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Monday, November 22nd, 2010 12:33 am
These were all written for [livejournal.com profile] stainofmylove 's Texts From Last Night comment meme.

Do you ever wonder how many people have prayed for you to be a better person? (How I Met Your Mother)

"Barney, do you ever wonder how many people have prayed for you to be a better person?" Lily asked, phone jammed between her shoulder and ear as she folded eggwhites into her pancake mix.

He scoffed. "Oh, like you have any room to talk."

"Fair point," she admitted, waving her hand over the frying pan to test its temperature.

"So are you going to help me completely destroy Robin's new relationship or not?"

The words pulled themselves out of Lily. "But Robin is so much nicer when she's having sex on a regular basis."

Barney made a sound that was kind of like a shriek and kind of like a whistle and kind of like something only dogs could hear.

"Do you want to have some douchebag Canadian hockey player in your Thanksgiving photos this year?" he snapped. "Because if so–"

"I'm in," Lily said immediately. "I'm in. This year my Thanksgiving photos are going to be perfect. Perfect."

"That's the holiday spirit," Barney said cheerfully. "Now let me tell you Operation: Utter Destruction Of Robin's Boy Toy is going to go down..."



(203): I asked a girl to buy her a drink, she had I have a boyfriend, so I said, well i have a goldfish, she said what? I replied, oh I'm sorry I thought we were talking about shit that doesnt matter. (Glee)

"Have you made love to him yet?" Jesse asked casually.

"That is none of your business," she said. She probably intended to hiss the words but this was Rachel, so they rang through the VA-sponsored Winter Holiday-theme mixer like melodic church bells.

Rachel Berry was possibly the worst spy ever. She was wearing a plaid skirt and knee socks at an evening party.

He'd really missed her knee socks. And her ability to project to the last row of a theatre without even trying. And her–

"And I'm not here to spy," she said, and Jesse started. She'd gotten better at reading him since he crushed her heart like the off-brand egg he'd broken into her hair. Of course, that was the kind of experience that took the rose-colored glasses off, in regards one's boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. "I'm hear to pick up Kurt's boyfriend."

Picking up the boyfriend of the boy who spent entire practice sessions making snide comments about her. Yep, that was dysfunctional enough to be true.

"Rachel, you're much too driven for a role as any man's fag-hag, even one wit Kurt's excellent taste in air products," he took a sip of his drink, returned to the topic at hand. "So, have you realized that Finn's boring and all wrong for you yet?"

Rachel lifted her chin. "Things are fantastic with Finn. He's the perfect boyfriend."

Jesse just looked at her, heat in his eyes. She didn't look away, even when a blush spread across her cheeks.

He quirked his lips, leaned close. "You have my number. Call me when you realize how foolish you're being."

"I deleted your number months ago," Rachel said cuttingly.

Jesse couldn't tell if Rachel was lying about that. Fine. He'd just call her. If the repentant lover was the role that would get her back, he'd play it until his knees bled.


(703): we couldnt find her phone in the morning so i called it and found it under the bed. my name came up as 'regret' (The Vampire Diaries)


Elena isn't a liar, even to herself, so she doesn't pretend that she isn't cheating on Stefan. It doesn't matter that their relationship in one of those ambiguous pauses that seem to happen on an annual basis. It's still cheating.

She loves Stefan and she knows that she's going to spent years and years trying to make this one night up to him. It's a mistake
and she'll regret it, but it's just... just once. Just this once.

Elena has imagined sex with Damon more than she's willing to admit, and it was always a torrid whirlpool of hands and teeth and passion that she didn't have any control over or tender, tender love-making straight out of the most saccharin of the romance novels behind Aunt Jenna's textbooks.

It wasn't her sweater getting caught on her necklace and Damon waspishly telling her to hold still while he unhooked it from the knit. It wasn't him nipping at her collarbone and teasing her nipples with his fingers until she shoved him back on her bed and straddled him, twisting against his erection. It certainly wasn't watching his face while she stroked him, feeling so deliciously powerful as her fingers moved and he ripped at his bottom lip with his fangs, making this needy sound in the back of his throat until her thighs were slick and so taut they trembled and if she didn't have him inside her now she was going to die.

And after, satiated and half-asleep in his bed, Elena doesn't regret it at all.

That's when she realized what a grave mistake sex with Damon truly was.



im not picky. i just want someone whod go down on me while im writing my psych midterm paper. thats not a lot to ask.  (Community)


Britta may be bad a reading women but when she came out of the bathroom stall and found Annie leaning against the sink with her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she rolled her left foot from side to side, it was pretty clear that Annie wanted something.

"Britta, can I ask you something?"

Britta felt her hands go cold. There were so very, very many bad places this could go.

"S-sure," she said, the pause before she answered looming between them.

"Shirley's really nice," Annie started and Britta went light-headed with relief that this wasn't about Jeff Winger or drugs. Although Annie on cannabis had the potential to be hilarious.

"And I know she just want me to be happy and I'm super-grateful that she cares so, so, so much but how do I get her to stop trying to fix me up with guys from her church?" Annie said all in one breath. "First of all, I'm Jewish. Second of all, I don't have time for a boyfriend. Do you know how much psychology homework I have? Midterms are next week, my ISP on female reporters in the early twentieth century is taking up far more time than I budgeted, and it's not even midterms yet. I have to schedule time to shave my legs, I don't have time to have coffee with someone I've got nothing in common with! I mean, sure, it's been forever since Vaughn, and it would be nice to have someone, you know, to, you know," Annie blushed and Britta said, "I know," in her best cougar voice.

"But I have a pysch paper due next week and I need to figure out if we're have any tests in Anthropology and my basket-weaving instructor hates me, so I really just don't have time to date right now," Annie finished in one breath.

Britta pondered. "So you basically need someone who'll go down on you while you write your midterms."

"Britta!" Annie said, in a high-pitched way. Britta took that as a 'yes.'

"You know, there are a couple guys I know who might be into that," she said, "especially if you flip your hair and act virginal and slutty at once. Which you totally could pull off. And if we let Shirley overhear..."

"She'll think I'm totally promiscuous and godless!" Annie was totally considering it, Britta could just tell.

"I could never do that," Annie said, looking longingly at Britta's phone.

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