#it's my fault because i wanted to do those things

[dragonagitator]

What are the non-Tumblr roleplay websites? I had no idea that people roleplayed as MCU characters online (the only roleplaying I knew about was OCs in games like D&D) before I stumbled across some roleplay blogs in the tags I'm subscribed to, so this is entirely new to me. I've been having a lot of fun even with the PG-only stuff -- I'm one of those people who shouts at the characters on my TV, so being able to finally tell "them" all that pent-up advice and encouragement has been a nice outlet -- so if there are other websites that specialize in this sort of thing then I'd really appreciate it if you could point me in the right direction.

I will definitely be asking ages from now on, but as a middle-aged woman, it never occurred to me that a minor would want to run a roleplay blog for a character in his 50s, much less do a convincing job it! Learned my lesson and apologized profusely after they reached out on their main (whom I knew is in the British equivalent of high school) and let me know they were the one behind those blogs. We are still friends but I keep it strictly PG now that I know how young they are.

Totally my fault, not theirs -- I should have asked -- I just tend to default to assuming everyone I interact with online is an adult because back when I was a kid, the internet was only accessible to people in academia, government, or high tech. I had to visit my dad in his office and use his work account to read and post on rec.arts.startrek because there was literally no other way for me to get online back in 1991.

Then, even after the internet became available to the general public, parents used to be super restrictive about what sites their kids could access, and their restrictions were relatively effective because everyone used the same family computer in the living room.

Kids having their own smartphones or computers and the privacy to access primarily adult spaces without their parents having any idea what they're up to online is a relatively new phenomenon, so I'm still surprised every time it turns out the person I'm conversing with is a minor. I don't necessarily want them to get off my lawn, I'm just confused how they ended up there in the first place lol.

you dont want character ai you want to roleplay with someone

[vevobly]

hihihi gf!!!! idk if ur taking requests rn, but can u make yellowjackets headcanons with reader whose eyeglasses got broken cuz of the crash and has such rlly shitty eyesight that she needs help from others to get around or has to touch her surrondings and etc? OwO

Yellowjackets With Really Bad Eyesight Reader Headcanons! [Peri-crash] (1)

A/N: I was just thinking about making a headcanon post about this anyway because my eyesight is shit without eyeglasses! You can either think this took place in an AU where Jackie and Laura Lee never died or during the time before they died in canon. Enjoy and devour as always :DD

Jackie Taylor:

At first, Jackie doesn't even pay you much attention. And she doesn't really notice you beyond "the weird nerdy girl who knows stuff" on the team. But after the crash, when your glasses broke—you're just squinting and bumping into things, Jackie thinks it's kinda hilarious. But then she realizes just how much you need them. Out of pity, she starts quietly helping you by guiding your hand when you can't see from time to time, and it weirdly is the thing that bonds you two.

Jackie pretends to mock you for actually being nerdy sometimes but secretly finds the amount of stuff you know attractive somehow. And as she starts to feel less in control of the whole group, she gets a little too obsessed with making sure you're okay. She thinks it's just her being nice, but would a nice person be so hyper alert of other girls getting too close to you? Besides that, Jackie is fiercely protective of you—pretending it’s because you're just too clumsy to survive without her.

One day, when everyone else on the team has gone to sleep and it's just the two of you awake inside, she accidentally blurts out "you’re really pretty without your glasses” during a quiet moment by the fire and then tries to play it off with a shrug before getting a little too defensive and snarky after it. "Who knew all that was hiding under those thick lenses?" She says after flicking your forehead and forcing a laugh.

Shauna Shipman:

Shauna didn't notice you either that much before the crash, too busy with Jackie. But you guys have bonded over some books and schoolwork before, so she knew you to a certain extent besides being the really quiet and nerdy girl on the team. Although she never saw you without your eyeglasses, she always thought you looked beautiful even with the glasses. She just never said anything about it because it's weird, isn't it? And well, there's Jackie...

After the crash, Shauna is one of the first to realize just how helpless you are without your glasses. And she starts quietly sitting closer to you, guiding your hand to food, and helping you avoid tripping. She gets kind of possessive about it without realizing it. If someone else than her helps you, she'll insist she already was about to do it. Since she can't always assist you, she carves a walking stick for you just so you can feel around when visibility is bad and there's no one to help.

One time, when you couldn't see her face properly, you got close to her and that made Shauna really flustered because you didn't just get close to her. You got like really close just to see her face. You didn't really think much about it because you only wanted to see her face, but Shauna was blushing. And she joked to hide that fact. "You can just tell me to come closer, you don't have to crawl into my lap" — You quickly backed away, realizing what you were doing.

Taissa Turner:

Tai is pragmatic to a fault, so she thinks you're a liability at first when she sees you clearly struggling to do things without your eyeglasses. To make you less of a burden to everyone on the team, she insists on helping you despite you telling her that you don't need it every time. “You're going to break your ankle before we starve to death,” She tells you. But since you just wouldn't budge at all, she just decided to volunteer being your “eyes” from there on and so.

What starts off as her just trying to make you less of a setback towards the team, slowly develops into slow burn trust between you two. She softens around you, something she really does with just anyone. One night, you accidentally grabbed her arm instead of a branch and she just let you hold it for a while. “You're stronger than you look,” She says. She doesn't say what she really wants to—you're beautiful.

Tai gets frustrated when you bump into things. Frustrated with herself, not you. And when you got sick from eating the wrong plant one time? She didn't leave your side all night. “You’re too smart to die from something dumb,” she told you. You smiled at her, before replying with “guess I need a watchdog” to her. She didn't answer after that, but since that incident, she's always been walking on your left—your blind side—and hovering near you. Not too close, just enough to assist you.

Van Palmer:

Van teased you constantly before the crash, and she still does after it. She loved calling you “Specs” before the crash, but now? She's calling you “Velma” and you hate it, but lowkey love it. And despite being the one who teases you a lot, she's also the one who holds your hand through the woods so you don't trip. Her teasing, while it usually was to poke a bit of fun at you before, is actually more protective now. “Don't worry, four eyes—I'll be your seeing eye dog.” She joked to you once.

She sees how hard you're trying without your eyeglasses, and that's what drives her to be fiercely protective of you. If anyone else than her teased you, she'd get weirdly protective of you. “She's like, almost, as blind as a bat” Mari comments once. “Not as blind as you thinking Travis was hot shit,” Van quickly came to your defenses. She's one of the only ones who doesn’t treat you like you’re fragile, and instead pushes you to be involved on the team.

“You're hot without the eyeglasses,” She tells you one night. “Like, librarian goes feral hot.” You blush, and she grins at that. But it's not a joke. She actually means it. That same night, she scoots closer to you so she could be sitting beside you by the fire. Then she lets your shoulder rest against hers. “You're not broken, you know? Despite what everyone says,” She whispers to you. You just stare at her for a few seconds, before smiling softly at her. And that? That does things to her heart.

Natalie Scatorccio:

Nat doesn’t like vulnerability, especially not her own. But when she sees you struggling to see? She feels something she doesn’t expect: protectiveness. She pretends to be annoyed when you trip or ask someone to identify something, but then she's always stepping in. “Here,” She says, tossing you something. “It’s aspirin, or maybe poison.” She shrugs “Up to you.” Then she leaves. She teaches you how to shoot even though you can’t aim. “In case I’m not around,” is what she muttered to you when you asked her about it. “You’re more useful than Jackie,” she says one day. You laugh, then stop, when you realize she’s serious.

She's almost always smoking near you, so she can see you wrinkle your nose and try to figure out who on the team nearby you is smoking. You tend to ask her a lot of things, and while she's annoyed by it a bit, she always answers your questions. Nat thinks it's only fair because you listen to her a lot and never judge her. You're cool like that, so that's why she starts gravitating to you. One night, you're squinting really hard at her and trying to read her expression. “What?” Nat asks. “Trying to see if you’re smirking or scowling.” You replied. Nat chuckles, genuinely. “What if I’m both?” You simply smile at her, and it makes her cheeks turn a bit red.

She listens to you and watches you more than she talks. And if someone jokes badly about your vision, she's quick to snap back with something cold in return to that person. Nat won't admit anything emotional unless something else comes up. But she offers you half a cigarette—her last one. And that’s the closest thing to a love confession you’ll ever get from her. One night, when everyone else on the team is asleep inside the cabin, you told her that you missed the stars because they're all a blur to you now. And Nat? She decides to lead you outside to the front porch and describes them to you. Every single one, as best as she can.

Lottie Matthews:

Lottie isn’t a prophet yet, but she feels things. And you being practically blind without your eyeglasses? She thinks that's somehow a sign of something. That you're closer to the wilderness than the rest of them. It really isn't, but you can't tell the girl otherwise because you think it's just the fact all of you guys are stranded in the middle of nowhere in the forest taking a toll on her. That, and she's always gently guiding you around. Sometimes you rely on people's voices because it gets tiring to constantly be manhandled or pushed to the sidelines, but Lottie is the only one who doesn't do that and her voice is oddly soothing.

She starts sitting close to you, always speaking softly and asking questions about how you feel rather than what the hell you can see like everyone else on the team. “You always speak like you're sure of what you're doing,” Lottie tells you. “Even when you’re squinting at a tree.” You don't know what to make up of it honestly. Like, is she complimenting you or insulting you somehow? Nevertheless, you laugh it off and tell her thanks in response. She starts bringing you small things like flowers, stones, tokens of some sort, etc believing it’ll help you connect more with your surroundings somehow. You don't believe it will but you take it anyway.

And before you know it, you become part of her inner circle (CULT) without realizing it. She even put ash on your forehead during a ritual and told you that you were chosen too. Something about you being the one who dreams for the group and some other shit. There's a moment where you weren't able to tell she was the one near you, so you went close to her and touched her face to recognize her. Lottie was completely surprised by it, but then she smiled and said “you’re beautiful like this.” You quickly backed away from her, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly and apologizing if you made her uncomfortable. Lottie chuckles.

Laura Lee:

Laura Lee is genuinely concerned for you when she sees just how much you struggle doing anything without your eyeglasses properly. And her concern for you shows in small thoughtful actions like: bringing you things, making sure you're not left behind, and etc. Whether you wanted her to or not, she prays for you at night and asks god to protect you more than usual because you can't even see danger itself coming to you when it's around. She's quick to grow fond of you, not out of obligation but admiration. Despite how hard things have gotten for you without your eyeglasses, you're resilient through all of it.

When you joked about being blind and helpless, Laura Lee was quick to reply. “You’re not helpless,” She tells you. “You just… see with your heart now.” You just stared at her for a few minutes quietly before replying. “That actually somehow made me feel better with myself” before laughing. Despite not being as religious as her and so, you ask her questions about theology out of genuine curiosity. “You’re the only one who listens,” She says one night while you're both near the fire. “It’s… nice.” The next day, you kissed her on the cheek by accident because of aiming wrong and Laura Lee dies (in a gay way) due to it.

She holds your hand when you walk. Sometimes you think she's doing it for you, but sometimes, it feels like it's for her. You don't mind it either way, because despite being with everyone else on the team who survived, it feels like you don't have anyone but each other through it all. One night, while you were trying to sleep, you heard her praying out loud for you. You pretended to sleep through it, but then a few days later, you decided to ask why she does it. And she just says “because I want you to be okay, and because I care.” You want to doubt her, but you can feel the truth in her voice somehow and you believe her.

Misty Quigley:

The girl latches onto usefulness, and since you're practically useless without your eyeglasses now? That makes you hers. Between you and Coach Ben, she tends to look after you more. I mean, Coach Ben can't even move without assistance from someone or something. You? You can move as freely as you want, but you can't see things clearly which makes you extremely vulnerable to your surroundings. So, she takes charge of guiding you and gets very weirdly possessive about it. She insists to everyone on the team that she's the only one who can help you properly, and gets pouty if anyone else tries. While you appreciate her help, it pisses you off.

You can do things without her pretty fine, but she will still insist on helping you out because she likes being needed. Especially by you. Misty fucking memorizes your needs: where you trip, what you can't read, what you like, and so. And she fulfills them without you even asking. Regardless of how you feel about her, you always listen to her talk and thank her. “I’m your eyes now,” she cheerfully tells you one day. “You don’t need anyone else.” You laugh, feeling a bit weirded out by her words. “Well, that's good” You replied. “Because I don't think anyone else on the team than you could do a better job at being my eyes.” She beams at that.

You complained about wanting to see things better even without your eyeglasses to her one day, and since then, she's been describing your guys surroundings so you can picture it. But really, it's just so she speak to you more. And despite your feelings toward Misty, she's actually pretty good at describing things because you can actually picture what she's describing in vivid detail. One night, she was touching your face really gently when wiping dirt off from your cheek, when she spoke. “I’d never let you get lost.” She whispered to you. It both sounded comfortable and threatening, like a promise and a warning somehow.

[weneeya]

pretty for me? m.list | rules

pairing. sylus x reader

note. hiiii first time writing with sylus, or with any of the lads boys, but i felt like this idea was perfect for him so here you are, enjoy <3

You rarely had fights with Sylus, mostly because you had the man wrapped around your little finger ; he would never do anything that could make you uncomfortable or could really make you angry. He was a tease, and getting reactions out of you was something he liked a lot, but he never crossed the line of making you really mad.

But this time, he got too far. Way too far. He had spent an awful day where nothing had been going the way he wanted and you just happened to be here when he was about to crash out. He didn’t want to pass his nerves on you, of course not ; but you said the wrong thing and he just snapped. 

“When do you ever shut up?” The words left his mouth before he could think of them. He was quick to realise what he had just told you, but before he could add anything for his defense, he saw your frown and the hurt in your eyes. “Go to hell, Sylus,” you told him before you shut the door behind you in one hard move. 

How dumb he was to think you would come back so soon. You both had a party tonight, one you would never miss and he knew it. You were supposed to go together, but as the time passed, he finally understood that you were probably already there, and alone. Sylus didn’t like the idea, not at all. He could already imagine all those guys looking at you like you were free to get. Fools. Like they ever get a chance with you. 

He made his way to this stupid party on the back of his motorcycle, hating the way he couldn’t feel your arms wrapped around his waist to be sure you wouldn’t fall from here. You should be here, with him ; but he also knew it was all his fault. He needed to make it up to you, and he would. He got off the bike when he finally arrived in front of the building, taking off his helmet to put it in its safe place on the vehicle. 

Sylus was walking through the people, not even caring answering the one saying hi or asking him stupid questions. Except that he noticed how no one was talking about the lack of your presence by his side. It only confirmed his thoughts : you were already here. He felt his blood boiling in his veins while he made his way to the main room. 

He almost froze in his place when his eyes fell on a figure he knew all too well. His hands had run over it more than enough to know it by heart. You were right here, laying against a wall while you seemed so focused on your discussion with the random guy he didn’t know. He trusted you enough to know you wouldn’t do anything, but the way this man was roaming his eyes on you made him lose his mind. 

You were technically facing him, and it didn’t take you long before you noticed his broad figure in the entrance of the room. A light grin tucked at the corners of your lips, and he saw it almost immediately. You were playing with him. Perhaps he deserved it, yes, but he wouldn’t let you get away with this so easily. He walked towards you until he was right behind the poor guy who had no idea of how taken you already were. 

The man was about to say something when he felt a strong hand resting on his shoulder. He turned around, ready to shout at the one bothering him, when he saw Sylus’s on him. He stopped almost immediately, then Sylus’s voice could be heard. “Can I talk to her?” He asked, clearly rhetorically, and the guy just nodded quickly before running away from here, leaving you alone with Sylus. You crossed your arms and sighed, not even glancing at the white haired man in front of your very eyes. 

“My girl sure is pretty tonight. Is that for me?” A light smirk was dancing on his lips while he let his eyes traveled all over your finger without a single hint of shame. You looked back at him, clearly not amused by his words. If he thought he would get you back so easily, he was even stupider than what you thought. “I don’t want to see you. “ Your words were harsh, and it made him realise even more how much he hurted you with his words. 

You were about to turn away so you could leave him on his own, when you felt his hand slipping in yours so gently. He could have just grabbed your wrist and forced you to stay ; he was stronger than you, But he didn’t. He purposely caught your hand in the softest way he ever did in a public place before. You turned around slowly so you would face him once again, you could swear you never saw him looking at you like this before. Well, maybe not never, but it was a sight rare enough to be noticing it and marking it in the calendar. 

“Can we just talk about this? Please.” His voice was closer to a whisper now, and you swore it had awakened something deep inside your stomach that you tried to ignore. Sylus wasn’t the kind of guy who said please so easily ; and now he sounded so desperate. You pushed those thoughts to the back of your head, it wasn’t the right time for this. 

You had to stay angry at him, at least for a little longer. Even if he seemed to have understood how wrong he had been, your own ego needed to prove to itself that he was able to survive his pleading eyes. “Fine, but be quick.” Sylus saw this as a victory. He knew you well enough to be aware that if you were really still angry at him, you would have ignored him. 

He was quick in his moves when he guided you upstairs to an empty room, locking it right behind him. He looked at you trying to be angry at him, and he had to restrain himself from smiling at the view. You were so adorable when you were playing anger. He made you sit down on the edge of the bed but, before you could even think about him sitting next to you, he was kneeling down in front of you. 

“Listen baby. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Do you think you can forgive me?” He was clearly playing along with your fake annoyance, you could tell it so easily. Yet, you kind of appreciate this situation. Maybe you could take advantage of it for once. “I’m not sure I can,” you answered while looking down at him.

Gently, his hand took your wrist so he could begin to leave soft kisses against your palm. His lips were more brushing your skin than really touching it, and it sent shivers all the way down to your spine. His kisses slowly moved to your wrist, then to your arm, his fingers slowly caressing the skin up your arm to leave free space for his lips. In between his gentle touches, he was murmuring sweet words and soft pleas to you. You hated this. Hated how easy it was for him to make you completely head over heels. He had too much of an impact on you for your own good. 

“Fine, okay, I forgive you! Stop this now, for God’s sake.” You mumbled in a hitched breath which made him chuckle. A low chuckle that sent jolts in your stomach. “Why would I stop when my angel looks so pretty?” He asked all innocently when he was anything but innocent right now. This man would be the death of you one day. You didn’t even want him to stop, it was just nonsense to even think about doing such things in a room that wasn’t yours. 

He finally stopped his sweet torture, making you sigh from both relief and disappointment. Sylus slowly stood up from the ground, offering his hand to you. You grabbed it, and the second after, you were pulled closer to his side. He left a kiss on your temple before glancing down at you. “Let’s leave this shitty place. I still need to prove to you how sorry I am.” And you knew exactly what he meant by those words. You didn’t even want to stay here anyway. Nothing related to your stomach doing flips because of his hand on your hip. Of course not. “Yeah, let’s get home.”

thank you for reading <3

[e1e4n0r5]

Their Little Plaything: 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing: Bullies Cait & Vi x Loner Nerd Reader

Words: 4500

Synopsis: Cait and Vi try to earn your forgiveness...in their way.

Warnings: Bullying/mocking, power imbalance, FFF threesome, ANGST!!!!, fingering (r! receiving), strap-on, description of masturbation with sex toys, gaslighting/emotional manipulation, dub-con sex (r! is emotionally distressed throughout but never says no), dub-con filming of sex, oral sex (r! receiving, r! giving), mild degradation, dirty talk, praise kink, finger sucking, anal fingering (r! receiving), anal sex (r! receiving), double penetration with straps, that thing where one person uses their mouth to give someone a drink 👀

Notes: Poor Reader really goes through it, folks 😣

You sat at your usual corner table, quietly and miserably reading a textbook, trying to get back into your study habits, when a soft accented voice spoke.

“Sorry to bother you; are you Y/N?”

You looked up, really not wanting to talk to the pretty redhead with freckles. “Can I help you?”

“Sorry, we haven’t met before. I’m Maddie. Can we talk?”

You frowned. “I'm sorry, Maddie, it's not a good time for me. I-I’m just getting over a sickness-”

She ignored you. “Cait and Vi. Caitlyn Kiramman and Violet Lanes. You're with them, right? I was too, last summer. At least until they just stopped texting me.”

Your stomach twisted. Great. An upset ex. Just what you needed in your vulnerable state. “Maddie, I don’t know what happened between the three of you, and I really don't want to talk-”

She regarded you closely. “Have you found the cameras yet?”

Your heart stopped. “Excuse me?”

“In their house; in the backgrounds of some of the photos they send you...?”

In the house?! Where were they hidden? You hadn’t just had sex in the bedroom, they would have footage from all over the house.

Your jaw clenched. “Listen, I don't know what you're talking about-” you tried to deny.

“Do you guys have a group chat?”

“Uh...”

“What's it called?” she asked, tilting her head like a challenge.

“I don't think-”

“Is it called Plaything?”

You felt sick again, like the world was spinning. You had to swallow down bile. “How did you-?”

“Because that's what ours was called too,” she explained as she sat down across from you, holding her phone out to show you. It was a group chat history. At the bottom, it said ‘Unknown and Unknown have left the chat’, and at the top the name was clearly listed as ‘Plaything’.

She scrolled up to the very top of the chat for you. “Go ahead, have a read. See if anything’s familiar.”

You took the phone out of her hands, skimming through it as your own hands shook.

You [Maddie]: have either of you found my underwear? I can't find them

Unknown: those are ours now

You: what?! You can't keep them!

Unknown: And why not? We earned them last night. Several times over

You read further down to a few weeks later.

You: ok this has to stop, I'm running out of underwear! Are you guys going to replace what you've taken? Or at least give it all back?

Unknown: not a chance

Unknown: And don't get greedy, darling

You: I'm not being greedy but you've taken so many! I need them! I only have about ten pairs left!

Unknown: not our problem

You: It’s your fault though!! You take them every time

Unknown: So you think you deserve a treat?

You: I’m not trying to sound greedy or ungrateful but one of our families is super rich and could definitely afford to replace my stolen underwear 👀

Unknown: We’ll see. Maybe if you’re a good girl for long enough, you can have a treat

Your stomach twisted. That was exactly what Cait had said to you.

Still scrolling, you saw thousands of messages spanning a few months. And then, inevitably, you came across pictures. Checking the dates, they had been together for roughly the same amount of time as you had.

Maddie was more confident with the camera than you were, not afraid to get up close to it. One photo was a close up of her smiling, fucked out face, chin glistening with juices. Another video had her fucking herself with a toy whilst Vi stood over her and she ate her pussy, Cait obviously recording. Photos of Cait’s manicured hand squeezing Maddie's cheeks firmly, Maddie sticking her tongue out as her blurry eyes tried to focus on the camera. GIFs of them both fucking her at the same time, in the same position they had with you for the first time.

Disgusted and queasy again, you put her phone down on the table, a little harder than intended.

“What do you want?” you demanded, crossing your arms, trying to keep your coffee in your stomach.

She shrugged. “I'm honestly not sure-”

“Then why did you bother coming up to me? If you don't know what you want, why couldn't you just leave me alone?” you snapped.

She looked you over. “Oh, yeah, you’ve found the cameras. I remember crashing out like this when I found one in the kitchen.”

“Kitchen?!”

“Yeah, it’s hidden in the wall near that bit of island. Did they make you bend over it whilst they fucked you?”

Your heart broke. “They did all this to you too?” you whispered.

Maddie smiled at you in pity. “Oh, my love, I think they've done this to lots of girls. We're just the latest ones.” She raised her coffee cup to yours in a mock toast. “To the victims of Cait and Vi.”

“How many others are there?”

She sipped her iced latte. “Well, there’s you, then me just before summer. Before that was Kylie, in the spring. Andrea was last fall, so this time last year. There were a few others before that but I don’t know much detail. One girl left the university; she was so fucked up.”

“How do you even know all this?” you asked sceptically.

She smiled ruefully. “Exactly like this. Kylie came up to me and told me everything she’d been through, showed me the photos and videos too. The group chat called Plaything. A shocking pattern of behaviour from Cait and Vi, I have to say. Kylie was more investigative though, she was able to use social media a lot more thoroughly than I ever could. She could show you a presentation with a timeline if you wanted.”

You blanched. “What? How?”

“Well, it was quite impressive. Got to say, it did feel a bit stalkerish, but still impressive! If her degree doesn’t work out, she could be a PI. Basically, she compared photos and videos that the previous girls had sent her, to Cait's and Vi's social media. Like I said, a bit stalkerish, but a lovely girl nonetheless.”

Your head hurt and your heart broke. How many girls had they done this to?

Cait opened the door, looking at you in pleased surprise.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she smiled, letting you in. “To what do we owe this pleasure? Are you feeling better?”

You nodded numbly. “A bit.”

“Good, I'm pleased to hear that. Vi will be too; she's a bit of a germaphobe. But we've both missed you terribly.” She smiled down at you, and you struggled to stay angry. “Vi's in the shower at the moment. Shall we entertain ourselves until she's out?” she winked at you, leading you into the sitting room.

“Well, I was looking through some of the photos you sent me,” you said, getting your phone out and tapping through it.

Cait smiled. “Oh, yes? Which one was your favourite? Should we recreate it?”

“This one,” you turned your phone around to show her the image of the two of you kneeling on the bed, the one you’d showed Powder.

She nodded. “That’s a good one; you look quite lovely in that.”

You hardened yourself not to blush at the compliment. “Do you know what my favourite part is?”

“You tell me,” she instructed softly, her pupils dilating.

“This part,” you turned the phone back to you and zoomed in on a section of the photo, turning your phone back to her.

The playfulness left her eyes but she kept the smile plastered on her face, unmoving.

“You know what that is?” you asked.

She hesitated, then shook her head. “No,” she lied. “Enlighten me.”

“It’s a camera. More specifically, a HexTech Pocket Camera 3000. Brand new this year. Very expensive, almost six figures. Your parents’ money bought it though, I suppose. And I’ve already checked the manufacturer’s website: that little red light means it’s recording video.”

Cait said nothing. Her hands trembled slightly, so she crossed her arms.

“Except when you took this photo, you never mentioned another camera.”

“Is this going somewhere, Y/N?” she demanded stonily.

“How long have you been doing this? Recording me, during sex? Without my knowledge? Because I remember the first time you asked to do it. But now, I can’t imagine that being the first time you actually did it.”

She said nothing.

“Cait!”

“Piltover is a one-party consent-”

You laughed coldly in her face. “Don’t even try that. Don’t even fucking try that with me, Kiramman. You knew what you were doing was wrong. That’s why you hid it! That’s why you didn’t tell me you were recording, because you knew I wouldn’t have wanted you to! Who else has seen this?!” you screamed at her, brandishing your phone.

“No-one,” she replied firmly.

You scoffed. “You really expect me to believe that the girls who secretly films people having sex are so above showing it to other people?”

“I mean it: no-one else has, or ever will, see any of the photos or videos we have.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better about you invading my privacy?”

Cait laughed bitterly. “You were very enthusiastic at the time.”

“For the sex! And the one photo that you specifically asked if you could take. Not for the recording you didn’t tell me about!” Your eyes were slowly filling with tears. “Why do you do it? Hmmm? Take sneaky videos of people? Is it some weird kink or something? Some fetish? A control thing?”

Cait rolled her jaw, looking away.

“How many other girls have you done this to?”

That made her head snap back. “What makes you ask that?”

“Who the fuck is Maddie? And Kylie? And Andrea?”

She took a breath, looking physically wounded from a blow. “They were a long time-”

“It was not ‘a long time ago’! You were with Maddie at the end of Sophomore year, that is not ‘a long time ago’, Cait, we’re Juniors! You were both fucking her for months, doing the same thing – taking sneaky photos and videos – but she never confronted you about it. Yes, she found out,” you snapped at Cait’s alarmed face, “She knew you were doing it but she never said anything because she didn’t want you to break up with her.”

“We weren’t in a relationship, there was no ‘breaking up’.”

“You ghosted her over summer break, blocked her number and socials, then came back this year and acted like you didn’t know her. And the reason you acted that way was because you found your new fixation. Me. You didn’t need Maddie anymore, you had me. Your new Plaything. Very unimaginative of you, by the way, using the same group chat name with us all! And yes, I’ve seen the messages!”

Cait staggered back a few steps and began to pace, laughing in discomfort. “You are being so…Dramatic right now, Y/N,” she said tersely.

Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. It felt like your chest was splitting open. “I trusted you both. I actually thought-”

“Oh, please,” she cut in, rolling her eyes. “You like being wanted. You like being fucked by two women who know how to handle you, you like being our good girl. Don’t act like some innocent virgin now just because you found a little camera in the background of – what was, undoubtedly – one of the best nights of your life.”

You flinched. Your lip trembled.

She saw it. She went too far. And for a moment, something flickered in her eyes. Then she stepped toward you, slower now. Controlled. Calculating.

"You’re angry," she said, voice softening. “I understand.” Her tone dropped as she closed the space between you. “But you still want this.”

“Don’t,” you said hoarsely, taking a small step back.

Her hand came up, barely grazing your hip, testing you. “You came here because you wanted answers,” she murmured. “But I think you also came here because you want us to make it up to you. And we will, in the best way we know how.” Her hands cupped your shaking jaw. “You want us to take away the anger, don’t you, the hurt? You want to feel our hands again? Our mouths on you?”

You were shaking, but you weren’t pulling away. “You can’t seduce your way out of this,” you whimpered as you cried.

She chuckled throatily. “Well, let’s just see if we can.”

And then she kissed you. Hard, possessive, without apology.

And God help you, you kissed her back, even as the tears streamed down your face. How could you be so weak? How pathetic could you be, giving in after a single kiss and some sweet words whispered in your ear.

She pulled your dress up over your hips, squeezing your ass firmly, kneading your flesh. You whined into her mouth. She pushed your bag and jacket off your shoulders, pulling your dress all the way up, breaking apart from your mouth briefly to throw it over your head.

You realised you still held your phone in one hand. You pulled away, sniffing, looking for somewhere to put it down.

“No, baby, come here,” she urged softly, pulling you by the hand to a nearby chaise longue. She sat you down, pushing you back gently. Settling herself between your legs, she kissed your stomach and breasts, squeezing them tenderly.

“Open the camera, sweetheart,” she ordered, looking you in the eye as she sucked one of your nipples through your cream lace bra. A treat from them, they liked you in white underwear.

“What?” you asked shakily, your face still wet with tears.

“Do as I say,” she said firmly, switching to your other nipple.

With a whimper, you obeyed, opening your camera app.

“Put it on me, baby, and take whatever you want. As many photos and videos as you want. We’ve got all night.”

Your lip trembled as you wanted to say no. But she gave you her stern look that melted away all your resistance, and with a sad hiccup, you pressed record.

Looking straight at you through the camera, Cait kissed down your stomach until she got to your covered pussy, never breaking eye contact with the camera lens as she slowly, seductively, eased your panties down your legs, looping them a few times around her wrist.

“Do I look good, baby? Is the lighting okay?”

You nodded weakly, watching her through your screen.

“So does this,” she pressed a kiss to your clit, “look okay?”

You whimpered, “Yes.”

“And this?” She licked up your slit.

You whined. “Yes.”

“What about this?” She wiggled her tongue over your clit from side to side.

“Fuck!” you cried out. “Yes! Yes, that's good!”

She laughed. “Just wanted to check.”

She closed her eyes and started feasting on your pussy. Licking up and down your slit, sucking your clit, sliding her tongue inside you. All the while, you panted and cursed, still pointing your phone at her. Every so often, she would open her eyes to see if you were still recording. When she saw you were, she winked at the camera, emboldened by its presence.

“What’s going on here?” asked a playful voice.

Vi.

You looked up from the camera, seeing Vi leaning against the doorjamb, a pristine white towel around her waist. Just peeking out the top of towel was a black harness, barely visible. She was strapped up.

She approached you both, the outline of the strap becoming visible through the towel. Cait didn't respond or acknowledge her girlfriend, just kept eating your pussy, moaning into your skin. Vi knelt next to the chaise longue, stroking your tear-stained cheek.

“Are you sad, baby?”

You nodded pitifully, your cheeks still wet and puffy from tears.

“But how can you be sad when you're getting your pussy eaten?” she mocked, licking away some tears.

Before you could respond, Vi captured your mouth in a deep kiss, swirling her tongue with yours. Cupping your jaw in her hand, she moaned into your mouth, sucking your tongue. You moaned back, your hips starting to move against Cait’s mouth.

“You gonna cum for her, sweetheart?” Vi asked, running a hand over your breasts.

You nodded breathlessly. “Need to cum.”

“How badly do you need to cum?”

You groaned when Cait slid her fingers inside you. “So bad! Need to cum, Vi.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Well, we could let you. I suppose?” she taunted. She cupped your breasts over your bra, feeling their weight in her hands. Bending down over your chest, she pulled your bra down, kissing and licking your breasts. “Fuck, your tits are perfect,” she breathed, pulling your nipple into her mouth, sucking deeply. The pressure made you gasp, your pussy clenching on Cait’s fingers. Switching nipples, she tugged the one she just released.

“Gods...” You whimpered, moving your hips into Cait’s face. She moved to your clit in response, sucking your button and flicking her tongue over it. “I need to cum, I need to cum!” you gasped.

“Ask nicely,” Vi commanded, taking hold of your throat.

“Please let me cum, Vi! Cait, please!”

“Your decision, Cupcake,” Vi said to Cait.

The blue-haired woman took pity on you, sucking your clit harder and working her fingers faster. With a cry, you orgasmed on the chaise, your hips rocking back and forth as your free hand held Cait’s head to you.

Vi eased the phone out of your hand, moving down to kneel next to Cait. She filmed Cait’s fingers slowing down inside you and spreading your lips to expose your leaking hole. You squirmed uncomfortably under them, watching them watch your pussy. It was hot – seeing them almost obsess over you – but you also felt very exposed. Vulnerable. The rabbit in front of the wolves.

Cait scooped up the last of your juices on her fingers. Vi flipped the camera to use the front lens, recording Cait slide her fingers into her mouth, moaning as she got her first taste of you, your bare pussy and spread legs still visible in the shot. Vi kept eye contact with the camera as Cait thrust her fingers in and out of Vi’s mouth, eventually sliding all the way in and hitting Vi’s gag reflex. After that, Cait withdrew her fingers, and Vi stopped recording.

You made it upstairs, and the hours that followed were delicious yet emotionally draining for you. Vi and Cait seemed to want to overload you with orgasms, but never stopped taking photos and videos. Always in your view, always announcing when they picked up a phone or a camera. ‘Let me take a pic, baby’, ‘You look so perfect, I have to save this’, ‘Let me show you what you look like, sweetheart’.

While Vi lay back on the rug in the middle of their bedroom, you straddled her and slowly slid down the strap. But only after Cait announced the camera she had set up on the floor between Vi’s bent legs, offering up the perfect view of your pussy stretching over and sliding down the silicone.

You suddenly became conscious of the view that would be captured, but Vi’s hands on your face and firm kisses distracted you long enough to get the toy into your pussy. She held your mouth to hers, intertwining your tongues, until she could hear you panting for breath. She released your mouth, but held your head looking at her.

Cait moved behind you – which you couldn't see because of Vi’s grip – and you heard something screwing open, followed by a wet sound.

“What’s happening?” you asked Vi, panicking as she held your head and neck tightly, not letting you look around.

“Don't worry, baby, it's fine,” she said softly, slowly starting to move the toy inside you. But it did nothing to comfort you.

“Vi, please,” you begged, starting to cry again. “Cait, what are you doing?”

“It's alright, sweetheart,” she said, stroking your back hole with her fingertips, rubbing the expensive coconut oil around your ring.

You gasped when she did, jolting against Vi, who had the strength to keep you in place.

“See?” Vi soothed. “Nothing to worry about. We've done this before.”

“Breathe for me,” Cait instructed softly, lining up her fingers to your hole. Vi helped you breathe, then Cait slowly slid two slick fingers inside you. You whined when she did, already feeling full from the toy in your pussy. “Rock for us, sweetheart,” she asked, rubbing her hand over your hips. Vi moved one hand to your hips, helping you grind between her toy and Cait’s fingers.

An involuntary moan escaped your lips, the slight stretching in your pussy and ass making your clit throb as you rocked your hips. They praised you well, possibly hoping to ease your tears. It didn’t work. Your tears kept pouring even as you moaned, your body taking over. Maybe because it felt so good? Maybe to protect your heart from breaking?

Cait settled on her knees behind you, rubbing the tip of her slicked strap against you. “Ready to do this again, sweetheart?” she asked in your ear, already sliding into your ass.

You keened, long and low, as she filled your ass, rubbing up against Vi’s strap in your pussy. You sobbed at how good it felt; hating how good it felt, how good they made you feel. Vi kept kissing you, ignoring your tear-stained cheeks, rocking her hips under yours.

You came three times between them before they did, your traitorous pussy leaking juices over them every time.

When she finished, her own cum coating her thighs, Cait withdrew from your ass, getting up from behind you, knocking the camera over. She headed into the bathroom, sweat coating her brow. She took off her strap, washed her hands and face, and poured a glass of water.

Heading back into the bedroom, she approached you both.

“Sweetheart, you need a drink,” she said softly.

Draped on top of Vi, her strap still inside your pussy, you moaned weakly. You struggled to prop yourself up, but managed eventually. You waited for Cait to hold the glass to your lips, but she didn’t.

She held your jaw, her thumb stroking your cheek. “Do you forgive us, baby?” she asked softly.

Fuck you.

The words burned in your chest, and your eyes burned with tears again.

Seeing your distress, Cait smiled. “It’s alright. It’s okay. Here,” she held up the glass to your lips, letting you drink slowly as you glared at her.

When you swallowed, Vi gently rolled the two of you over, her strap never leaving you. “Give me some,” she asked Cait. She swallowed a few gulps, then propped you up in a half-seated position under her, her muscled arm supporting your torso without issue. She took a mouthful of water, keeping it in her mouth, and pressed her lips to yours. To your surprise, she forced your mouth open and shared the water with you.

You coughed and swallowed, not expecting that. You couldn’t tell if you liked that.

She did it again. Taking another mouthful from the glass, she pressed her mouth to yours again. Knowing what to expect, you opened your mouth, more prepared the second time.

Vi nodded at Cait to finish the glass and go get some more. She looked down at you, nudging her hips into yours. “Ready to go again?”

Hours later, Vi angled the camera on the coffee table at the side of you so you could see.

“What about this, baby?” She straightened up behind you, showing the camera the sight of her behind you, your ass in the air, your back gracefully curved. “Do you like how this looks?” she asked, giving a few small thrusts inside you.

How was she not tired?! You were exhausted and aching, sure your pussy would soon be swollen shut.

You moaned, gasping when Vi slid deeper into you, able to tell the depth from the side-view in the camera.

She chuckled. “I’m so deep, baby. So deep inside you. Put your hand on your tummy, do you feel me?”

You moved your hand to your lower stomach, gasping when you felt movement under your palm.

Vi laughed. “Now, do you want the rest?”

Your head almost shot round.

“Yeah, baby, that's not it,” she slowly moved a little deeper, making you groan as she went deeper than you thought she could.

“Can I hop back in?” Cait teased, rubbing her clit in front of you.

You wanted to say no, that you were still so fucking furious with her, that she didn't deserve to have her pussy eaten. But as she stroked her beautiful wet pussy in front of you, your mouth watered, and you wanted her.

You nodded, lifting your head a little. She sat down in front of you, spreading her pussy open for you. You pulled her hips forward and latched onto her clit, sucking like you hated her. She gasped as you did, unused to the pressure from you. She rocked against your mouth, running her hands through your hair.

“God, baby,” she moaned, “you’re so good at this.”

“We taught her well,” Vi bragged.

You wanted to shout, to scream, to bite. But you didn’t. You rocked back against Vi as she fucked you with her strap, and you fucked Cait with your mouth and tongue. You got her moaning like a whore, then slowed down your attention until she begged for more. You repeated the cycle, tormenting her, and she let you.

When she came, you forced her to do it again. Vi picked up on what you were doing, wrapping her hand in your hair.

“Don’t get cocky, baby,” she scolded. “Don’t make me fuck your ass harder than this.”

They fucked you until the early morning, until all of you had nothing left to give. You’d passed out together on the floor, wrapped up in a pile of limbs.

You eventually woke, propping yourself up on your elbows, looking around the room. Toys discarded, an empty glass of water knocked over, the small camera discarded and out of battery.

Cait roused next to you. “Do you feel better now, sweetheart?” she asked, kissing your shoulder.

You didn't say anything, just sat up. “I want to see all the photos and videos you have of me.”

Cait tensed a little beside you, but recovered. “Absolutely. Why don't we have a little watch party tomorrow-?” she asked, trailing her hand up your back.

You glared at her over your shoulder.

She removed her hand.

You gingerly got to your feet, walking unsteadily off to the bathroom.

Vi and Cait watched you go, the latter tapping her nails on the floor in thought, your panties still looped around her wrist.

“Don't think she's forgiven us yet,” Vi commented quietly, curling up around Cait.

The blue-haired women hummed. “Give it time. She will.”

@sevikas-whore, @djstinkyfartz, @jinririz, @abbyandcaitlover, @ayuxiru, @bebeluvvv, @youdoyou-andiwilldome, @kittymrtnezz69, @wyprettylilone, @jlb20416, @autisticratbagtm, @theoreticalfreak, @riotstemple29, @zaunite-516, @zmbieeee, @godhatesgoodgirls, @yoyo-w, @milanyas, @unknownomgg, @bella-but-not-hadid444, @marvelwomenarehot0, @nenoino, @opalundercover

[bullet-prooflove]

Speak Your Truth: John Carter x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @anna-bailey @ofsoapsuds @queenslandlover-93 @gemofspace

Summary: John speaks his truth in the aftermath of a tragedy.

Companion piece to:

Little John - You try to keep John's mind off the task at hand.

The First One Is Always The Hardest - You comfort John after the death of a patient.

Forget-Me-Nots - John wakes up hung over in a strange bed and with an unexpected memento of the night before.

The suicide ruins John, it breaks his heart, his will, his mind. He finds himself sitting in a chair in the waiting room staring into the abyss as he goes over all the things he could have said, that he should have said. Even after Benton talks to him it doesn’t ease, it feels like there’s a pressure bearing down on his chest, stealing away his breath.

“Hey…” You say softly as you crouch down in front of him in your street clothes.

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t answer. He just sits there, his eyes fixed on something that you simply can’t see. Your fingers grace his jawline, delicately tipping his chin to meet your gaze. He flinches and you pause, dipping your head instead.  

“John.” You murmur. “This is not your fault, sometimes people are just in too much pain…”

He doesn’t believe it, you can see it in the way his lips purse together as he looks at you with hollowed out eyes. It’s like someone has stole the light right out of them. It hurts to see him like this, in so much pain. You can patch up a physical wound, staunch the bleeding but something like this, it takes time to process, a safe environment to heal in and John, he’s all alone. His parents are in Switzerland, visiting his sister and the other people in his life…

They don’t understand his decision to become a doctor, not when his family have more money than God.

“John.” You say firmly. “I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”

“I’ll be fine.” He responds but you know that’s not true, you can hear it in his voice, how devoid of emotion it is. He’s shutting down completely, cutting himself off from the world. That’s how it starts, you bury the mental anguish and it festers under the surface, poisoning you until you’re the one standing on the edge of that roof.

“But I won’t be.” You say, appealing to the selfless part in him. “I think we both need our friend tonight-”

“You think you need me?” He laughs, it’s a horrible dull sound that vibrates through his chest as he takes your hands in his clasping them tightly. “You don’t, you’re already brilliant and strong and brave and-”

“And I would be none of those things without you.” You kick back, your forehead coming to rest against his. “You think I would have made it this far without you fighting in my corner? Not a chance in hell. You promised me we’d do this together, that we’d take care of one another so let me take care of you. We’ll go back home to my place, put on some shitty movie, eat take out-”

“Crys…” He says helplessly, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I love you, you know that don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” You tell him with a fond smile. “And I love you too…”

“Not like that.” He says, shaking his head. “I mean real love, like the type they write Hallmark movies about. I know that you don’t feel the same way but I watched a woman throw herself off a building today because she couldn’t live her truth and I gotta speak mine. I’m in love with you Crys, I have been for a long time.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[thedonswife13]

Buttercup changed Jake for good. Everyone around the got to really see Jake, he wasn’t just Hangman anymore.

If there’s one thing you can always count on, it’s that Jake is going to be honest. Even if it takes him a minute to get there, he’ll always be honest. Being an empty nesters is a scary thought, especially when Jake’s been a stay at home dad for 11 years (for the most part). I love that he told Buttercup that he doesn’t regret retiring and he’d have retired sooner if it meant keeping their family together….on the other hand I don’t blame her for second guessing it because he didn’t at the time

Knowing that Natasha said she didn’t want to marry Javy because she didn’t want their relationship to end like Jake and Buttercup’s…the two are so similar specifically when it comes to communication. Nat and Javy haven’t figured out how to communicate with each other just like Jake and Buttercup; although the latter have been doing better since they started putting the girls first, they’ve been trying.

Rooster knows those two like the back of his hand atp. He knows they want something and aren’t done trying to push their parents together. “If he wasn’t willing to do stupid shit for them, who was he supposed to do it for?” This makes perfect sense, in my mind Rooster is the fun uncle who gets in trouble alongside the girls.

Truly may be the best description of Jake I’ve ever read: “A sweet man (stubborn and arrogant as all hell, but kind in soul and always towards her)…”. That’s who Jake is. That feeling of safety in someone’s arms isn’t something that everyone has, Buttercup’s house may be in London but, her home is in Texas and he’s blonde with green eyes.

At this point it seems like Buttercup is leaning towards wanting more with Jake but, she’s scared since she feels like everything that happened in their past was her fault. She hurt him, where Jake feels like it’s his fault…seems like it’s time for a conversation like they used to have.

Buttercup definitely needed to hear from Jake that it wasn’t all her, that he had a part in why they fell apart too. Their 3:30 AM grilled cheese and beer conversation was so needed…and a lot changed for them both afterward

As You Wish, Chapter 16

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, references to sex and sexual acts (but nothing is explicit), drinking, longing, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, references to pregnancy and hormones

Jake’s Apartment, Coronado, almost 13 years ago

“Fucking rain,” Jake mumbled, navigating his truck into the closest parking spot he could to the front door of his apartment complex. Beside him, wrapped in a beach towel and soaked to the bone, Buttercup giggled, watching the rain stream down the windshield.

“It’s fine, baby.” She reached over to run a soothing hand through his damp hair. “Not even you can control the weather.”

“Maybe, but I promised you a picnic and now I’m a man who can’t keep his promises.” Jake parked the truck and looked at her. “I never break my promises, Buttercup.”

“Shh, baby, I know,” she grinned at him, gently running her nails over his scalp and the back of his neck. “But nothing says we can’t have a picnic in your apartment.”

“With what food?” Most of the food he had prepared had been opened and gotten rained on when dark clouds had moved surprisingly quickly over the ocean and released their downpour upon the unsuspecting beachgoers. “The only thing that didn’t get ruined is dessert.”

“So?” Buttercup giggled at his forlorn expression. “Our little ones are kinda craving one of Daddy’s grilled cheese sandwiches now anyway.”

At that, Jake’s expression melted. He still couldn’t believe it. Twins. He was gonna be a dad to twins, and what was even better? His Buttercup was their mom. They had found out less than a month ago, and yet everything had changed. All his extra cash was going towards finding a house for them, save for the money he had tucked away for this special occasion. He’d put in all the necessary paperwork with the top brass so that they could do their damndest not to deploy him around her due date and afterwards. Jake Seresin had never thought about being a father, but now that it was happening, he was going to do everything in his power to be the best father he possibly could be to the two little lives he and Buttercup were bringing into the world.

“Alright,” he sighed, reaching down to grab the umbrella he had stashed there. “I suppose I can do that for Mama and our nuggets.”

“Mama and our nuggets thank you, Daddy,” she grinned, moving to open her door.

“Wait, wait,” he huffed, sliding out of his truck and racing over to her side to open her door, popping the umbrella open so that she wouldn’t get any wetter than she already was. “There. Now, let’s get inside before you melt, sugar.”

Buttercup groaned. “That was terrible, baby.”

“What? I’m gonna be a dad. I’m allowed to make dad jokes.” Even six months ago, he wouldn’t have been caught dead making lame jokes like Rooster or Payback, but Buttercup really had changed him.

Shaking her head, Buttercup grabbed the picnic basket and followed him into the apartment complex, leaning into his side as they rode the elevator up to his floor.

Once safe inside, both raced to get changed. Buttercup grabbed one of Jake’s Navy T-shirts and a pair of his gym shorts before going into the bathroom to change and fix her hair. Once the door closed completely, Jake took the small velvet box out of his jeans pocket and put it safely on the dresser before changing into a pair of grey sweatpants and a gym tank, then safely tucked the box into his pocket again.

“Darlin’, I’m gonna go get started on those sandwiches!” he called.

“Wait!” Buttercup emerged, looking playfully disappointed in him. “House rules, baby. You need me with you.”

He grinned and wiggled his fingers at her. “C’mon then. Those babies aren’t gonna wait all day.”

Buttercup followed him into the kitchen where he gently lifted her onto the countertop next to the stove. He kissed her once, twice, then bent to kiss the barely there bump of her abdomen, before gathering all the necessary materials to make grilled cheese.

As he cooked, they talked. About everything. The babies, work, her brother, his family, their friends. Jake couldn’t remember a time he had talked so much, laughed so much. He’d always reveled in his solitude, excepting maybe Javy, who had been with him for so long that he wasn’t an intrusion to his peace. But Buttercup made him crave her presence. He could barely make it through a day without her, and he had no clue how he would manage when he was deployed again. He wanted to be around her always, which was partially why he had that velvet box in his pocket.

Jake plated up the sandwiches and, before he could warn her, she had scooped one up and taken a big bite.

“Hot!” she screeched. “Hot, hot, hot!”

Jake couldn’t help but laugh. “Every time, darlin’. You do it every time.” He waved his hand in front of her mouth, wafting away the steam.

“And every time it’s worth it,” she grinned at him, and he felt something shift in his stomach.

“Oh yeah? What else is worth it?”

She tilted her head quizzically but shrugged. “Taking showers with you even though it takes us twice as long to get ready. Getting up with you at freaking balls a.m. so you can head to early morning flight exercises, just so I can get my morning kiss and see you before you leave for the day. Putting up with your stubborn, arrogant ass because that stubborn, arrogant ass is so damn fine.” She giggled as she spanked him lightly. “I don’t know, Jake. Everything about you and me feels pretty damn worth it.”

He swallowed down his nerves, his stomach feeling as thought he had just hit Mach speed. “Yeah? So worth it that you might want to do it forever?”

Buttercup blinked at him, tears welling in her eyes. “Are you asking?”

Hand slightly shaking, Jake pulled the velvet blue box out of his pocket and held it at her eye level. “Buttercup, I think I’ve loved you since the moment you tapped me out at the 32nd Street Naval Station four months ago. Ever since that day, you’ve made me a better man. I’m a better teammate because you taught me how to deal with people and put my ego aside. I’m a better aviator because I want to come home to you. I’m a better friend because you’ve shown me what true friendship is. And I hope I’ve become a man who deserves you not only now, but 50 years in the future when we’re both old and grey. I’m not asking you this because you’re carrying my babies. I’m asking you this because I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me. So, darlin’, do you think it would be worth it to marry me?”

To her credit, Buttercup didn’t even look down at the glimmering diamond ring shining in the box. No, her tear-filled eyes were trained solely on him, filled with love and wonder.

“Yeah, baby,” her voice trembled. “I think marrying you, Jake Seresin, would be so worth it.”

Jake laughed, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. Now wasn’t the time to cry. “As you wish, darlin’.” Jake pulled the ring out of the box and fitted it onto her finger with a deep kiss, everything else fading away.

Seresin Ranch, Clifton, Texas, Now

“You want to go back?” Buttercup couldn’t keep the panic from her voice. She’d been relieved beyond a shadow of a doubt when she had discovered that Jake had retired from the Navy, that Charlie had her dad home with her 24/7/365. But he wanted to go back? She shook her head. She should have known better than to trust that he was home for good. Jake loved flying, more than anything else in the world. He only gave it up because Charlie was a baby. Now that she was older, he could go back.

“Buttercup, please…”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you wanted to go back?” she asked sharply, finally turning around to meet his stare.

Jake felt a flame alight in his chest and he shot back, “I didn’t think I owed you an explanation.”

Buttercup blinked, shrinking back from him slightly to lean against the counter. “You’re right…” she whispered. “After the divorce, you don’t owe me anything. We only owe everything to our children. Do they know?”

Jake sighed, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. “No, they don’t know. Nobody knows.”

Buttercup’s chest felt like it was going to cave in, though from grief or anger, she wasn’t sure. “Right…great…”

Jake took off his baseball cap and fiddled with the brim in an uncharacteristic moment of vulnerability. “Look, I didn’t mean what I said. You deserve an explanation, I just…” his voice trailed off, and Buttercup suddenly had a vision of a teenage Jake, trying and failing to get himself out of trouble with his parents. She wasn’t used to fumbling, nervous Jake. She was more used to brash, bold, arrogant Hangman. She had fallen for both sides of him, but now the shyer, quieter side of him was just in her way.

“Just what?” Buttercup tapped her foot impatiently. “You just didn’t want to tell me? You just didn’t think I’d care?”

“I never thought you’d find out!” he nearly growled, slamming his hat down on the counter and stepping towards her, not as an intimidation tactic, she realized, but so that she could see the earnestness in his eyes. “Yes, I put some feelers out to see what it would take to go back in six years. Why? Because in six years, Charlie plans to go to California to study veterinary medicine. When Charlie graduates high school, Rooster is planning on moving to Austin and opening his own restaurant. Javy’s already got college recruiters sniffing around. Not the players, but him. They want him to go coach college level ball if the Cougars keep doing well, which they will because he’s a damn good coach. Louisiana State is keeping their eye on him, and he’s pretty keen on going. Within six years, this place is gonna be empty, and it sure doesn’t need me to run it. Cathy and Cliff, our ranch managers, do a better job of running the joint than I ever could. All they need me for is signing the checks.” Jake’s chest heaved. “You’re across an ocean giving TED Talks and having your books turned into movies, and I’m sitting here on my ass, twiddling my thumbs. Flying is the only thing I could see myself doing again, so when I met General Beaumont on the golf course, I mentioned it to him. He told me to talk it out with his daughter, Savannah, and that if she thought I was worth his time, he might be willing to pull some strings and get me back in.” Jake’s eyes were wide, almost begging her to understand. “I don’t regret retiring when I did. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Hell, I’d do it sooner if I thought it meant keeping our family together. But now…I don’t know, sweetheart, when I was faced with the prospect of being an empty nester, I panicked. I don’t know if I want to go back or what I’ll do in six years, but I didn’t want you to find out until I was sure, and I sure as hell didn’t want you to find out through Simpson.” Jake met her gaze, the forest green sparkling as they revealed to her how sincere he was being. “Can you say something? Please?” he murmured, taking a step closer.

“I…”

“Mum? Dad?”

Buttercup nearly groaned in relief. Jake had just laid everything bare at her feet, and she didn’t know how to respond, though she knew that she had to, so Abby’s interruption was a welcome relief.

“Yeah, babe?” she called back, peeking around Jake’s shoulder to see her daughter standing at the French doors, Charlie a few feet behind her.

“We want to go in the pool again, but Reuben and Maryanne said we needed to ask you for permission first.”

Buttercup sighed, but it was Jake who responded. “Sure thing, kiddo. I’ll be right there to watch you.”

Abby nodded, peering at them suspiciously before closing the doors behind her.

“Jake, I—”

“It’s alright, Buttercup,” his grin wasn’t as wide or as bright as it had been in the recent days. “Just promise me we can talk about this later?” She couldn’t help but nod. “Alright. Thank you. I’ll go keep an eye on the kids, okay?”

She nodded, unable to meet his eyes. “I’ll clean up the mess we made so that nobody slips and breaks their neck.”

“Thank you.” He nodded and left, swinging the double doors closed behind him as Buttercup grabbed a towel and crouched behind the island.

Her mind was spinning, and she forced herself to take a few calming breaths, just like her yoga instructor always told them. Jake wanted to go back to the Navy…but he didn’t. He said that he would’ve gotten out of the Navy earlier if it would have kept their family together, but he hadn’t. He didn’t seem to know what he wanted, and who could blame him? They’d been forced into this situation by two blackmailing almost-12-year-old girls. It wasn’t like he had looked her up or she had searched for him. Perhaps if they had sought each other out, it would feel different, but, as it was, she didn’t know how to feel either.

Buttercup sighed and continued mopping up the remnants of their water war when she heard the double doors click open.

“…would you just slow down and talk to me?” That was Javy’s voice, more desperate than she had ever heard him.

“Talk to you about what?” Natasha’s voice was a mere hiss.

“This! Us! How you can’t even look me in the eye? How you’re so angry I’m a little surprised there’s not legit steam coming out of your ears right now? Take your pick!”

Natasha growled in frustration. “Of course, I’m angry! You fucking proposed to me while I was lying, half blind in a hospital bed!”

“I was trying to show you that I was all in!” Javy huffed. “Your career was coming to an end, we’d talked before about how scared we both were of something bad happening, and I wanted to show you that I’d stick with you, no matter what!”

Natasha scoffed. “We’d only been hooking up for like three months! What made you think that asking me to marry you was a good idea?”

Javy was quiet for a moment. “Is that all it was to you? Hooking up?”

Buttercup heard the telltale sound of Natasha’s feet shuffling on the hardwood. “Well…yeah? Because that’s what it was, right?”

Javy loosed a scornful chuckle. “Wow…sure, Phoenix. If that’s what you want to call it, then fine. We were only hooking up.”

Natasha scoffed again. “Well, what would you call it? We never went out.”

“Because we were always going out as a group.”

“Well, we never said we were exclusive.”

Buttercup could practically hear Javy roll his eyes. “We spent every moment of every day together, Phoenix. I’d say that’s pretty exclusive. And I never saw you take anyone else home with you on our night’s out.”

“What? Were you stalking me, you creep?”

“I noticed everything you did because I was so fucking in love with you that I couldn’t stand it!” Javy shouted. “And I was clearly an idiot for thinking that we were on the same page!”

Phoenix’s breath stuttered in the silence. “Y-yeah, well…if you loved me so damn much, then why did you disappear after I turned you down?”

“Oh, forgive me for taking a few days to lick my wounds,” Javy’s sarcasm bit into the air the way the floorboards were biting into Buttercup’s knees and palms. If they didn’t quit arguing soon, she was going to need to stand, and that would just lead to more questions that she didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to answer. “You said no, screamed at me to fuck off, and went AWOL the second they discharged you. You didn’t even come to Mav’s funeral. I got the message loud and clear that you wanted nothing to do with me. Besides, Jake needed a hand with Charlie, so I followed him back here, just like you followed Buttercup to London.”

Natasha went quiet for a moment before murmuring. “Bob brought me to London. I wasn’t doing too hot on my own, depressed and shit after the accident, and Bob got worried, so he dragged me to London with them. Got me and Buttercup help and helped take care of Abby.” Natasha sniffed. “I woulda called once I was feeling better, but I figured you hated me, so I never bothered.”

Javy sighed. “I get it. We can’t change the past…but do you think you can stop biting my head off?”

“Yeah…okay.”

“Thank you…” Javy’s flipflops squeaked against the floor as he started for the door. “And Buttercup, you can get up now. Jake and the girls are looking for you.” The doors clicked shut and Natasha sighed before leaning around the island and leaning down to offer her friend a hand.

It was a testament to their friendship that Natasha didn’t comment on her predicament, instead opting to ask, “You good?”

Buttercup sighed as she stretched to her full height. “No. You?”

Natasha sighed and grabbed a beer. “Fuck no. Now c’mon. Your girls want s’mores.”

Despite the earlier argument, Buttercup’s sides hurt from laughing and her cheeks hurt from smiling by the time the sun started to set, bringing with it a rain shower that sent them all running into the living room. Hondo and Cyclone bowed out then, as did Penny and Amelia, both duos having early flights home in the morning. Payback and Maryanne ushered Richard and their daughter, Peggy, back to their cabin not long after, both kids yawning their protest as their parents bade their friends goodnight.

Rooster had drifted over to the piano at some point and was playing a soothing melody that matched the peaceful ambiance of the room. Javy and Buttercup were chatting quietly in the corner, while Jake, Fanboy and Natasha had convened on the couch.

Charlie and Abby were flaked out on the floor, watching the rain lash at the windows. Things had been weird ever since their dad had come back outside to watch them in the pool. He’d seemed quieter than normal, maybe even a bit sad, and when their mom had come out, she’d acted the same way. Now, they were in separate corners of the room, and that just wouldn’t do.

Charlie elbowed her sister lightly and nodded over at Rooster. The message was clear: Follow my lead.

“Hey, Uncle Roo…”

Rooster gazed at them over the rims over his glasses. “What do you want?” It wasn’t said unkindly, but it was said in a tone that screamed, “I know you want something so spit it out”.

“What was that song you used to play to help me sleep?” Charlie smiled sweetly.

“Why?” Rooster furrowed his brows at her.

“Well…you used to play it at the Hard Deck, right?”

Rooster nodded and Abby jumped in. “Don’t you think it would be fun if you played it right now? Y’know, for old times sake?”

Rooster’s gaze flitted between them. “Whatever scheme you two are trying to pull, I ain’t buying it.”

“No scheme!” they chorused, fingers crossed behind their backs. “We just thought it would be a nice way to end the evening.”

Rooster rolled his eyes and shifted his fingers, not believing them for one second, but they were his nieces and he was their uncle. If he wasn’t willing to do stupid shit for them, who was he supposed to do it for?

He banged out a few notes with practiced ease and started to sing. “You shake my nerves, and you rattle my brain!”

The adults immediately perked up, Javy cheering as Natasha and Fanboy started to sing along. Charlie and Abby raced to the carpet, dancing to the playful melody. As they twisted in each other’s arms, they could see their father peering hopefully in their mother’s direction, but she kept her eyes resolutely on her daughters. That is until a few beats later, when Buttercup glanced over at Jake, who was cheering along with Natasha and Javy. The girls sighed again as the song began to fade to an end too soon, but Rooster clearly had the same idea they did. He finished Great Balls of Fire with a bang before transitioning into something quieter, more romantic.

Javy and Fanboy “oooohed” loudly while Natasha shot Rooster a knowing look before elbowing Jake in the ribs.

Chuckling to himself, Jake stood and strode over to Buttercup, holding his hand out to her. “C’mon darlin’,” they heard him murmur before pulling their mother to her feet. “For old times sake.”

Buttercup found herself folding into Jake’s embrace like she had never left it. They’d always fit together like two puzzle pieces, his hand feeling at home at the base of her spine and her head fitting perfectly into the space between his neck and shoulder. His breath in her ear was the white noise she had been missing from her life, and tears welled unbidden in her eyes. This is what she had always wanted for herself. A sweet man (stubborn and arrogant as all hell, but kind in his soul and always towards her), children she adored, friends who were more like family, a career she loved. She’d had it all and thrown it away, and now she was getting a taste of what life might have been like if she’d been able to keep herself together.

She felt so safe in his arms. She always had; from the moment they had met. Even when everyone around her was telling her she was moving too fast with him, it had never occurred to her to slow down or stop. She’d felt safer with him than she ever had in her life and knew he would never hurt her. And to his credit, he never had. She’d gotten pregnant so quickly and he had never balked, never once taken a step back to consider things. He had only embraced her, proposed to her, planned their life together…and she had thrown it all away. She had been the one to hurt him. And now he was holding her so tight, like she was the most precious thing in his life, so willing to open himself up to be hurt again. It made her chest ache with longing to just take that step and let herself be safe with him again. But how could she? They wouldn’t be the only ones to get hurt this time. The girls…how could she be selfish and risk potentially hurting them?

She sighed and burrowed her face into his shoulder as they swayed, feeling him tighten his grip around her waist. She could allow herself a moment of selfishness. One dance wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Damn Rooster, Buttercup thought to herself as she tossed and turned in her bed later that night. He had just had to go and play the song they had danced to on their wedding night. It hadn’t even been a song they had picked; it was just the first slow song that had played at the bar they had gone to after Elvis had declared them married. Now she was too keyed up to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Jake holding his hand out to her, asking her to dance. His face, his eyes, his smile all haunted her as she tried to rest.

They had been so happy when they got married, despite it being a shotgun wedding in Vegas. She’d been so elated to be Mrs. Seresin that she had practically floated around for weeks after. But then reality just had to set back in, and with it came deployments and work and arguments and baby appointments and then her post-partum depression, and it had fallen apart as quickly as they had built it.

Buttercup rolled over again with a groan and thumped her pillow. She was just making herself upset. She needed to calm down. Perhaps she had been in England for too long, but she felt the need for a cup of tea. Tea was good. Tea was soothing. Tea would send her to dreamland where she wouldn’t bemoan all the mistakes she had made with her ex-husband.

Buttercup slid out of bed and slipped on her slippers before treading quietly out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen, where a dim light was shining. Peeking her head in, she saw Jake rummaging around in the fridge.

“Oh,” she murmured before she could stop herself. Without Nat and Maryanne there to bust her chops about it, she could admit that she was enjoying the view of his bare sculpted torso, his ass and thighs clad in a pair of gym shorts. He hadn’t changed much in the last decade. He still had the chiseled muscles and toned arms and legs. Perhaps he was a touch softer in places from age, but Buttercup certainly wasn’t complaining. It looked good on him.

“Hey Buttercup,” Jake greeted softly, well aware that it was 3 a.m. and the rest of the house was sleeping. His eyes roamed over her softly, taking in the oversized T-shirt and boxer shorts she wore, and he gulped. How was it possible that she looked better in this sleep ensemble than she had in her bikini? That wasn’t how that was supposed to work, and yet, for her, it did. “Couldn’t sleep?”

She shook her head, crossing her arms over her torso, all too aware that she was bare under her shirt and that parts of her sagged more than they did 12 years ago. “I was gonna make myself a cup of tea.”

A chuckle escaped Jake’s lips unbidden. “You sound like a real Brit, you know that?”

She felt blood rush to her cheeks in embarrassment, but shrugged and said, “I’ve been there for over a decade, Jake. Besides, if there’s one thing that the Brit’s have gotten right, it’s that tea really does cure everything. Insomnia, bad news, a bad day, heartbreak, awkward run-ins with an ex.”

Jake nodded slowly, a small understanding smile creeping onto his lips. “I’m having a bit of insomnia myself, but I was going to use the good ol’Hangman cure instead of tea.” He showed her the stack of cheese, butter, and sliced turkey that he had gathered in his arms. “Care to join me?” He laid the products on the counter and pulled a fresh loaf of bread towards him while Buttercup stared, mouth watering. “Buttercup?” He grinned at the look on her face.

“I haven’t had a grilled cheese in…well, probably since you made one for me,” she admitted in a quiet voice, remembering how his sandwiches were one of the things she had craved most while pregnant.

“Well, now that just won’t do.” His smile was teasing as he nodded his head towards the countertop. “Why don’t you take a seat and keep me company while the master gets to work?” Buttercup moved towards one of the island stools, but Jake shook his head. “C’mon now, darlin’, you know the rules.” He patted a bare patch of countertop space next to the stove. “Gotta have you close to keep me company.”

She felt her skin go hot to the touch with hesitancy and embarrassment. “Jake…don’t you think we’re both a little old to be sitting on countertops?”

Jake looked at her with fond exasperation and patted the countertop again. “There’s nothing old about us, darlin’. Besides, you don’t want me burning our sandwiches because I keep turning around to talk to you, do you?”

“Easy fix. Don’t turn around to talk to me.” She leaned against the island and watched him roll his eyes at her, trying to figure out how to get his way. Beautiful, stubborn pain in the ass.

“How am I supposed to do that when you’re so damn beautiful in my old Top Gun shirt?” he smirked, recognizing the logo now that she wasn’t cloaked in shadow. Buttercup could have sworn her heart stopped. She hadn’t even realized that it was his old shirt. At some point in their marriage, it had become her shirt and she had never stopped using it. Not that she would admit that to him. Nor would she admit that, in the early days of being divorced, she would wear it to sleep just to feel like he was wrapped around her.

He stepped closer and held his hand out to her. “C’mon, darlin’. I don’t bite.” He gently led her to the countertop and wrapped his hands around her waist, lifting her to perch on the edge of the marble. “There. Perfect,” he murmured, those green eyes of his tracing over the plains of her face with a small, sweet grin pulling on his lips.

“Jake…” she felt like her insides were on fire, and she didn’t know if she was calling for him to put out the fire or fan it to make it hotter, brighter.

“It’s okay, darlin’.” His voice was soft and honeyed, so unlike the voice he used with his friends and family. That was a voice that had always been reserved just for her. “Relax with me, just for an hour.”

Damn her inability to say no to him. “Get to work, Masterchef.”

His grin lit up his whole face and he took a step to the left to be standing in front of the stove again. In easy, quick movements, he had six slices of fresh sourdough bread spread out on the stovetop, buttered on one side and waiting to be assembled. Buttercup couldn’t help her giggle when she realized he was using cheap plastic wrapped cheese slices, and he flashed her a grin.

“C’mon now, Buttercup,” he admonished, his long fingers deftly unwrapping the cheese. “You know this shit melts better than anything else.”

“I know,” she giggled. “It’s just funny for me to think that you’re running this million-dollar enterprise of a ranch, I’m an award-winning novelist, and we’re eating the cheapest cheese imaginable.”

He grinned, turning a dial on the stove and pulling down a frying pan from the rack overhead. “How do you know it’s a million-dollar enterprise, Buttercup? I never told you that.”

She shrugged, watching him put the first slice of bread in the pan, then a slice of cheese, two thin slices of turkey, another slice of cheese, and then another slice of bread. Quickly, the smell of burning butter and toasting bread had her stomach growling. “I may have looked it up. The girls told me you lived on a ranch, but I wasn’t expecting something so grand, so I figured you had to be making a lot. I’m an author. I’m curious about the facts. Sue me.”

He chuckled, flipping the first sandwich over and listening to it sizzle. “I would’ve told you if you asked.”

“I know. I didn’t want to sound like some sort of gold digger.”

“Is it possible to be a gold digger if you’re already divorced?”

She shrugged, eyes tracing his flexing muscles as he flipped the sandwich again. “You might’ve thought I was after child support or alimony or something stupid like that.”

“Nah, I know we’re pretty even keel on finances anyway.” He flipped the sandwich once more and murmured softly, “Grab me a plate from the cabinet behind you?”

Buttercup hopped out of her seat and opened the cabinet, grabbing a plate and holding it out for him to place the sandwich on. “You want a beer?”

Jake nodded absentmindedly as she moved behind him, a gentle hand on his back so he wouldn’t back up into her. She grabbed ketchup and a beer out of the fridge before strolling back to his side and hopping back up onto the counter. The second sandwich was sizzling away when Jake sighed contentedly. “When was the last time we did this?” he murmured, eyes casting sideways to look at her, so damn beautiful in the dim light.

“3 a.m. grilled cheeses and beer?” She held the beer out and he twisted the cap off, tossing it to the side before taking a sip and handing it back. “Jesus…” She cast her mind back, sorting through all their memories, the gleeful and the painful. “Probably when I was pregnant. Before you got deployed.”

He remembered then, the night before he got the news that he was deploying while she was pregnant. She’d woken up in the middle of the night, absolutely ravenous for both him and food. After satiating her first need in bed, they had wandered into the kitchen of their brand-new house together, where she had perched on the countertop in just his t-shirt and watched him make grilled cheese sandwiches in just his boxer-briefs. He’d sipped on a beer while she drank Ginger Ale and they laughed and talked and ate and, when they were done the sandwiches, he had taken her again over the kitchen table before they had stumbled back to the bedroom, satisfied and deliriously happy.

A wistful ache bloomed in Jake’s chest at the memory. He absentmindedly rubbed at it as he plated up the second sandwich and started on the third. “That was a good night,” he sighed. “I’m glad we had that before it all went to shit.”

Buttercup sipped their beer and nodded. “Me too.” At the time, she’d been convinced that they could live in that happy bubble for the rest of their lives. She knew better now. “It wasn’t all bad after though, was it?” She handed him the beer again.

Jake sipped thoughtfully. “No…I guess it wasn’t. We had me coming home, the twins being born, and a few good months before…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it, so passed the beer bottle back to her. “But that was the beginning of the end.”

Buttercup sighed. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?”

She shrugged. “Saying it like that makes it sound like an inevitability. I don’t think it was. If I had just kept my shit together, we probably would’ve made it.”

“It wasn’t all your fault though, Buttercup.” Jake took the beer bottle and drained it in one gulp, but it tasted like ash in his mouth. “I was an asshole. I expected you to just follow me wherever I ended up, and that wasn’t fair. You were right. You deserved to be able to follow your dreams too, and the kids needed more stability than that. I just didn’t want to admit it because that would mean admitting that the way I grew up wasn’t ideal. It was all I knew, and I was a stubborn jackass for not admitting that I was wrong.” Jake saw her gaping at him out of his peripheral and laughed. “Javy forced me to go to therapy after about six months of me trying to strong arm my way through the whole single dad thing.” He shrugged and plated up the final sandwich, clicking off the stove and turning to face her. “Who knew?”

She chuckled under her breath. “Who knew…” She picked up the fresh sandwich and took a bite.

“Careful, it’s gonna be—” Buttercup muttered a muffled curse around the bite of bread and cheese, steam billowing from her mouth. “Hot.” He couldn’t help the laughter that poured out of him. “Some things never change.” He started fanning his hand over her mouth as she chewed on the sandwich. She had never been able to resist taking a bite too soon after the sandwiches came off the stove.

“I’m okay…” Buttercup gasped as she swallowed the steaming sandwich. Jake was still laughing, the sound reverberating in her chest like the sweetest bell.

“Was it at least worth it?” he grinned, picking up one of the cooler sandwiches and leaning against the counter beside her, so close her legs were brushing his.

“You’re still the master,” she mumbled through a full mouth, bringing a bright smile to his face. “Don’t tell Rooster I said that, though.”

Jake rolled his eyes and bit into his sandwich. “Bastard would probably put grilled cheese on the menu of his restaurant just to spite me.”

“Doesn’t mean it would be as good as yours though. Nothing beats a Hangman grilled cheese and beer at 3:30 in the morning.” His answering grin was strained slightly, and she swallowed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Jake, I’m sorry I went off on you about wanting to rejoin the Navy. It was none of my business.” As loathe as she was to admit it, it was true. It wasn’t any of her business because they weren’t together.

But Jake was already shaking his head, hand covering his mouth as he spoke through a mouthful of sandwich. “No, you were right.” He swallowed and gave her a wan grin. “You deserved to know, even if nothing was going to come out of it. You deserve to know where your daughters’ father is, even if…if we’re not together.” He had to fight back the words he truly wanted to say: Even if we’re not going to get back together.

The thought had been on his mind ever since he saw her drinking at the pool cabana, Savannah be damned. Seeing her had been a shock to his system, in the way that a defibrillator shocks your heart into working properly. And now, after a week of being in close quarters, he didn’t want it to end. He felt good around her. Better than he had in over a decade. He was happier, the girls were happier. Family dinners and pool parties and Friday night football games had all become brighter, more meaningful moments in his week. He genuinely liked being at home, working on the ranch, co-coaching with Javy when she was around. All the dull, mundane aspects of his life had taken on new meaning with his Buttercup around, but she hadn’t given him any sign that she wanted it too.

“I get why you would want to…” Buttercup tore the last sandwich in two and handed him the bigger half. “It’s not easy to think about life six years from now, when the girls will be off to college or university or whatever they want to do with their lives. But you’re more than just an aviator, or a rancher, or a football coach. You’re more than just a father too. I wish…” Buttercup swallowed nervously, but pressed on, needing him to hear her since she hadn’t been brave enough to say the words 12 years ago. “I wish you could see what I see, Jake. Beyond the stubbornness and prickish vibe you like to give off, I wish you could see the kindness. The way you care about people makes them care about you, respect you. You inspire loyalty and you make people want to follow their own dreams by showing them what bravery looks like. I…I never would have published my first book without everything I learned from you about going after what I want. I just…” She pushed past the tears clogging her throat. “I just wish that going after what I wanted hadn’t cost me you.”

Jake was there in an instant, cupping her cheeks and wiping away the few tears that had started to fall. “Hey, hey…shh, darlin’, you’re alright. You…” He sighed and let his hand slip down to rest on her neck, feeling her pulse quicken beneath his thumb. “You’re so much more than a mother, than my wife. I wish I had been able to see it, admit it, before it cost me you. If I had just pulled my head outta my ass, then maybe…maybe we’d still be together.”

Shaky hands landed on his shoulders as she rested her forehead against his. “Falling apart wasn’t inevitable…we both fucked it up. I really wish we hadn’t.”

He shifted, heartbeat quickening as his nose brushed hers. “Buttercup…” He could feel the heat of her skin under his palms, the way her heart was racing, the soft floral scent of her perfume toying with his nose, and it was overwhelming in the best way possible.

“Jake…” Her fingers toyed with the short blonde strands at the back of his neck as he pressed her closer to the cabinet, his hand dropping from her neck to her waist to tug her closer.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, nuzzling along her nose and breathing in that floral scent that had always driven him mad.

Buttercup opened her eyes slightly, taking in his golden skin and green eyes and everything that she had missed so deeply. She knew he was giving her an out, letting her walk away and protect herself, but she wanted to continue being selfish. Just for a few more minutes.

“Kiss me before we’re interrupted again, Seresin.”

A low groan rumbled through his chest as he lurched forward, lips clashing against hers in a desperate, needy thing. Years of missing her and a solid week of pent-up passion consumed him as his arm around her waist tightened, dragging her so close there wasn’t space for even air between them.

Buttercup gasped at the feel of him against her, every inch of his hard body against the softness of hers. Jake took advantage, slipping his tongue into her mouth and nearly groaning at the warmth and taste of her. Buttercup tugged his hair lightly, maneuvering his head so she could kiss him harder, deeper. His hand left her cheek and pressed against the cabinet to balance them both.

Desperation and longing and frustration poured off of them in waves as they clutched each other closer, kissed deeper, hands roaming. Buttercup couldn’t help herself as she traced a hand down his chest and abs, a thrill running through her as she touched what she had been admiring all day. Jake’s hand was just creeping beneath her shirt when she pulled away with a gasp.

“Fuck,” Jake groaned, hand on her waist pressing her closer again. “Sorry…”

“Don’t be,” she mumbled against his lips, sneaking in a small kiss before pulling away again. “Just…don’t want anyone to catch us.”

Jake moaned at the very thought and, in one move, had her bundled in his arms, her arms and legs wrapped around him as he kissed her again and carried her down the hallway to his bedroom.

Buttercup didn’t let herself think beyond one fleeting thought as Jake’s bedroom door swung closed behind them. One night of selfishness wouldn’t hurt anyone.

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@abaker74

@devil-angel-winchester

@mrs-perfectly-fine

@inthestars-underthesun

@smoothdogsgirl

[colouredbyd]

as a palestinian with family in gaza, i cannot overstate the emotional and physical toll this genocide continues to take—on those of us watching from afar, and most harrowingly, on those enduring its every waking moment. it is not a “conflict,” and it is certainly not a “war” between equals. it is a calculated, systematic campaign of ethnic cleansing, of dehumanization, and of relentless brutality against an entire population stripped of safety, dignity, and the most basic human rights.

what is happening is not a war. it is not a conflict. it is not a “complicated situation.” it is a genocide.

over 56,000 palestinians have been murdered—murdered—with tens of thousands more missing, wounded, or permanently displaced. entire generations have been wiped out. over 75% of gaza has been reduced to rubble. families are living in tents next to the graves of their children, if they are lucky enough to have found their bodies at all. hospitals have been bombed, schools flattened, refugee camps incinerated. people are being starved, buried alive, and suffocated by the world’s indifference.

and if you do not see that—if you still believe both sides are “equally at fault,” or that this is some kind of tragic back-and-forth—you need to unfollow me. genuinely, unfollow me.

because if you think the slaughter of a colonized, imprisoned population by one of the most powerful militaries on earth is just “politics,” we are not standing on the same moral ground. and i have no interest in softening my words for your comfort.

i speak not from headlines, but from lived experience. three of our close family members were trapped in gaza. to evacuate even one person costs $8,000 minimum. my uncles and aunts scraped together $36,000 to get my aunt and her three children out. and even then, we were among the very, very few. we were blessed—and it feels grotesque to even use that word—to come from a family that could afford it. and even then, it was not easy. even then, it came with fear, uncertainty, and heartbreak.

but not everyone has that option.

most palestinians do not have $36,000 to save their loved ones. most do not have relatives outside of gaza to help them. not everyone has relatives abroad. not everyone has the financial capacity to gather tens of thousands of dollars in time. and what happens then? people—families—are left behind. they are forced to stay, not because they want to, but because they are economically trapped in a death zone. mothers are having to watch their children burn alive. sons are digging their parents out of rubble with their bare hands. people are dying not only because of bombs, but because the world has placed a price tag on their right to live.

donations are not optional. they are life-saving. they are sometimes the only thing standing between someone’s child and their grave. i beg you—if you can give, give. if you can speak, speak. and if you cannot find the moral clarity to call this what it is—a genocide—then please, for your sake and mine, leave my page.

to the creators and voices who have spoken out clearly, who name what is happening for what it is: thank you. thank you for your courage, your humanity, your refusal to look away. your words matter. your solidarity matters. and to my fellow palestinians—those grieving, those angry, those exhausted—you are not alone. your pain is valid. your fight is just. and i pray with all that’s left in me for the day we see liberation.

free palestine, always.

[pomefioredove]

the final act

if you're reading this, then the queue has run out, I've muted my posts, and closed requests for good. important things first: ad perpetuam memoriam (maybe cauldron of the reborn and noble bell, too) will continue, because I like it and have committed myself to finishing it. I was initially going to move it to ao3 but since ao3 is always having some kind of problem, it'll stay here.

aside from that, I am choosing to abandon this blog.

this decision wasn't easy but, well, for the best. for the past few months my posts have not been landing- I've excused this for my series, as I know AU and/or canon-divergent are not going to be everyone's cup of tea, but even my requests have received lackluster responses, which have led me to the conclusion that they aren't being read, except by a few followers (mostly my friends, whom I love). I'm not shadowbanned, and I have over 3,000 followers who are not bots, so it's not for lack of audience.

I experimented- changing formatting, adding more descriptive summaries, updating my graphics, adjusting the queue, writing more, writing less, but with few exceptions, nothing has really worked. I took the month of march off because it was causing me so much mental stress, and since then I've just felt really depressed about it. the disappointing response, negative/rude comments, and expenditure of energy I gave to trying to turn a response, were no help. this is, as I hope you'll understand, disheartening- especially while seeing other writers get thousands of notes for similar styles and lengths of fics. if there were ever a sign from the universe that it's time to move on, that would be it.

I sincerely appreciate the few of you who left kind comments, tags, and asks for me to read- you were noticed, and you are very loved. I tried to respond to everyone I could. many of you will be joining me as I move on to other blogs, some of you will remain, I'm grateful for all of you. the majority of my time here has been extremely rewarding. I've met some terrific people in this fandom.

to those on my other blogs: I'm looking forward to having more freedom to write for you in the future!

to those only here: ...well, there are a thousand blogs just like mine, and if there's anything this experience has taught me, it's that they deserve the attention more than I do.

finally, I don't want to make it seem like this was about notes; some of my proudest works have received very few, it's always been the conversation that mattered (read fandom potluck). I also don't want to make it seem like it was any one person's fault; I know I'm bad at doing romance and don't have a good sense of humor, so my writing has always been about character moments, drama, and angst, which is generally not what people want to read; my only strengths in writing turned out to be my downfall, haha. so I think it's time to move on to projects and fandoms that are better suited to my style and strengths in writing o7

lastly, I've taken down some fics because I got mean comments on them and I'm a sensitive autist. salukes!

[ysrjune]

can you write dally x uptown girl…..fluff……maybe they’re on the phone after her parents are asleep…….she’s on landline and he’s on a pay phone……and it’s cute….or maybe they’re dancing together…….or something……..

-🌪️

ᯤ ALL OF MY CHANGE, I SPENT ON YOU 〃 . . .

a/n: Yes, I did listen to payphone while writing ts 😝 Also, reader is a soc cuz I feel like it makes more sense? and it basically the same thing saur...

ring—

you didn't let the phone ring another two times in fear your parents might wake up. “Hello?” You smile into the phone, already knowing who it is. “Hey sweetheart~” Dallas's voice calls from the other side. “Hows it going? Did I wake ya from your beauty sleep?” He smirks.

“No, you know I was waiting for your call.” You huff. “Yeah I do.” Dallas responds, now leaning against the walls of the box he was in. He started a conversation about his day. How he ran from the police, met up with the Curtises, and stayed at their house for a little bit just to hang out. Nothing too interesting today. “What've you been up to, ah?” He suddenly asks after a moment of silence.

“I cleaned.. went out with a couple of gals earlier to the diner.” You say. “Nothing like running from the police.” You giggle. Dallas chuckles. “Well, then, you weren't havin' any real fun.” He responds, staring outside. “You can have fun and not be a fugitive, Dal.” Dallas laughs. “Whatever you say, doll.”

More random topics pass by. “I miss you, Dally.” You sigh. Because you're a soc and he's a greaser—you could never be seen with each other. “I miss you too. I could always just sneak over and show ya how much im missin' you.” He says smoothly. Really, you could make that happen, but it was too risky. “Dal, we can't.” You reject. “That blows.” He rolls his eyes. “Come over to the Curtis's tomorrow. Only Soda will be home, and he don't snitch. Plus, he owes me.”

You've only been to that house once. You hardly remembered who even lived there. “But that's so disrespectful! I dont even know the family, and you're gonna sneak me over?”

“Yeah? I dont see the problem.”

“You're a damn fool, Winston.”

The brunette groans and bangs his head gently against the wall. “Well, when's the soonest I can see you? I'm dying here without 'cha.”

“My folks are gonna be out of town for the weekend. it's perfect.”

His eyes light up at that. “That is perfect. I'll be there 'round 6, then.” He sets the time. “Make yourself pretty for me, okay? Prettier than you already are.”

“Stop it..” You blush.

“And wear that perfume you wore last time. Makes me go crazy.”

“Dallas!..”

“Hey, it aint my fault that you got a way of hypnotizing me, baby.” His voice was way smoother than before. You had him feeling things over the phone. The thought of your touch, scent, and pretty eyes really did hypnotize him into an idiot. He's head over heels for you, and sometimes it scares him because he's never been so down bad for anyone.

“Just.. calm down.” You giggle. “Saturday is just a couple of days away. I make sure to do all you asked for.”

“Good. I cant wait to kiss that lipstick off those pretty lips.”

More and more, mostly meaningless conversations pass by. You just wanted to hear each others voices. 15 more minutes on the phone with him wasn't enough.

“Alright doll, I gotta go. I ran out of coins.” Dallas sighs.

“Okay..” You murmur into the phone. “Stay safe..”

“Thats no fun, but I'll try.” He says and hangs up.

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaasxo @anakinca @dollfilmz @alexlovesysrjune @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw @loveamira @alealuvshayden @mvst4far @prettiestmini @amiratheangel @blckberrie @literally-izzyy @litt1e-misssunsh1ne

[fourquartertoast]

Sirius: Why are you home? Didn't you plan to go out with some of your friends today?

Regulus: I can't go out with anybody. I'm not speaking to them.

Sirius: You're not speaking to your friends? Why?

Regulus: Half of them are mad at me and I'm horrible at talking about conflict, so I'm avoiding interaction until somebody starts a conversation which I have no choice but to engage in. Or forgets about it. I know they won't forget about it, but I really want them to, so I'm pretending it's an option even though it's obviously not. I also know that this situation is entirely my fault and that the morally correct thing to do is to apologise and explain my side of the story, but I don't want to because I'm afraid of making everything worse. Therefore, the most likely scenario is that I put off the discussion until they're even more upset and end up cornering me just to yell at me for it, which will send me into a three-day emotional spiral that will end in some of the worst self-hatred I've ever experienced – not that I'll tell anyone about it, because I'll still be terrified of interacting with the people I'd normally rely on for assistance. After that, we'll half-heartedly apologise to each other and never speak about this again.

Sirius:

Sirius:

Sirius: Why are they mad at– nope, scratch that. Don't want to know. What about the other half?

Regulus: Oh, my other friend group. I realised that most of the interactions I have those friends are started by me and not anybody else in the group, and that made me feel as though I'm putting in more effort than anybody else. I usually navigate social intercourse by copying the people around me, so it makes me uncomfortable to notice that I'm behaving differently than my peers, and I'm now anxious that they think I'm weird or annoying. Therefore, instead of talking about what's making me uncomfortable and dealing with it as a group, I've dropped all communication with those friends and am waiting for them to notice that something's wrong. They will not notice, because they have important things to think about at the moment and I am not exhibiting any outward signals of distress. This will only strengthen my belief that they don't care about me, and our friendship will inevitably deteriorate into nothing.

Sirius: Okay, that makes no sense. Have you tried talking to anybody about these issues?

Regulus: I have not. Normally, when something's wrong with one of my friend groups, I go to the other for help. Unfortunately, I'm not speaking to either group, so I have nobody to talk to about these things. That's why I'm wallowing at home instead of dealing with my issues like a normal person.

Sirius:

Sirius:

Sirius: Please get a psychologist.

[ongreenergrasses]

My unpopular Gale opinion is that I dont think he ever loses sight of who the real enemy is. And he makes plenty of mistakes but I dont think he lacks empathy or doesnt see human life as valuable. I know people argue that his actions regarding the Nut are heartless but a) i seriously doubt he was the first with the strategy to collapse the nut (no matter how collins frames it) and b) the nut was a military base, its existence aided in the bombing of hospitals, children and district 12. I think everyone would have preferred if there was a peaceful way or less horrible way to stop the Nut but there likely wasnt without even more severe loss of life (rebel troops going in would have also been a massacre and many had already lost their lives trying to get control of it). The point is that war is ugly. I hate how Katniss and by extension SC tries to argue that that kind of thinking (destroying the Nut) leads to thinking that supports the hunger games. Like there is a massive difference between the two and fandom runs with it to portray Gale as reprehensible.

I hate that fandom acts like Gale has not experienced death or loss because he wasnt in the arena. He experienced that on a much larger scale than Katniss with the d12 bombing, whereas Katniss sees murder and death in the arena on a smaller scale where individuals are at fault which explains why they both react the way they do in mockingjay. In saying that I really feel that Mockingjay does not give enough attention to the district 12 bombing as it should. I don't think it makes sense the victor's village wasnt bombed (it should have been the first thing). But except for Madge, everyone Katniss cares about seems to survive and Katniss even gets to keep family mementos and sentimental things. Obviously because she is the main character but I think it would have been more awful (and realistic) if they had been lost because frankly that is what happens during genocide. There is no warning and people are left with nothing. Its what happened to everyone else in d12. And i definitely hate that SC writes that some survivors thought it was good luck to be of free of d12 at last. I just think that would have been an insane thing to say after watching 90% of your people perish. Considering everyone likely lost someone during the bombing I'm assuming those survivors got sucker punched almost immediately.

I want to print this ask out and frame it

YEAH. Yeah. Katniss and Gale have both suffered immensely but the way that they’ve experienced death and loss is markedly different. one of the things they initially connected on was the loss of their fathers in the same mining accident, and they had similar views and experiences of death. but then Katniss goes into the Games and that starts to diverge. for Katniss, killing is a deeply personal act because she had to do it in such close quarters and suffered so acutely. for Gale, he sees how callously and easily the Capitol inflicts a genocide by wiping out a district and he begins to see death and loss as something that can be done sweepingly to achieve an aim. I don’t think he sees that as a positive thing at all, but he sees how the Capitol wields mass death as a tool and he realizes (correctly, btw) that the only way for the rebels to prevail is to match their tactics.

and his approach makes sense. Gale watched a genocide. he was the only reason any of his people survived at all. the weight of that and the responsibility he was shoved into at max 19 years old is horrifying. he is the only reason D12 still exists. he is also the only reason the rest of the country finds out what happened to D12. and Katniss displays absolutely no understanding of how that would affect him, because she’s also extremely traumatized and stuck in quite a self centered mindset, but as readers we can extrapolate and think about just how much that would screw with his head. but of course this lack of sensitivity and thought also comes from SC, for the reasons you pointed out. the idea that some survivors would be glad to be free of D12…gross. I’m sure plenty of people had very complex feelings about it but who is glad to see their home burn, everything they know lost, and 90 percent of their people killed?

[traiaadd156]

Damian wayne al ghul rant

No, because the only right way/what I think is when Damian finally becomes an adult he either becomes these three things which I love or hate or both.

1# Doctor, because all and all he is more ahead than his peers not only in intellectually so but also by his experience its the most normal future for him and I am actually pushing for it to be so since(as a fan) I dont like him always suffering and be this sort of edgy thing that boys idolize because of how misunderstood his character is even in writing.

But I also would like to mention about him still saving lives without outwardly being a hero, he wants to save people but his now(healthy) mindset doesn't have to truly think he needs to sacrifice his own life for another person. Like alfred, because that trauma and how the comics portray his death as something impactful, Damian even has memories or flashback.

His death meant something, it meant something for Damian as a person.

And him forgiving Bane was just the tip of the meaning of what alfred was trying to tell him and jason(I think)

How he could not only rebirth but forgive, how he isnt always arrogant and to even put his own pride down to work with others.

And thats why I like damian being a doctor so much😔 because of not only alfred but how I think its the healthiest options for the next two Im going to talk about.

2# Him being the Demon head, yes I know it's very far from the first one but HEAR ME OUT! It's just that I enjoy the thought of him being something of a leader like Ra's but he doesn't commit to the madness it has with it because what I noticed about damian is that he wants control. Himself and others, how he could develop and actually use the organization he leads to do good.

Because what balances heroes in villains(In my point of view) is dirty work.

Corrupt officials, organized crime etc. As hard as it is to believe, I think Damian wouldn't want heroes to kill because of their own moral dilemma about a situation that is related to them(either a family member getting killed, or them being tempted to actually kill since THEY know that the person either wouldn't get punished or they truly think there is no other good enough punishment for them whether in law or jail)

Him killing those actual sick and twisted people TO help in not turning a hero into something of a criminal is rather righteous(or what I hope the writers are going to do🙏😭)

But the only down side to this want of mine is the ships trying to but in to who is better as a partner for him in this timeline. Bc I dont see flatline even staying that long, neither raven or even mari(graysons kid😬)

3# being Batman, yes he was literally waiting and trained to be just like him. Because he is the skilled in actually putting people in their place but I think he will never truly outdo cass or grayson in that pole because he resorts to violence and probably would kill. But he also understands the criminals, to why when and how they become the way they are and he knows that there is always hope for them. Because he was the example, he reflected, if he had a robin by his side who was just like him. That would be a good time to self reflect, his own faults he has to admit(just like bruce when he was a kid)

Its best to say that he will definitely be as reckless as before, but his main goal in gotham is probably control. How he needs to know everything, his obsession with protecting his own home just like his fathers because in the city where he is he sees people trying to get by and survive and he is the only person who is going to do that since he is far farr from corruption since he himself if rich(CANONICALLY)

But what I dont like about this is that the writers😞 because I read on a different issue when he turned to batman he was killing these people instead of rehabilitating them like his father did, and usually in this type of rant I would avoid the topics that might cause problems with how my audience sees and thinks about it but this is just a rant after all(so no outwardly seeking hating on the ppl that write bc im not a dc writer I repeat!)

I think I was a little bit too dramatic on this rant so apologies for that😬 but its just my personal opinion because even as a reader I do get a bit irritated with how the story does go but I still read it(bc the art is ALWAYS good)

[shadowbrightshine]

I used to have that problem as a child. I have autism and because I had so much more trouble looking at faces, I learned most of my facial expressions from TV shows.

First off this led to problems, because there's alot of animation shorthand poses that just do not work irl and I probably confused people even more...

But the other is that's how I conceptualized my face in my head. Like an animated character or more often my favorite anime. Digimon.

And then I'd catch a look in the mirror and my face would look wrong. I'd practice my faces and none of them looked right. I'd cry because I was doing the same thing, but now when I looked at myself it looked bad. I hated videos of myself because my face never matched my memories.

I didn't have any friends either. Just people who would spend 5 or 10 minutes with me on the playground. I was better friends with the flock of birds that lived in a fence across the street from the school. The house attatched was all overgrown with plants and squirrels also lived there. There was this group of 5 or so birds that would start hopping out first and all the dozen others would follow them. And then it was a little storm of loud bird chirping as they picked new spots to sit or left to find food. I talked to the tree in the yard more than people because it was solid and couldn't move away the next year. And it hurt. Because I'm very extroverted, I need people, even if I can't talk to them I need them nearby at least. And I was alone surrounded by a hundred other kids who didn't like me or didn't think of me at all.

I can't even remember much of it. Not past some of those key things. I likely repressed those memories even now in my 20s. My mom says I came home crying ever other day or so. I got pets and it helped a lot, but at school I was still lonely. I didn't really understand emotions very well yet. There was a girl who yelled at me because I kept trying to cheer her up. I was so used to feeling bad all the time that I probably didn't realize it was ok to be sad. And on those days I'd cry because I thought it was my fault she was still upset most days. She didn't like me in the first place. I was so determined to make her happy that I made both of our emotions worse.

I have other memories of those years. Smaller ones.

I didn't really start gaining real friends until late into school and, honestly? Most of them weren't my friends either.

It's only now in college I have people who I truly look forwards to seeing, and people who want me to come spend time with them. They invite to coffee, I bring them over for a movie, I catsit for them and we get each other birthday gifts.

And I found a boyfriend. A guy who I've known for a lot longer than us dating and worked up the courage to ask to date. And he brings me so much joy whether we stay bf and gf or not. I want him in my life. And he wants me in his. And I think this year is one of the first I haven't really felt lonely.

Sorry to rant on this. Kinda poured out my heart at 7am on accident.

that moment when martin looked in the mirror and didn’t recognise his reflection? yeah i felt that

[like-wuatafauq]

Its always really heartbreaking when you get to a point and think "no because I would've never done that to you"

[licorishh]

no way she's alive ?? yea those mental health breaks because social media makes people suck are wild huh

[ashmcgivern]

We did a chunk of the scenes in house for the Animaniacs episode "A Brief History of History" and these were some of the ones I was assigned! These scenes were a bit rough to get through because we had a lot of rounds of revisions, and back then I wasn't really happy with my work. In hindsight, they're alright, so I figure I'd share them for all their flaws.