is a good cliffhanger. And it was still longer than 6k, so, there’s that.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @freakshow2501 @osnapitzmel1 @belatrixdragon @ijustlovemaths

@niqmandu @justspance @mirage018

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part

[hellfirecvnt]

Don't Piss me Off (Pt. 2)

John Q. (Simon) X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, oral (female receiving), "public" sex, unprotected sex (don't do that), poor life choices.

Summary: You still can't stand sticking around your parents for too long, but you stay in town for a while longer just to see him play. PART ONE IS HERE!!

Notes: I love him. I'm gonna write a million versions of the same story I stg. I didn't proof read. I got like 6 ideas at once and they're all getting written at the same time.

In the basement of a warehouse you'd assume abandoned, Simon and his band consisting of a handful of less ill-tempered, but just as dirty and dead-looking men set up for their performance. They're all spitting insults at each other as they scramble to plug in each meticulous piece of shoddy equipment they've acquired.

Simon's preoccupied. Clearly stuck on the thought of you. He realized hours ago that he never told you about the show tonight. He's wrapping the wire of the mic around his fist when he overhears the stagehands. "I didn't make it to Y/N's last party, I figured there would at least be one more before she bolted."

"She went back home?" Simon interrupts.

"Yeah, man. She left today, I'm pretty sure." The stagehands hoist a large amp to its spot, leaving Simon in the silence of realizing you two have no way of contacting each other. That's it. He shrugs his shoulders, brushing off any disappointment, as he's used to things falling through. Nothing's special to someone like him, or that's what he tells himself. He reaches into his back pocket and reveals a pair of underwear that had gotten tangled with his clothes when you did his laundry. He chuckles at the thought of how he would've made you think he stole them on purpose. He stuffs them back into his pocket and gets ready to perform as people start piling in the small venue.

You're nearly flooring it back to that gas station. Once inside, you leap over the counter and snatch the poster from the wall. "God damn! You could've just asked for the fucking flyer, man!" The cashier exclaims, certain you were attempting to rob the store.

"I don't have time!" You yell behind you as you sprint out the door. "Old fuckin' Mill building? Where the fuck is that?" You mumble to yourself, frustrated. You read that Psyops isn't set to play for another 30 minutes, so you speed around town to every old and decrepit site you can find. Four failures before you find the warehouse hosting the show tonight. "Finally!" You slam the van in park before bolting to the door.

"It's $10 to get in," a nonchalant man at the door huffs. You shove the money into his hand and he opens the large, black, graffitied door behind him. You're not shy in a crowd, so when you hear the boisterous speakers blasting the sound of guitar riffs through the building, you start shoving. The vibration sends the decently sized crowd into a wave of cheers and you finally make your way toward the front. You can hear a voice over the speakers, Simon. It's hard to make out what he's saying, but once the song starts, the crowd starts moving.

You're being jostled around for most of the set. Song after song, you try to force yourself to the front, but to no avail. Finally, once Simon takes one step off the slightly raised platform on which they're performing, you can reach him. His grip is white-knuckled around the microphone, now's your chance. You lunge forward and wrap a hand around the mic, pulling yourself forward. Confused and annoyed by the sudden tugging, Simon pulls back, effectively breaking through the wall of people blocking you. The moment your eyes meet his, under his ski mask, he grins. In the moment bringing you before him, he'd missed a few bars of the song, but effortlessly picks back up once you're front and center.

It feels like his eyes are locked on you for the rest of their set. You hate to admit it, but it's a hell of a show. The energy of the crowd, their presence on stage. No wonder Simon feels so strongly about it. He's a different person when he's John Q. An alias you found out about when you were seniors, and you hoped staying quiet about it would've shown him you weren't the snitch, but instead it took a coke bender several, several years later. Plus, he wasn't much less of a loser than you were. Who fucking cared back then that he has a stage name?

After Psyops' set, you and Simon slip outside for a smoke. Riled up from the show, he's too abuzz to make sure his face matches the angry stare he usually wears. "Someone said you were headed home already, didn't think I'd see you at a show any time soon," he says, lighting a cigarette.

"Said I would," you echo his words from his promise to back you up next time you got yourself into an altercation. "Can't let fucking John Q. be more trustworthy than me." Simon laughs at the mention of his stage persona. "I like the mask, though."

"Oh, yeah? That do somethin' for you?" He teases, reaching into his pocket for the mask, but pulling out a different wad of fabric. "Oops," he laughs, dangling your panties in front of you.

"Is that my fuckin' underwear, you god damn pervert?" You curl your lip, put off by the invasive behavior.

"They might be yours, I don't know. I get a lot pussy." Simon smirks with his eyes darkened on you.

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck-" you're ready to lay into him, too violated to make any excuses despite how attractive he looks with messy hair and drying sweat.

"Calm the fuck down, they got mixed up with my shit when you washed my clothes at your house," he laughs. You roll your eyes and jump to grab them, but he's too quick. You miss the swipe and are now a great deal closer to him. "I'm gonna hold on to these," he says with a low voice as he scoops you against him with a hand placed on the small of your back. A second passes like an eternity and the two of you lock lips as he stuffs your underwear into his pocket again, allowing some of the silk and lace detail to hang out. As the kiss deepens, his hands move down your body, to your thighs before he grips your ass roughly. Soft moans escape against his lips as he gropes various parts of your curves.

"Do you know how worked up you get me?" He whispers between the press of your kiss. "Thought you left before I could get a taste." He reaches for your eyelet belt, but you stop him.

"Someone's gonna see us."

"Call it an encore," he mumbles before going back at your belt, but you swat him away again.

"At least take me around back, dumbass." You grab a fistful of his shirt and nearly drag him around the corner. It's dark and concealed from any passerby. He lifts you up onto a pad-mounted transformer and wraps your legs around him, still moving his head in sync with yours as each of your tongues explore each other's mouths.

"I guess I was kind of a prick to you back in the day, huh?" He whispers, running his hand through your hair.

"You were an angry piece of shit, yeah. We fuckin' or having a breakthrough?"

"Shut the fuck up for a second," he snaps. "I'm trying to apologize." He slips your denim shorts off your legs and all but falls to his knees in front of the large metal, green box you're sat on. His nimble index finger hooks around your thong and pulls it to the side. You barely have time to process what his "apology" will be before he plunges his head between your thighs. You fight to stifle a surprised moan as he conducts his skillful movements against your sensitive skin.

"Simon, oh, my God!" You whine, arching your back against the friction. He laughs against your skin sending waves of vibrations through your legs. One of his hands is occupied holding your panties to the side, the other is hooked around your hip, holding you securely in place as he meticulously works you over the edge.

"You want me to stop?" He asks, lips framed with drenched facial hair.

"No! No, I-" he cuts off your plea, resuming his position.

"Then stop fighting me," he snaps, harshly pinning you to the metal with the hand he had hooked on your hip. The stimulation quickly builds up, becoming too much, too quickly. You throw your head back and tangle a fist in his hair as he guides you through the high. Your legs shake and threaten to close around him, but his grip is too strong. You remain exactly where he wants you until you've ridden out your orgasm. You're slumped back on your elbows with your head down, breathing heavily as you return to reality.

Simon towers over you where you lay, staring down at you with his dark-circled eyes. You look up and watch him teasingly wipe his mouth, licking his lips like you're the first thing he's devoured in months. He slips your shorts halfway up your legs for you, leaving the rest of the work for whenever you can feel your legs again. "Um," you sigh. "Apology accepted."

"Tits."

"Is 'tits' good?" You furrow your eyebrows. He sighs, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

"You're leaving tonight, huh?" Simon lights a cigarette.

"Well... That's the plan." You feel a pit in your stomach when you think about going back home. The place is nice, it's far away. It's what you wanted, but life is full and meaningless. You don't have friends out there, it didn't strike you how hard it'd be to meet people in your mid 20s.

"You don't sound so sure about that plan, Y/N." He exhales a cloud that illuminates under the street lamp's orange glow.

"It's boring out there, but it's quiet. It's peaceful. My parents aren't in my ear telling me trying something new could kill me." You shrug.

"That's why you're running? Because of your frigid bitch mom and dad?" Simon laughs as if it's the funniest thing he's ever heard.

"Okay, well. You know, maybe don't call them that or I'll lay you the fuck out, but yeah." You stand and fasten your shorts and belt, knees still threatening to buckle. "You had a hand in me leaving too."

"I know, I apologized!" He gestures to your trembling legs and you laugh.

"Yeah, yeah," you wave your hand at him. "Where'd you go? I was in town for weeks. I thought you were in the pin."

"I didn't want to overstay my welcome," he chuckles. "Or watch another fuckin' 80s movie with the volume on ten." He turns to look at you and he smirks.

"Well, my parents are in town now. I still have the rest of this week off. I was gonna spend it getting unpacked, but-"

"Fuck that. Let's go, you're driving." He walks off around the building toward the parking lot and you're dumbfounded for a moment.

"Of course I'm driving, it's my van!" You scramble after him. He hops in your passenger seat and you pull out of the lot, leaving his disgruntled band mates to pack up their own equipment. "You're not gonna help them?"

"What for? My shit's in the van. It's a microphone."

"Yeesh, sorry. Forgot you're actually kind of the worst when your head's not between my legs," you tease and Simon can't suppress a smile. As you cruise down the dark road, bright blue lights ignite in your mirrors. "Fuck. Get it the back." Simon wastes no time, he throws himself in the spacious rear area of the van as you pull over. You both wait anxiously for the cop to approach the window. Everything feels silent, until you finally hear the footsteps.

"I'm gonna run," Simon whispers, hand on the rear door latch.

"Don't." You demand sharply, rolling down your window for the cop. The air feels still and tight. It seems like it takes hours for the cop to speak, but when he does it's a routine traffic stop. He asks you if you knew how fast you were going and you innocently explain the floating nature of your speedometer. The officer laughs when he reads your ID and sees your last name.

"You're Frank's kid, right?"

"Yeah, his one and only." You beam, proudly. Happy to name drop your wealthy family.

"You just try to slow it down and tell your dad I said hello, alright?" The cop taps your door twice and sends you on your way. As you pull off, Simon peeks out from under the blankets and sighs with relief.

"Holy shit, with the way this thing looks, you should've been strip searched." Simon tosses himself back into the passenger seat.

"Don't shit-talk my van," you hiss. Simon proceeds to tell you where to go, each turn and shortcut, until you reach a large white house, almost as status defining as your parents'.

"My parents are out of town." He points to a concealed area to park and leads you to a basement door. He fights with a key for a moment before leading you inside. It's a messy basement room with red walls and posters from ceiling to floor. Instruments take up most of the space, aside from the bed.

"Do you avoid your parents like me, or do your parents avoid you?" You ask, bluntly, not considering the weight of that question.

"Both, I guess." He says after a long pause.

"You... Wanna smoke?" You ask, unsure how to navigate the silence.

"Can't. Fucks with my motivation," he grins. You shrug, rolling and smoking a joint by yourself while Simon works on some songs. He's got an ear for every instrument in his room, and he layers them over each other, creating complex instrumentals. It's nice to listen to while you lie on his bed and watch the swirling tendrils of smoke twist into the light and air above you.

"It sounds nice," you hum, settling into the cozy divot in the center of his mattress-on-the-floor.

"Write something for it," he commands, tossing a notepad and pen at you.

"Like lyrics? Why?" You stare at the blank page, unable to read the layers and layers of writing indented into it from Simon's heavy, angry hand.

"You need an out, I'm giving you one." He leans back in the rolling chair he resides in, staring me down like a hawk.

"I don't think I'm a very musical person. I think I'm more of a doodler, really," you argue, scribbling in the corner of the paper.

"Just fuckin' write something down and stop being a pussy." He snatches the pen from you and tosses it onto the pad.

"Bitch- How does that make me a pussy?" Your eyes narrow at him.

"It'd be too vulnerable. You're no tougher than that kid you were in high school. It's all fake now." It's clear he's taunting you. Making a fair attempt at reverse psychology.

"Fuck you, give me a minute," you huff, writing a line or two to start with. "Play your shit again." And he does. Restarting the instrumental he put together just for you. After a while, you've written something and you sling the notepad at Simon. He takes a moment to read through it a few times, almost trying to decode the melody of how I'd sang it in my head.

"Perfect. Now sing it." He nods toward his microphone stand.

"Fuck's sake, dude. Are you serious?" You whine, pushed further and further out of your comfort zone.

"Come on, let's see what you got," he says in a tone that lets me know I've already lost the argument.

"It doesn't feel good to be vulnerable to you."

"Tough it out." You roll your eyes at his demand, but you do it. You tough it out and recite your song over the music he provided. He hits 'restart,' and then 'record,' and then he points to you. After a measure you begin to sing. Low effort, but still angelic. Your song is about the feeling of being homesick no matter where you end up. It's about running and putting up a face as a defense mechanism. It's about wearing a mask.

When you're done singing and the music fades out, Simon slides the headphones off his ears. "That... Was tits." He looks elated. Like a poor painter with a new pallet.

"Is 'tits' good?" You ask again, emphasizing the lack of answer last time you asked.

"Yeah, 'tits' is good." He grins. "That was good."

"Fuck you. Who's not vulnerable?" You curl your lip, clearly more moved by the challenge than the release he was offering. Simon just shakes his head.

"Let's mix it." He beelines for the computer and begins fine tuning the song. You're watching in awe of his quick skill at this craft. As if watching him play all those instruments wasn't impressive enough. The night grows older. Simon offers you your favorite party favor, but you're over it. So the two of you share a joint.

"You don't ever get tired of living in a circle?" You ask through a cloud of smoke.

"A fuckin' circle?" He looks at you.

"Just, still in this town, still avoiding your parents, still making music alone in your room."

"Fuck," he huffs, offended but acknowledging the truth in your words. "Do you ever get tired of running from it?"

"Touché." You bring the joint to your lips as you lie in his disheveled bed. His arm snaked around you ages ago, slowly pulling you closer and closer to him. Like he's worried you'll float away.

"If our only two options are run away or get sucked into this shit hole of a town, I think we're a little fucked, don't you?" He chuckles to himself.

"Maybe those aren't the only options. We just don't have all the answers yet. I don't think anyone does." Your voice is wistful and quiet. You can feel Simon's eyes on you, but you stare at his dark ceiling. He rolls his eyes at your corny words, but he knows you're right. "It's funny, because if I could run from the uncertainty too, I would." You giggle, aware of your vices and poor coping skills.

"Yeah, you would," Simon mocks.

"And you? You're just going to live with it? Sit right beside the discomfort and accept that for yourself? Have you ever tried to give yourself more, even if it meant running?" You're slowly building up a sense of passion behind your words and Simon just listens, staring deeply into your eyes as you speak. Suddenly, you're cut off when he wraps a hand around the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. His lips crash into yours and the two of you melt into each other.

You can't even remember what you were saying, you just know you don't want to stop touching him. The heat of the kiss begins to swell as Simon's hands trail up and down your body. He's grabbing at you in a specific order, like he's been waiting to get his hands on it. Really get his hands on it. You grasp at the hem of his shirt, tugging in semblance to take it the fuck off, and he does.

His broad, pale chest rises and falls with anticipation as you strip off the same article of clothing. "Jesus Christ," he moans, pulling you to him to shove his face directly between your breasts. He breathes deeply, taking you in. With one swift motion, he's hoisted you on top of him, your legs straddling his waist. Simon unfastens the button on your jeans before tossing you to the side to undress you.

You're both naked and greatly anticipating the next moment your skin will touch. Seconds feel like hours until you're pressed against each other again. Simon buries his face in the crook of your neck as he guides his throbbing erection to your entrance. You're squirming and arching beneath him, and he releases a breathy laugh as he watches you writhe. "You're aching for it," he groans.

"Fuck you," you hiss, pulling him closer to you by his shoulders. All he does is chuckle before slowly slipping inside you. You moan loudly as you adjust to his size. Something about a lanky, dead-eyed man. His pace is steady as he rocks his hips against yours, picking up speed as you gush around him. Soon his thrusts are hard and rough, and your loud, vulgar moans echo off his bedroom walls.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," he huffs, pulling out of you and tossing you aside. Simon quickly repositions you in front of him, on all fours. You let your back arch naturally, putting on a bit of a show for him as he watches you. His eyes are darkened and his smirk sends chills down your spine. You can't help but smile wide in excitement. With two round hands, he grabs your waist and positions you at the perfect height. His hands wander the soft flesh of your ass as you press up against him. "You drive me fucking crazy..." He sighs as he slips inside you.

Simon digs the tips of his fingers into your skin, pulling you against him with every violent thrust. You do everything you can to contort your body to give him more of you. He throws his head back, falling into a sloppy, unsteady pace. His breathing is wild and primal all the way up until the point of climax. You release a loud, fluttering moan as he fucks you through your high, quickly withdrawing to finish on your back and ass. You're both breathless for a while, the room is silent but for the sound of your lungs filling and deflating.

Simon climbs off the bed, but you're too fucked out to even raise your head up to watch where he's going. Moments later, he returns, towel in hand. He cleans you up and lands a hard smack on your right ass cheek. The sound is thunderous against the silence. You yelp and break into quiet chuckles.

Finally, you have the strength to roll over. You sit up against the mess of pillows that became a sort of headboard for his bed, feeling beautiful and bare before him. It's a nice feeling that you're not used to. Sure you've had your flings, but it's never occurred to you how quickly you tend to leave or cover up after. Not this time. You're both fully exposed and Simon's eyes drink you in, one last time before he speaks. "Don't go back." You stare at him for a long while, silent.

"I won't," you gasp, surprised by your own promise. As soon as the words leave your mouth, his lips are on yours. In the next few days, you quit your job and Simon rides with you to go back and get the most important of your shit. The rest goes with the trailer when you sell it. You don't run a single thing past your parents and you don't tell them you're coming back to town. It's a new sense of peace and adventure, though it feels like abandoning your old life.

After a month of van living, you and Simon get an apartment and constantly receive complaints about the noise, but nothing stops the music overflowing from your floor of the building. A new sense of bliss. It's comfortable now.

[solaiced]

CASE 28: CHOSO KAMO AND YOU SHARE A POWER!

!content!: blood, period sex..?, eating out, choso is uneducated and not beta’d, literally drinking blood.

wc: 1,002

solace: the formatting is sooo weird…

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Choso, for his 150 years on Earth, does not know what a period is. Doesn't know why it happens, or how it affects someone. Sure, it hurts, he knows that. You've told him countless times. Cramps, you said.

But he somehow didn't understand that most people avoid having sex on these days, because, as you had explained, there's blood. Choso still doesn't get it. He means good. He doesn’t mind blood. But you did, apparently.

He thinks that you have connections to him and have a blood related cursed technique.

So you sat him down, one dreadful night, where you had your awful period, and walked him through every nook and cranny about having periods and the basics of the biological need for them.

"So... It's natural..." Choso inquires, and you nod, “but it hurts you? Because you’re not pregnant..." He seems salty about it, annoyed that women, when reaching a certain age, are pained because nature intended for them to get pregnant.

“Basically, yeah.” You’re happy he got it a tiny bit right.

"When did you get it?" He asks, and it takes a while to understand what he means.

“Uh, I think... At thirteen." You answer truthfully. Choso frowns.

“But that’s young…” Aw, he's so cute, worrying about this. Most men don't even think about it. You were so lucky to have him.

"Yean, but it's nature. Only way I can prevent them without getting pregnant is birth control and removing my uterus."

“So why don't you?" He pouts, cutie.

"Because I don't know if I want kids, and birth control has side effects I don't need right now." Chose looks at his phone and unlocks it, typing something. He's gotten used to phones, after Yuji taught him.

"Apparently, hot pockets are a good way to alleviate pain, did you know?" Of course you knew, but it's wholesome to know he's trying to help.

"Yeah, babe, I know."

"And making love, too!" The half curse exclaims, which could only mean one thing. He wants to help.

So, now you're in the shower with Choso, because you didn't want to wash the sheets, naked and bleeding on his cock.

"Does it hurt?" He asks for the nth time and you groan.

“No, babe, for the millionth time, move.” Taking that as the green light, he adjusts you, making sure you'd be steady in his arms and pulls out, dragging his long cock inside of your extra warm and wet cunt, your blood stains his pale skin and you moan.

Could this truly alleviate period pain? So far, you hadn’t had any cramps to report, so all's well. But that could change at any moment.

Then, Choso slowly enters you once more, dark eyes fixed on where you were connected bloodily. He exhales shakily, shutting his eyes, as if he was trying to hold back. And it's only now that you realize that you

were definitely more sensitive than before. Way more sensitive.

“Hey,” comes Choso’s strained voice, still painfully hard inside of you. "I don't want to hurt you, and…" He pauses, catching his breath like he just ran a marathon, even that was easy for him. “I know I’ll lose control. Can I eat you out?" Gosh, he was so polite, even

during sex. You nod, however. You didn't want a repeat of last time he hurt you. He cried so much it could’ve flooded japan.

"Are you sure, though? We can always stop, most guys don’t like touching their girls when they're on their periods.”

"I'm not like other guys, then." He carefully sets your feet down on the floor, opens the tap and lets the shower head wash in between your thighs, alongside his dick knowing the blood would crust. How sweet.

Choso gets on his knees, like he was praying for you, and swipes his tongue on your hot slit,

The first taste is addictive, forcing him to shove his tongue mside of your pussy while you gasped, throwing a leg over his shoulder. He places a securing hand on the outside of your thigh and kneads the fat as he slurped on your red cunt.

Your blood made its way to his lower face, and Choso doesn't hesitate to bury his head deeper between your legs. Your stomach churned at the idea of him consuming your blood like this.

But somehow, it was hot, and it made your pussy wetter, muscles taunter.

"Choso-ah! S'good... Don't stop..." You whine, pushing his head down and he looks up, showing his bloody canines off.

“Not gunnah." The half curse suckles on your clit, eliciting a loud moan, thankfully silenced by the sound of running water.

"Are you hurting?" Choso wiggles his tongue through your folds, you were so close... He can't stop.

"No! Faster, please!" You begs, whimpering as he bit on your cit lightly. And faster he did go.

He forced his tongue into your bloody cunt repeatedly, not even giving you time to realize you were cumming, seeing stars behind your eyelids and almost slipping from how weak your knees became.

“Fuck…” You sigh, throwing your head back against the shower wall. “Ch-Choso, you freak.” You giggle as you look down, pulling on his hair to make him look at you.

“Don’t.” The curse in question warns, his eyes seem to glow, but that’s impossible. He looked… monstrous. Feral, even.

“Don’t what..?” It’s surprising, how Choso can go from genteel and soft to mean and vicious. You could even consider it scary.

“Let me… let me eat some more…” He stares at your pussy, and you could even spot a small tear trying to slip out of his eye. “I just want to help with the pain.”

Right, the cramps. You haven’t felt any, maybe it did help, but that didn’t mean he should continue.

“It’s fine, babe. I’ll just be out of commission for a few days.” You reassure, patting his head.

“No.” Choso frowns, tongue dipping back in. “I want more.”

What have you done?

[fastianini]

Valentino Rossi & Marc Márquez

[ happy (belated) 9 year anniversary to sepang 2015 aka the one weekend everything went wrong, everything changed and that still haunts motogp to this day <3 ]

history of man by maisie peters

[jalboyhenthusiast]

-

[sskk-manifesto]

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Just remembered I have a psychiatrist appointment so early tomorrow. And I obviously dyed my hair so recently because there's green staining on my face. I don't think it's going to look great for the bipolar diagnosis, to disclose that I was feeling impulsive and wanted to get control over something, so I dyed my hair at midnight.

[thethingything]

I found a case study where someone was on Ciprofloxacin (the antibiotic that permanently fucked us up) and then put on Clarithromycin (the one we've just been on) and ended up on a psych ward because of the psychiatric side effects of the Clarithromycin, and apparently they wore off within a week so I guess that's something? maybe?

[mylittleredgirl]

there are many good reasons not to see avatar but if you DO see avatar definitely see the 3D version. the entire movie is effects. same movie as the first one just underwater now. also if you are wearing 3D glasses it is less obvious that you will cry like seven times.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

amnesia: the bunker release obviously turning my thoughts to cherished fun guy of a baker's dozen years, amnesiac daniel of mayfair. cherished game of as many years; meanwhile he Has the ranges: tormentor/tormented, good/evil, noble/petty, scaredscaredscared/bold as brass tacks. not to mention ofc his Some Guy ft. a very dramatic nature, a lot of introspection, but not much to show for it. i do love him & he's a great choice for [i want to do fun sketches] which i also did with call on me on loop which happened to be a song i associated permanently w/him, as well as the reason my art tag is corned beef

[lightningfilledsaber]

I'm sorry but what the fuck do people expect to accomplish by """"planning"""" protests literally less than a handful of days or even fucking HOURS before they're ""planned"" to take place? This is why so many (particularly INTERNET) protests have fucking crashed and burned. Even if your posts go viral, you are NOT reaching an effective amount of people in such a short time span AND you are not giving the people who DO see it an effective opportunity to participate ESPECIALLY if you are asking for things like "don't spend money at xyz" or even worse "don't GO anywhere" especially when it's "don't go to WORK" People need time to prepare for these things. Some people protesting is better than none of course, but you are literally asking for failure trying to "set up" these protests by informing people at the last possible fucking second. Especially because I know more than half of y'all aren't doing the local/community work ahead of time by gathering your own friends/family/community to participate either. You are asking to fail. Learn how to organize properly if you expect this shit to work for the love of god

[eggmeralda]

thinking about how, out of all my hyperfixations, threads 1984 somehow wasn't even the worst contributor to my mental health?

[anachronistic-falsehood]

driving into the city tomorrow and i ammmm terrified </3 i am always always so paranoid about driving i wish i had sides like sanders sides so i could throw a weighted blanket over my anxiety and make him have a nap and stop making me lose my marbles