#Because we’re literally paycheck to paycheck right now

[hellshire-harlot]

man understimulation fucking sucks I need to be shot in the head

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Mango Bat; Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Okay, so not an alien, just like, I dunno, a second-gen immigrant,” Bernard says, and Kon blinks at him a couple of times and is sort of, like, low-key fascinated by the dude’s brain for a moment. That is like, practically Bart-levels of “random shit that only makes sense in your own head”, but much better-translated for the outside people. “. . . this is not my fault, okay, you’re way too hot for me to make sense and act like a normal person in front of. Also we’re in Gotham and you have to understand that skews the ‘normal’ scale so much, okay?” 

“It’s fine, dude, I’ve heard way weirder,” Kon replies, kinda amused because Bernard’s wincing kinda awkwardly and doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands anymore, and then just smirks a bit and leans in to nip at the other’s lower lip. Why not, right? “It’s just kinda funny ‘cuz the awkward rambling thing makes you look stupid cute.” 

“Jesus,” Bernard mutters very feelingly, then grabs his face again and kisses him back hard. Kon purrs into it and pins him down heavier against the mattress again and gets a breathy little groan out of Bernard for it, plus a handful of very decided clicks from Tim’s camera. Kon is, like, very used to making himself look good for a camera, even now, and it’s not hard at all to make the stretch and display of his body pressing down against Bernard’s into something natural and easy-looking for the camera lens. It is natural, because it’s something he’s been doing since the day he was fucking decanted, and also it’s not like he didn’t get all that media training from Rex and even a bit from Cadmus’s original uploads and also in bits and pieces a dozen other places and counting. And if nothing else, the photogenic thing very literally paid the bills for a while in there. 

Doing it for Tim feels different, though. Showing off for Tim, displaying himself, framing Bernard just right with his body the same way he got taught to frame whatever pretty girl they threw him on-set with–

Except it’s not like being on a shoot or a set or anything like that. Not like doing some boring ad or magazine shoot with a photographer who isn’t interested in him as a person, just a paycheck, not like doing a thousand takes of some brain-dead commercial for some lame, useless product he doesn’t give a shit about, and not like Rex trying to get him to take “candid” pics for social media shit or anything like that, or even just some random civilian who just wants a selfie or anything like that. 

Which, like–most of those photos don’t even exist anymore. Just about all of them don’t, in fact. 

Kon’s good at being photographed–one of the few things he was always good at, that always came natural and that he learned inside and out and just had an actual talent for–but that doesn’t actually matter anymore because everything he got good at it for doesn’t even exist now. Isn’t even remembered, mostly. 

But–Tim likes to take pictures. He’s always liked to take pictures. And right now, Tim wants to take pictures of him. Ones he maybe really does wanna keep, even. 

That’s–that’s a thing that Kon’s thinking about, right now.

[luvrrgirl444]

chapter 21: would u rather ft eren

IRL, INSTAGRAM!

“yo, wassup guys!” connie screamed into the camera. he was sitting in the passenger seat of jean’s car, as usual.

“today we’re back in the car-”

“-my car” jean interrupted.

you, connie and sasha all rolled your eyes.

“anyway, we’re back in jean’s car for would you rather part two, and we’ve got a not so special guest”

“you fucking cunt!” eren shouted from the backseat. he was sat behind connie, with his arm around you. you were sat in between him and sasha. connie mocked eren and flipped him off.

you rolled your eyes. “as this dumbass was saying, today we’re here with eren. aka photography guy. aka that one hot drummer. aka-.”

“bro can you thirst for him on twitter and not in the car.” connie said, gagging.

“not even thirsting, just being real.” you shrugged, making eren chuckle.

“someone spay this motherfucker.”

“shut the fuck up, we didn’t even mention what we’re eating today.” jean interrupted, once again. “sash?”

“today, we’re eating chick-fil-a! because eren’s never had it. allegedly.”

“allegedly?” he questioned.

“yes. anyway, we’ll see you when we get the goods.” sasha said, smiling.

🫧

“WE GOT THE FUCKING GOODS” sasha screamed. “now, we’re gonna get the questions and get this shit started.”

jean pulled out his phone and went into instagram to find the questions.

“alright. would you rather be hot and stupid or ugly and intelligent?”

“hot and stupid” connie responded. “i already am.” he smiled.

“delusional ass” jean replied.

“y’all, please stop gassing connie’s ugly ass up.” you said.

“y’all not funny.” he rolled his eyes.

“ugly and intelligent is obviously the right choice.”eren said.

“definitely.”

“DICKRIDER” connie shouted.

“bitch shut up. as i was saying, those scientist paychecks are heavy. if i’m getting paid millions, i wouldn’t give a fuck about how i looked.” you agreed.

“bitch think she mariah the scientist.”

you rolled your eyes and pulled connie’s ear. “you want me to beat your ass so bad.”

“hot and stupid. i could literally get a modeling job and i’d be rich too.” sasha argued, before taking a sip of her milkshake.

“okay, thats valid.” jean said. “nobody wants to be fucking stupid tho.”

“id rather be stupid than ugly.” connie piped in.

“you’re already both tho?” you said, making everyone giggle, except for connie.

“imma need you to choke on that chicken.”

“moving on.”

“would you rather be bald or have no teeth.” jean read out. “bald. no hesitation.”

“definitely bald, i could literally just wear wigs and nobody would know. those human hair wigs go crazy.” you said.

“being bald is crazy. i’m having no teeth and getting dentures.”

“connie, you’re literally one shave away from being bald” sasha told him. “i’m going bald too, i need my teeth.”

“my hair is my best feature. i’m getting dentures with connie.” eren said.

“my motherfucking man!” connie shouted and dapped eren up.

“you two are fucking insane.” jean grimaced.

🫧

you guys did about 5 more would you rathers before ending the video.

“thats all for today guys, hope you enjoyed us screaming like children! see you in the next video!”

the recording ended there. a black screen then followed, with the question “would you rather choke and die or subscribe to bigcheese4000?” on it.

liked by lifearlert, mikasackerman & 456,777 others

👤 jaegerbomb

bigcheese4000 new video ft eren out now run it up 🔥🔥🔥🔥

comments

jaegerbomb CONNIE WTF IS THIS

⤷ user220 the way he instantly knew it was connie ECVEEVHWHW

jaegerbomb ugly picture n i still look better than you @conman69

⤷ conman69 WOAH???????

⤷ planetyn CLOCK HIS TEA BAE

⤷ bigcheeseluvr4 STOP I LOVE THEM

sashluvsfood chick fil a 🤤

⤷ horseface fatass

user111 eren’s arm around y/n??? IM SCREAMING

user2020 i need jean

⤷ jeansbbygirl333 so bad

hotgirlsloveyn WE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE

planetyn the tattoos im screaming

⤷ user20 “someone spay this mf”

user500 new bigcheese video with EREN???? ABOUT DAMN TIME

view 43.2k others..

🫧

- the way i’ve been neglecting my og series omg..

taglist <3 : @greeniegreengreen @bakuhoes-bxtch @itzgabz22 @princess-jaeger @marsandsaturn @violenthots @roses-arerosies @conniesbbymama @llovergirlll @iheartamajiki @clipperlighter @liliorsstuff-blog @hoohoohope @akvrae @rinslutz @miniaturelunar @sheluvzeren @shigamiryuk @chamomilespetal @booistoleyou @asp7n @heartz444anna @thatartistshar0n @vintagexparker @tsukkisukkii @venusinx @seeingivy @cyberkitty1 @anitatvd @blamemef0rit @crvzy-fujoshi

[buckyarchives]

we’re not really strangers | Sebastian Stan [2.]

summery: a broken and washed up writer keeps showing up in Sebastian life as he struggles with his own loneliness. two people in two different world, but the tug is so intense it begins to eat Sebastian raw. he has to learn to love full heartedly and you need to learn to trust again after you got cheated out of your entire life.

word count: 7.5k

warning: therapy sessions, hints of depression and drug abuse, mentions of suicide. past abusive relationships.

authors note: this is so long i’m sorry. and yes, readers backstory is literally just from big eyes shut up

read on AO3 | masterlist

“So.” the tap of a clicking pen filled the air. “Have you been writing recently?”

“I'm not a writer.”

Grace – your therapist – sighs, absolutely done with your shit. She was right to be. “You've written some of the film industry's greatest movies. Just because the world doesn't know that doesn't mean it's not true.”

You more or less glared at her, not a peep leaving you. It was going to drive Grace crazy, you didn't care. Maybe you did. A frown danced on your face, the one you wore usually. Just more annoyed.

“You don't have to be in denial forever.”

You loathed it when she said that. She noticed that you began to fidget with your hands before you realized yourself. She wrote it down, the sound of the pen dancing over her pad taunted you. You've never been an angry person, but it made you want to scream at her. Be the madwoman people expected of you.

“Yes, I have been writing.”

Grace's face lightened. “Good, anything you want to share.”

Your therapist made you talk about your script and stories in the beginning, a way to open up, she said. It was usually the only thing you'd be comfortable enough to speak about. She’d look way into the stories though, so you stopped. Especially after a suicidal main character got you put on 24-hour watch.

“Just practice.” you sighed, avoiding eye contact. “That one script I wrote a year ago is being filmed right now.”

“Which one?”

Here we go.

“The one about the cannibal luring in women through dating.”

Grace hums, nodding her head. Remembering the story you spoke about to her a while ago, she had read the first draft. “Is being deceived and tricked something you can relate to? Is cannibalism a metaphor for being eaten away by your feelings when you lived in LA?”

Told you.

You want to groan, scream and cry at her. Throwing your head back in annoyance and carding a hand through your hair with a heavy sigh.

“It's not that deep, Grace.” you say, “it's just about the horrors of modern dating as a woman.”

Sometimes you wanted to cry when she made these arbitrary assumptions just to tear you down into being a deeper person than you actually wore. It made you feel like a character of your trauma. Which your writing was the whole point, to make that not true.

Because you are not a character in your story. You never were.

“But do you feel that way? the way Miles treated you–”

“can we not—“ you let out a shaky breath, “I thought we agreed on Voldemort.”

That stupid fucking name. You hated when she called him by his name, it felt borderline criminal and it left a metallic taste in your mouth. Flinching at every stranger you met with a similar name.

Grace sighed for probably the millionth time. You didn't care that she sounded disappointed. “You cannot keep ignoring your past and live in denial and delusions. You have to learn to step out of that comfort zone and face it head-on.”

Denial, denial, denial. That word sure came up a lot.

“You are a writer.” she looked you dead in the eye. “Yet you claim not to be, despite that fact you continue to write scripts and let movies be made and go uncredited even after escaping miles. Living paycheck to paycheck from that small cafe.”

You feel small.

“You haven't even touched any of the money miles–”

“Okay, I get it, I get it.”

You wished she would stop talking sometimes. And sometimes you wished you didn't have to go to these stupid therapy sessions every week just so you could leave the state. Not be locked in a hospital and dancing around like a crazy person.

“I need to stop living in denial, I need to get out of my comfort zone. I get it, but stop lashing out at me.” you repeat her words. And you know she's not lashing out, she's doing her job and you shouldn't hate her for it. But you do.

Grace looks down at her notepad again and you swear to any gods above if she starts writing down some stupid observation you were going to–

Thump.

Your eyes watch as the throws the pad to the side and lean in closer to you, studying you. Okay, this is even worse.

“Where is this movie being filmed?”

Your eyebrow quirked up. “Canada, Toronto.”

“You.” she points her perfectly painted finger toward you. “Are going to take a vacation, go to set, hang out, help out. Maybe – and I highly recommend it – give some advice. And I know your director friends would be more than welcome to that idea.”

“I can’t take off work.” you sigh, frustrated. “And I don't have the money to get a ticket and stay that long.”

“Yes, you do.” she quips back.

Sometimes you also forget she has access to see your funds and other things. Another thing you could technically blame Voldemort from. If you're speaking about the domino effect, at least.

Hesitantly, and maybe just so you could leave, “i'll think about it. Okay?”

And you did, maybe you forced yourself to think about it in the begining. But somewhere along swallowing yourself on your couch, mindlessly serving coffee and sandwiches. Staring blankly at your books and scripts. You kept thinking about it, until you couldn’t stop. Then it bothered you.

Sometimes you go onto Hulu, prime, or wherever your movies ended up. It doesn’t matter, you don't have control over them, never have. And you'd look at the credits page for hours, quite literally losing yourself in time. You wondered if you'd ever be strong enough to try and change it, by the time you snap out of it, you come to the conclusion that you aren't. And even if you were, would you win? Highly doubtful.

Swallowing down your medication as you feel the upcoming panic. You don't have time to deal with this. You glance down at the orange bottle again. No– stop that. Idiot.

Glancing back to the semi-empty calendar nailed to the wall. Your fingers dance along the dates and you sigh. Tuesday is therapy, you close the shop on those days. Since you usually come back home in a daze and are completely unable to function normally. You hated that your trauma and illnesses had that much power over you. Made you feel weak.

It was February 14th. Your fingertip fell on the 3rd and found itself on the next page. Around the third week of March. That's how long they'd be filming. You didn't ask Mimi. She invited you down, you hate when your therapist is right. She said they'd have a party. They always have parties while filming.

You tried to convince yourself of an excuse to stay. The regulars would be mad when they find out the shops are closed for over a week. You'd miss your apartment, which was a ffat-out lie. You've been trying to convince yourself you'd like this place since you moved in. no way that is changing now. You have to do therapy on zoom, then Grace said you wouldn't need to speak to her on vacation. That made you want to go.

“Fuck!” you yelled, not sure why. But you did and slammed a hand on the counter out of pure frustration and defeat. You'd never have control over your thoughts anyways.

You went into your room to pack, cursing yourself the entire time. You were only destroying yourself by going. Scared someone would recognize you. Another lie, Mimi doesn't work with anyone he worked with. Fact.

Cursed yourself when you bought a ticket, made a sign that said closed until further notice, and texted Mimi your arrival time. Your hands shook when you went through TSA and tried to put your suitcase in storage. A nice husband of three helped you and you gave him a nervous smile. You took a Xanax and mellowed out until you landed.

You began to hate yourself when you checked into the hotel Mimi said to go to. Hated yourself as you got dressed and called a cab. Started to loathe yourself and contemplate going home on the ride back and your legs shook when you walked onto set.

And then something really weird happened. You saw Sebastian and you suddenly didn't and that made you hate yourself even more but in an entirely different way. Mimi was excited you came and Lauryn was shocked. You predicted their reactions and got them correct.

You met Daisy and didn't tell her who you were, she made a good noa. You didn't tell her that either, even though you felt like you should have. Sebastian looked excited, confused, and shocked you were here. All of those and also a little happy. You hoped he didn't know.

You were glad they didn’t get Chris Pine.

/

You lurked the entire day, not wanting to intrude on the creative proess. You knew how frustrating that could be. Mimi was a great director and you were happily watching her.

Sebastian. Oh, Sebastian. You spent an alarming amount of time staring at him instead of reading the book you bought. You thought about how he made you feel when you fell asleep on him, how you felt at ease sleeping in your apartment for the first time (and how you had a panic attack about it in the bathroom before he woke up), how you smiled more than you wished when he convinced you to dance to Lana and Faye Webster. And then you thought about avoiding him the same way you did when he came in the shop that second time.

Because he was a normal man that liked old films, the color pink and space. But to almost everyone else – he was Sebastian Stan.

And that's why you have to stay at arm's length.

But then he startled you with two cups of coffee in his hands, giving you one, and tucked in his armpit was the script. He sat next to you and asked about delivery and attitude, asked for advice and your thought process when you wrote this.

You mentioned it, but Lauryn must have said something.

“He’s lighthearted about it, he is sinister but if you take meaning away he's just goofy.” you explain, and he looked at you so intently and listened to you well, you thought about kissing him, but you knew it was just because he was giving you attention. “These are some scenes you don't want to take him so seriously.”

A part of you wanted to yell at him. Tell him you're not a writer, you didn't write this, why are you asking me? Go ask Lauryn. But that's just what you were used to. You've already crossed a weird unspoken line that both of you acted like it was nothing, because it was. You told yourself.

But you let it be and continued to answer his questions.

You didn’t know Sebastian kept lingering just to make you smile, and that he stayed even after he accomplished his goal.

/

After fleeing to your hotel room, you took a cold shower and cried. You weren't sure why.

You watched Once Upon a Time, “Hat Tricks.” you smiled watching that episode. You weren’t sure why, you didn't like it.

You started to wonder what fuck was wrong with you when you turned on the Covent and went to bed with your hand in your pants.

/

ding!

please don’t be Mimi asking to come back to set. please don’t be Mimi asking to come back to set. please don’t be Mimi asking to come back to set.

from Mimi Cave: the cast and crew are having drinks at 8, it’d be great if you came by.

For the past couple of days, you made brief appearances on set, and spent most of the time lingering around Toronto like a ghost. you went to see Tom and Jerry in theaters which was so far the highlight of the week. maybe besides talking to Sebastian but you weren’t ready to admit that to yourself yet.

you needed to socialize with people besides cafe workers. Speaking with people in the film industry was scary. Maybe this was for the better. You can imagine Grace speaking in your ear.

chewing on your cheek, you blink at the message and then another one pops up.

from Lauryn: i know mimi just texted you, but you don’t have to go if you're not comfortable.

from Lauryn: try to come later though. less people then, or tomorrow morning we can get brunch.

you sighed heavily. two sides of the same coin. One danced around you while the other was overbearing. It was a good balance but now it was just annoying. It was probably because Mimi came post-miles and Lauryn was there even before him. they both cared though.

to mimi: i’ll try to stop by! send me the address. thanks for the invite.

to lauryn: it’s fine, i need to get out. i’ll be there

setting your phone down before glancing at the time. It was 7 pm now. you had no rush to get there at 8, you didn’t want to get there then. If anything, you’d do what Lauryn suggested.

you stared at yourself in the mirror for a good 10 minutes before deciding to get ready. pulling yourself together and putting on a dress of sorts. it was red - staying on theme with the movies. you paced the hotel for a little, opened Instagram. your therapist told you to stop doing that. your fingers danced across the search bar in a trance, not even realizing he was on your mind.

[imsebastianstan]

clicking the follow button. maybe this was a bad idea—

imsebastianstan requested to follow you.

that was… quick. he should definitely be wrapping up filming and not on his phone, or social media.

Nonetheless, you clicked accept.

you had no post, no highlights. just a name and profile photo. it was from a party a long time ago, some

people are cropped out. but you already got a new message.

imsebastianstan: are you coming tonight?

fuck. now you can't back out. you typed quickly, told him you were. he offered to pick you up, what a gentleman. you declined. told him you already called an uber and Sebastian said to be safe. it made your chest weirdly warm.

the ride to the house was a more mellow version of the journey to Toronto and set for the first time. same feelings just less physical panicking. which was — better.

it was 9 when you got there. too early for your taste but you were already standing in front of the huge house, tall glass windows with warm lights and groups of people. too many people. and Mimi must have already seen you because she ran outside with Daisy close behind, cheeks already warm from the crisp cold.

“what are you waiting for? it’s cold, get inside!” she waved you over and you forced out a thin-lipped smile and entered the door, shrugging your coat off and putting it aside.

and you went through the motions of the party for the most part. Mimi introduced you, Lauryn looked surprised that you came so early. you gave her a reassuring nod and she went back to speaking with whoever. wondering if she went around telling them about your part in the script like you did Sebastian. you looked for Sebastian, he was flirting with some girl — you looked away pretty quickly and found a love chair to nurse a drink and people-watch.

and then time blurred, voices muffled and rang. the clicking of glasses and laughter played in the background like a television. you wondered why you even came.

“y/n?”

everything came back and Sebastian was standing in front of you. a somewhat worried face, you chose not to think about that too much.

“hey,” you replied plainly.

“Hey back.” Sebastian smiled and you caught your eyes lingering on his lips. He sat down next to you, thighs touching. like they did when he spent the night, should you mention that?

“Are you okay?” he asks and it genuinely takes you offguard. You begin to stare at him blankly, almost confused. You don't remember the last someone asked you that, and then you realize you don't even know the answer. It shocks you for a moment.

And there's something so raw about Sebastian that makes it so hard to cover it all up. Be fake. Lie. be happy, pretend. It scares you and you want him far away, but the feeling and warmth of his thigh lining against your envelopes you and makes you feel whole and secure.

“I’m here.” which isn't a lie, but it’s all you can think to say. “which is good enough.”

Sebastian glanced back to the small crowd. He smiles, but it feels forced. You know the look too well. “that you are.” is all he says for a moment, you just nod and tap a nail on your glass. “But, do you want to be?”

No, yes, I'm not sure, I should be, do you?

“I think so.” you settle on.

“You don't sound so sure.”

“Because I'm not.” you sigh.

Sebastian takes one more glance around, checking each and every person and to his surprise and delight – no one is looking at him. He smiles, it's genuine now and you can't begin to understand what he's thinking. It angers you.

A hand grasps around your drink, sets it down and finds its way back to your wrist. “Let's go somewhere else,” Sebastian says with a tease in your voice and he's already getting up, you follow him with no hesitation.

“Where?” you ask abruptly, but Sebastian is already pulling you into the front room. Slipping his shoes on.

“Which ones yours?” Sebastian completely ignores your question. Sights set on getting the hell out and looking through the coats. “This looks like something you'd wear.”

“What? No! I would never wear that.” you sound offended, defensive. and smacking his hand away from the ugly purple coat and go to find yours.

Sebastian just laughs and it catches you off guard because he sounds so perfect. and he’s looking at you, and you're still and scared. you grab the black trench coat and let him drag you out and away from the party.

because between unspoken glances of growing trust and laughter as he fumbles with the keys to the rental car. you think to follow him anywhere. and maybe it was simply to get away from that party and the intense stares toward the random, weird girl in the corner who looks one inconvenience away from shooting herself. or maybe it simply was just — him.

you decided not to think about it too much.

“Do you like musicals?” Sebastian asks unprompted. He looks giddy and has a haze in his eyes. you wondered briefly if he should be driving.

“I like some.”

The question of where he’s taking you is still heavy in your head but the question doesn't seem to leave your lips.

Sebastian tucks lips beneath his teeth to hold back a wild, mischievous grin threatening to grow. He turns up the radio aux and the all-too-familiar sound of Andrew Garfield breaks out. you laugh loudly and Sebastian should probably be watching the road right now, but he’s not.

“I like this movie,” you say, referring to tick-tick boom. before you can begin your unasked criticism of the movie. Sebastian breaks out in an aggressive song and it startles you.

“don’t panic! don’t jump ship! I can't fight it!” Sebastian is screaming at the top of his lungs, literally. He turns to you in the passenger and points at you with his nose scrunched. He looks quite cute. “ —like taxes!”

“oh my god.” you gawk. Sebastian doesn't stop his one-man performance and all you can do it stare in amusement and chuckle quietly to yourself.

he doesn’t stop— no, no, now he’s encouraging you. but you're shaking your head violently but the growing smile says something different and Sebastian knows it. “come on! please!”

you shake your head no again

Sebastian is making an exaggerated frown face and he looks ridiculous.

“If I sing, will you tell me where we are going!”

The car slows and he’s driving on a straight road with almost no other cars in sight. Sebastian leans into your space, you don’t lean away. looked you dead in the eye and nothing matters.

“If you sing, I will make the next three to four hours the best you’ve ever had,” Sebastian says sincerely and calmly. He's too serious to be joking now. you bite back a smile and his eyes go back to the round.

your hand goes to turn up the volume and… here goes nothing.

“Friends are getting fatter! the hair on your head is getting thinner! feel like a cleanup batter, on a team that ain’t a winner.” you sing-shout and Sebastian looks more than pleased.

“don’t freak out! don’t strike out! can't fight it, like city hall!” he sings the next verse.

and then you do, and then he does. and then Sebastian put on grease, you suggest heathers and you duo seventeen. Sebastian is still driving with a grin on his face and you feel lighter.

your face hurts when the car finally stops, you want to think it’s from singing. but Sebastian knows it’s because you were smiling the entire ride.

“are you going to tell me why we’re at a grocery store?” you ask, blinking at the 24-hour large convenience store.

“I didn’t want to say anything to Mimi, but her car-cuter boards were not doing it for me.'' Sebastian gets out of the door and slams it shut, it makes you flinch slightly. you hoped he doesn't notice, especially as you linger in the passenger seat. He does, he looks back through the windshield and his giddy smile fades.

Sebastian mouths ‘are you coming?’ and you wonder if you should pretend you couldn’t read lips but it would make no difference. exhale, you open up the door and find your place next to him as you walk through the sliding doors.

the bright fluorescent lights hurt your eyes when you walk in, especially the one above the bathroom that is flickering.

“what’s the weirdest food combo you enjoy?” Sebastian asks. his eyes glance around the store eagerly. you know the look, he looks satisfied when he realizes it’s almost empty, aside from the old lady in the fruits second. the teenage worker. and some woman with 5 pregnancy tests in her hands and one pack of mints.

truly the almost midnight shopping experience.

“weirdest? that I enjoy…” you hum, “cottage cheese and Fritos.”

“that so weak!” he teases and it almost tugs out a smile, matching the one on his that reached his eyes and made the blue look brighter. you turn away trying not to stare or drown in them.

“okay, uhhh… sanyang noodle sauce and watermelon.”

Sebastian hums for a moment, thinking. “that might sound good.” he nods, “what about strawberries and mayo?”

your eyebrows furrow, “that sounds like a pregnancy craving? Are you pregnant, Sebastian?”

he laughs and reaches his eyes once again and a weird sense of pride swells in your chest. Sebastian stops in front of the produce and grabs a small thing of strawberries.

“no, but I’m going to make you try it.” he says.

you let out a breathy laugh, a poor excuse for one anyways. Sebastian's eyes linger on your face, waiting for you to smile. you don’t.

“Is this what we are doing? getting weird food combos?”

“if you want to, get whatever — I’ll pay.”

“That's good enough for me.” and say and grab the cubed watermelon in front of you.

and then you separate for a brief period. Each strolling the aisle of the small store, the bright lights still bothered you. for a moment, you could hear Sebastian humming while he stood on the other side of the shelves. you got caught up in it and ended up staring at a bag of hot onion rings.

so much you didn’t realize Sebastian was now next to you.

“you gonna get those? or just stare at them?” he asked, surprising you. you blinked rapidly as you fell back to reality.

as awkward as ever, you faked a laugh and grabbed them. “I’m getting them,” you were glad you actually like these. “just thinking.”

Sebastian hummed. He knew the look of spacing off until you dissociated well. He chose not to tease you for it.

turning towards the man, Sebastian held an entire chocolate cheesecake and cotton candy grapes. In truth, Sebastian didn’t like cotton candy grapes. mostly grabbing them for shits and giggles, but the smile that grew on your face made him even happier for grabbing them.

you quickly bit back the smile, “those are my favorites.”

Sebastian could have guessed.

“So you're saying if a dashingly handsome man offered you cotton candy grapes, you’d end up like noa?” Sebastian teased.

“maybe, not sure if i’d ever date a doctor though.”

“interesting.”

you walked side by side, your steps were the only noise between you two as you headed for the register. self checkout. you offered to pay, because you’re nice. Sebastian refused and said it was payback for the free coffee.

maybe you shouldn’t be looking at him like you are now. eye focused as he casually wore a small smile, the snacks beeped as he scanned them.

It was so stupid, he was doing something so normal and casual. you barely knew him and you were looking at him with love-sick eyes. Because to you, he looked so good, doing something so normal and maybe you should sit down and really think about your next actions. but you don’t, and you continue to stare and Sebastian notices.

“let’s go-“ he looks up to you, stopping his words when he realizes you were already looking. you feel in a trance when he stares back, with the same feeling in his blue orbs. but you barely know him.

you both snap out of it and start to walk back to the car.

The cold Canadian air hits you, sending a breeze through your hair. Sebastian sees you through the corner of his eye, it makes him smile for some reason. He feels young, like a teenager gazing at a crush in the hallway.

“I wonder what would have happened if we met 10-20 years ago.” Sebastian laughs, such a random question to you.

you hum, “I don’t know.”

Sebastian stares at you from across the car, his fingers graze over the handle and you’re cold. but the door is locked. as serious as ever, like his words wouldn’t knock you to your feet, Sebastian says; “I’d probably ask you on a date, I was really cocky back then because of gossip girl.” he laughs.

you gulp, anxiously waiting for him to unlock the door so you could get in and escape his eye contact.

“And I would decline, because I’d be married to someone else.”

Sebastian’s face falls, only for a moment before he forces out a pursed smile. It doesn't look real and maybe Sebastian isn’t that good of an actor in real life. “and you’d be married. I didn’t know you were married.”

“I know. not anymore.” you say. not like you try to hide it from literally everyone you meet now. Sebastian doesn't know though: and it’s refreshing. but now he’s going to ask about it and you prepare for that speech.

Sebastian unlocks the door.

The ride is a lot more silent now, you enjoy it while it lasts and watch the orange dew when Sebastian drives through the tunnel. you forget to ask where you were going until Sebastian stopped in front of an empty park.

“a park? at night?”

“Absolutely.” he says and he looks so sure of himself, grabbing the bags of food and you can’t help but follow him. you don’t even think about it.

it’s unspoken, and a trust that you don’t recognize in yourself. but you silently follow Sebastian's actions, almost till their own and you two move with the same mind and ideas.

and Sebastian brought a blanket because he just so happened to have one in the car. it’s cold but neither of you care. Sebastian laying on his back with his chest rising slowly, your sit crisscrossed and started going through the bag of snacks as Sebastian switched from gazing at the stars and your stone-like features. you’re so beautiful and Sebastian is so smitten.

“okay,” he sits up abruptly, “mayo and strawberries time, come on.”

He had a Cheshire grin on his face as he shook the mayo bottle. you shake your head, “mhm, no. I hate mayo.”

“I’m serious, you have to try it.” he’s smilesto himself as he squeezes the mayo onto the strawberry and you visually recoil.

“no, absolutely not.” you continue to shake your head.

but Sebastian Stan is Sebastian Stan and he flashes that smile and the moons reflect off his eyes and he’s smiling at you. at you.

“one bite and you can ask me any questions you’d like.” he offers, “anything. no boundaries.”

interesting.

“and you have to try the watermelon.”

he smiles because he knows he’s won. “I'll eat the watermelon if I can ask you one big question.”

you know what the question is, but Sebastian is gazing into your eyes like nothing's wrong. no one has hurt you and you feel warm and young. his blue iris takes you over and it cleans your soul, and he is looking at you.

with a quick roll of the eyes, you agree and Sebastian shoves the berry in your mouth. and sometimes you wish you’d listen to your head more than your heart; especially now.

“ew!” you yell, it comes out muffled because Sebastian put the entire berry in your mouth unprompted, stem and all. you fold into yourself as you search for a napkin to spit it out. “I should have never listened to you! oh my god, that was horrible.”

Sebastian breaks out into laughter as he watches your face scrunch up in disgust, he hands you a napkin and you throw the mushy mayo-strawberry to the side.

“Man, I gotta think of a horrible question.” you snark.

“Try me.” he says, testing the waters.

this feels oddly like the first night he met, maybe he shouldn’t be letting you do this. Maybe he’ll say something wrong again. knowing himself, he probably will.

you can’t look at him, you plop down and stare at the stars and hope he follows. Sebastian does.

“Do you actually like being an actor?”

Sebastian’s quick and ready junket or movie premiere answer is on the tip of his tongue and then he realizes. It's an empty park, night and stars shining down on him and he’s alone. alone with you. you're beside him and he can feel your warmth. Sebastian had to think of a new answer, it puzzles him.

he fully thought you’d ask something embarrassing of him. like it’s not already on some podcast or interview. Sometimes he regrets when he says those vulnerable and knowing things about himself. It's like giving a piece of himself to the world. in exchange: he’s not sure.

“Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t.” he exhales and it’s the only thing he can think of. “recently though; I’ve been liking it a lot less.”

you hum, so he knows you’re listening and you understand and you urge him to keep going. because the weight in his words makes you feel like it’s been bottled up and he’s letting his thoughts out barely, one by one.

“You know, sometimes it just feels like I’m not me. like I'm made up of things people think of me, and it’s hard to differentiate from that.”

he sighs, his chest feels heavy. “i guess I’m just tired of people picking me apart.”

“amen.” you attempt to joke and it leaves Sebastian off guard. but it’s not bad, he chuckles under his breath and you have a small, tiny smile on your face.

It's silent for a while, but it's okay. It's comforting and domestic and it reminds you of the morning Sebastian slept over. But you also know what’s about to come and you decide to just accept it because Sebastian is already asking the question he did before.

“I’m taking my questions now,” he says. “be honest this time. the real you, what broke you?”

the real you. you would never understand, Sebastian Stan.

you decide to go slow, and asses if you’ve been deceived and are stomping on enemy territory.

“Do you know Mile Franco?” the words come out and you don’t recognize your own voice, you feel dirty and slimy.

Sebastian's confusion shows heavily on his face, even if you can’t see it - you hear it in his words.

“the director? yeah. I auditioned to be in like 3 of his movies.”

you barely realize the words leave your lips until the awkward and painful silence follows after, the words rush out so quick you maybe hope Sebastian doesn't understand you.

“he’s my ex-husband. and he’s stolen every single one of those movies from me.”

your mind flashes to the metal ring that you used to wear with pride. the days you were trapped in those multi-million dollar hollywood houses, for literally weeks. you thought you were being loved as you gave the man your scripts and story and directorial work and talent for free. in exchange for what?: a few suicide attempts, trust issues, a 10 million dollar settlement, and a stolen Oscar for director of the year as the one thing to say “fuck you” to him. even if he had endless awards that should have your name on the plate

“Oh.” is all Sebastian can say and your sure you’ve fucked up. and he’s a secret die hard fan of his and he’s fawned over miles at award shows you should've been to, but you always found out he got invited after the red carpet and it was too late. you watch him accept your awards on the television.

“I met him fresh into film school. I graduated high school early so I was only 17. I had nothing to my name at the time” you exhale a shaky breath. “we were married for 13 years, it took 2 hospital trips for me to leave him. I took him to court for the rights - lost - and got settlement money instead.”

Sebastian feels his mouth go dry when he listens to you. abruptly sitting up, making you flinch as he looks down at you. anger, confusion, disgust, nervousness: you couldn’t tell but his face flared up with emotions as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“so all of his movies… you wrote? like all of them?”

“yes.” it comes out strangled and more like a croak.

Sebastian is processing what that all means to you for, for the film industry and himself. He loved his movie and admired him. Sebastian can only think to joke about it and also make a pathetic, desperate attempt to make you feel better.

“That explains why his movies have been really bad recently.” he scoffs and you actually laugh. Sebastian wants you to feel better.

“I guess.” you sigh. sitting up next to him.

Sebastian always knows how to push everything slightly over the edge and despite how much he’s talking himself from doing that with you. mysterious, mysterious girl. He can’t help himself and he begins to tread in unfamiliar territory.

“you’re divorced, away from him. So why do you continue to write movies and go uncredited?”

you breathe in. ready to give your avoidance-type answer you’d give Grace or change the subject. but Sebastian's looking at you and he looks caring and trusting and he’s not your therapist. you wonder what is wrong with you and if you should run and hide that this will be another Miles.

“I feel like they have this idea that when someone goes through something like I did, they’re supposed to blossom and take control and gain that power back.” you sigh, the continuous trope you see in the media that tire your back: because it’s not you, and you feel like a fraud. “But that’s not me, because I got pushed into that comfortable zone of being in the shadows despite the fact it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I know nothing else.”

Sebastian doesn't say anything. He doesn't know what to say and for once — the silence makes you uncomfortable. a light-hearted scoff leaves you, “and the reasons you don’t want to be an actor are the reason I don’t want that fame.”

“makes sense.” Sebastian says. he knows deep down that despite the fire brewing in the bottom of his stomach that feels betrayed for you. He doesn't act, you wear your stubbornness on your shoulder and Sebastian knows that no amount of cotton candy grapes will make you have a sudden epiphany tonight.

but he also knows the pent-up emotions of being silenced and talked over, and giving up trying anything else.

“get up.” Sebastian speaks softly, your eyes glance at him.

“What?” The smile on Sebastian's face confused you more. slowly, you rose up and went straight next to him. short-lived when Sebastian grasps your hand and jerks you up an empty field around the park, stumbling over your feet as he guides you to the top of the hill.

“okay, and stand here.” Sebastian still hasn't answered your questions, you were sensing a pattern. but you obey and stand directly next to him. you stare down the hill, you feel taller.

“Sebastian? what are you doing?”

“do you trust me?” he asked plainly, a tease at the end of his words that caused your lip to quirk up slightly. it’s getting too easy for him to do this.

“I barely know you.”

“You know more than most.” Sebastian breathes out and quickly faces the sky again. “Now, breathe.”

you inhale slowly and exhale, your chest rises and you wonder why you trust him. you probably shouldn’t.

“scream,”

“what?”

“scream, scream as loud as you want, scream at the stars, scream at the clouds, scream at the world. just scream until you feel better.”

Sebastian finished and you look and see a solemn smile on his face. “You're crazy.”

“do it.”

you turn to the stars, keep your mouth shut. an invisible latch on it that’s stopped you from this for years - decades. You can’t help but wonder how often Sebastian does this and if his therapist told him to do this. Does he even go to therapy? probably not.

before you can even muster up anything to scream about, a deep and loud yell startles you. Sebastian begins screaming his head off and you're laughing suddenly, you don’t know why but you are.

“Come on.” he encourages, slightly disappointed that you didn’t join straight away. but Sebastian is good at pushing, and you need a lot of it.

“There's something about you, Sebastian Stan” you whisper enough for him to hear, it mixes in with the soft sounds of the wind.

“scream or I’ll cry myself to sleep.” Sebastian deadpans.

“This is manipulation.”

Sebastian just smiles and turns back around and screams, again. loud but you don’t flinch this time. playfully you roll your eyes, gulping down all your anxieties and you really hope the dam doesn't break fully and you end up crying. you scream, loud and shrill but Sebastian hears the pain in it and is proud you're letting at least a little bit of it out.

it died down and faded into belly laughter, Sebastian clutched his stomach and curled into himself. a wide Cheshire grin that matched yours now.

“I hope no one calls the cops on us,” he mentions through waves of laughter.

“Just name drop, we’ll be fine.” you wave him off and don’t notice that he’s staring at you with a glint in his eyes that are highlighted by the stars and moon. He looks gorgeous, only if you could see it. you’d know how love sick he was growing.

Sebastian's laughter subdued and he glanced from you and the large hill. an idea pops into his head and for a moment he wonders if he’s pushing too far, but it is forgotten when he goes to grab your hand.

“Now we roll!” he yells out, a childish grin on his face. you whip your head towards him and his hand that holds yours. he is so warm, you feel a sense of comfort in your chest.

“What?!”

and you’re rolling, Sebastian pulls you down and your face is met with wet grass. but you can’t help but just laugh some more when you find yourself at the bottom and in Sebastian’s arms. you're not bothered by the sudden closeness, you feel you should be.

“you’re a horrible influence, look at my hair!” you point out.

“Your hair looks great.” Sebastian says, one hand on your waist and the other patting any fly away or grass in your hair away.

his eyes glance to your lips, and you notice that. you feel your heart beating faster and you wonder if Sebastian can hear it too. with Sebastian so close, chest to chest, you're sure he can.

“you going to throw me off or…?” you gulp.

Sebastian just shakes his head, his iris glancing at every single detail of your face. “nope.”

“Oh.”

not to be cliche, but the world feels like it’s stopped. the quietest sound of Sebastian thumb grazing against your skin, the wind stops blowing through the grass and leaves and it’s just you and him.

“I hope I'm not misreading the situation…” Sebastian alludes, slowly closing the distance between you two.

“you’re not.” you breath out and barely a second later his lips are on yours.

it’s wrong, everything about this is wrong. you feel the rise of doom in your stomach. but he’s warm and soft against your lips and your heart says something different because it feels so right. he feels like the first drink on a night out, you know tomorrow will be hell but you couldn’t stop yourself because he feels so good.

Sebastian's tongue swipes across your lips and his hands grasp tighter on your hip and back. He flips you over gently, his knee is in between your thighs but it’s not sexual. He kisses you gently and fully, he doesn't tease and takes his time. you feel the grass beside your head and it pricks at your skin, but it doesn't bother you.

a small sound comes from each of your lips, a moan even. it’s not hungry or asking for more, you feel full and content. Sebastian isn’t looking for your body or making this kiss feel like some milestone to be advanced after.

but then he pulls back and you feel empty, it’s so confusing — you hate it.

“was that too much?” he asks, still so giddy and head high from having you against him.

“not at all. thank you.”

a moment of silence, it’s not uncomfortable or ungiving, but you pull away and Sebastian crawls off you. rising to his feet and lending you a hand. you check your phone, it’s late - way late.

“I think I should be getting back.” you sigh, this feels like the end of a movie. reality hits you tomorrow and you feel the high calm down, oh how will you replace it?

Sebastian looks a little disappointed, but he attempts a face for you to not see it. “Okay, I’ll drive you.”

He pulls you by the hand again and for the last time that night, you sit in his passenger seat and continue to listen to whatever’s on the radio. small and meaningless chatter, about movies and television. specifically horror for a while. Sebastian doesn’t like horror which shocks you. but he also makes fun of you for the fact your favorite movie is Rocky and mayday.

you watch him when he smiles and frowns or when he does that thing where he pokes his tongue on the side of his cheek, you deny to yourself that you think it’s hot. warm and orange lights from driving through a tunnel show on his face and your brain instantly thinks you want to make a movie with orange color grading, with Sebastian as the leading man. probably something depressing.

The thought of being in love with Sebastian plagues your mind for a moment, and you wonder if this is what it would feel like.

and you hate the feeling even more when he drops you off at the hotel and you're left alone again with nothing but your thoughts. you long to see him again and it scares you.

the orange bottle in your bag taunts you, you can’t help it. old habits die hard.

[restforthe-burdenedsoul]

Financial venting/ranting/complaining ahead

I’m so tired of this.

We re-did our budgets and the only thing we have left to cut out is date nights/friend hangs. Because I can’t cut out therapy totally. And we can’t cut out melodys training. It’s been too positive of a change.

In the meantime, I still can’t afford to see any doctors or schedule my adhd assessment. I don’t know where the money goes. The only thing I see when I break down our spending is going out to eat. Like, 100$ a month. And we can’t anymore.

All my friends live hours away, can’t go see them anymore either. It’s too much in gas and they won’t make the drive to me. So I guess I don’t have friends again haha.

Just never gonna leave my house again apparently. If we get to have a house. Because right now it’s looking like we can’t afford the rent increase. We can’t afford to save for a down payment even with the assistance programs.

And I just want to give up. What did i do wrong in life to end up here? Why does having a bachelor degree make me no money? Why can’t my job give us raises so we can fucking afford to have our own place and eat. Because even groceries are getting to be too expensive. We’ve cut back a lot on what we eat. I like to cook a little fancy/multiple ingredients.

Tonight is just chicken rice and beans. We did pasta with chicken the other night. I’m trying to use up the rest of the pasta we have right now but that’s really all we’ve been eating. Which I’m thankful for. I’m just aggravated. We’re in our mid 30s and have nothing to show for it.

We are inviting M’s friend/ex over on Saturday (her wife can’t join us until like, end of May and we need to let our apartment know about our least by mid May) to ask her if we can live with them for a few months.

I hate this. I hate that as two adults with full time jobs, we have to move in with another couple to afford to have something over our heads. The plus side is that it’ll allow us to save and hopefully I will find a higher paying job in Orlando.

I’m sick to my stomach with this move. I’m so scared I won’t find a job. And we’ll have moved away from my steady job. I can’t commute from her house. It’s two hours away from my schools.

I could potentially live with my parents during the week tho. They’re the same distance, possibly closer, to my schools. But that would leave M living with his ex without me during the week.

I think we are at a good place emotionally with all that but living with her and her wife is a whole different ball game and I’m not a fan. But the other option is to renew the lease- not be able to afford anything extra (therapy, dog training. And of course the stuff we can’t afford now) and never get ahead. Like literally just never get ahead. We can’t save anything right now. We could never save for a house down payment like that. And we can’t afford the rent out there. And I can’t get a job out there without having a place secured. My car is not reliable enough right now for that kind of commute.

I just wanna crawl into a hole and never come back out. We shouldn’t be pay check to paycheck. I shouldn’t have to cancel doctor appointments and therapy appointments becsyse we can’t afford it.

I just spent 250$ for my eye exam and lenses. I don’t think I can afford to buy contacts after that. Even tho I did the contact exam too. I haven’t had the extra funds for contacts in over two years. Granted, I do prioritize things over the contacts but it shouldn’t have to be contacts or date night, contacts or melodys training, contacts or Groceries. I’m sick of it.

[paramounticebound]

heeey! small update to say I’m alive, just not around. things irl have been... bad, which saps my creativity and desire to do anything aside from panic. that said, i need to force myself to do... something positive/distracting soon, and i’m thinking that thing may be a little writing this week. hopefully. :’)

hope all of you are doing good and happy holidays if you celebrate any!

a small vent about what’s going on under the cut because i don’t want to pollute the dash with my negativity-- but i need an outlet rip.

i’ve been really, really ill since the beginning of september, enough so that i lost my job and haven’t been able to work since. i’m seeing a specialist for my ailment at the end of the month, but man, the waiting is agonizing. painful. this put a huge burden on my spouse having the only income. the long and short of it is that they fell ill for about a week and missed work. so there’s only half a paycheck coming, we’re already late on rent, and realistically can’t afford it this month. we’re so behind on things, my medical bills are ridiculous, we have a payday loan we’re still paying off. i managed to finagle things with utilities, but i’m expecting an eviction notice.

tomorrow is me fighting my crippling anxiety to call around and see if there’s any sort of community help we can get, but i’m doubtful. then to beg our property manager for a payment plan for the second time this month. 

i just-- it’s really hard right now. i don’t have anyone to talk to about this and the stress is literally causing insomnia and weight loss at this point. sorry this isn’t rp related, i just needed to vent a little skdlfjldsf

[maknaesdancersrappers]

YUPPPPPP JAEHYUN IS CONFIRMED TO BE A MAIN CHARACTER IN “6 Hours Later, You’ll Die.” WHICH IS LIKE A MYSTERY THRILLER apparently his character is a killer who pretends to be nice (and the cute thing is when dojaejung had a fancon here in manila, they were asked about what genre would they like to see jaehyun in and they said mystery because they wanna see jaehyun’s evil or creepy smile!!! they were teasing BECAUSE THEY KNEW omfg i’m so excited to see how jaehyun will act out for this role and i’m hoping that it’s his real big break for his acting career considering dear m’s difficulties because of her co-actress’ issue 😭)

2 major Ws for us today for receiving this news about jae and us receiving a devoted update 🥳 but i feel bad for being happy when you had the update as a distraction for what you’re going through. i hope you’re taking care of yourself despite what happened 🩷 i hope that u heal and feel better soon!

just some Qs!!! what are some things up for devoted now? are the questions for the characters still open? i remember readers sending in questions for the characters here!!! idk how to navigate that much here in tumblr so i cant tell but did you update last friday at 1:27? is that going to be a thing again? missed your active era omg i might as well be again too after your update 😭 i literally told my friend to stfu since i thought she was pranking me about a devoted update to get my attention lmfaooo

and if only you’re comfortable to answer and share! how are you, really? what have you been up to? just wanted to check on u since you’ve shared some life updates before.

sorry about this long ass message but i just wanted u to feel that we’re still here 🩷 i used to be a silent reader but i realized how much it means to authors when readers leave a message whether its short or a long one :) hope this one cheered u up! thank you again, rj!

i never watched dear.m bec my attention span wont let me

but thats so cool!! THE UNIVERSE REALLY SAID YALL LIKE PSYCHO JAEHYUN, HERE U GO ugh manifested me thinks

regarding OPEN FORUM, you can definitely send some in as always!!

for update schedules, i can't promise a proper timeline for it since i'm back to full time* but i can promise that i'll be writing more often now and will have it updated as soon as i proofread it!

will hide the rest of my answer since im gonna rant AHAHAH

as for my... well being, i guess -- i'm in a gray area at the moment. *i said i'm back to full time earlier because for the months of May and June, I asked to be a part timer since it's slow season for our company. but that also meant my paycheck would be cut in half. I'm not really happy with work right now since it's so draining (i work 10 hours/5 days) and i want to quit and look for work but im not in a position to do so (i have no savings bc of family medical issues). so im considering finding another source of income, but idk what to do really.

so ye thats whats been happening in mi life 😪 ill be fine eventually ^^

[brilapse]

Christmas time this year is so stressful ffs

this Christmas, I can’t really afford to buy everyone gifts, I can barely afford to buy my immediate family gifts :|

Like: my Dad and step mom

My mom and step dad

My brother and fiancé

My brothers 2 step daughters and newborn son

Like let’s say I spend a minimum of $30 each (lol probably can’t even find a gift this cheap) for each person - that’s nearly $300 with tax and shit

I literally get 25% less than a normal pay right now which works out to be approx $800 a month I’m losing out on which is a HUGE difference. Like when I was working and not on short term disability, and getting a 100% paycheck, the average amount we’d have left after paying bills and putting aside money for bills and stuff each pay period (my fiancé and I get paid around the same time) was like $600. Now it’s closer to $200 with my pays being short. That $200 barely covers gas and groceries every two weeks - before we’d have like $200-300 leftover after gas and groceries to get things or put in savings or whatever - I’d be able to get Christmas gifts but idk how I’m gonna get them this year

It’s just so annoying and stressful and we’re debating selling our gaming PC to be able to buy Christmas gifts for people and we won’t be able to replace it for a few months and that sucks because it’s the one thing that makes us happy LMAO LAME I KNOW and I wish I could just not get anyone Christmas gifts this year and skip it and tell everyone to not get us anything but I know they won’t get us nothing and then Itll be awkward and I’ll feel horrible- especially my dad and step mom. They helped us out in the summer when we got our first home before I went on short term disability, my dad co-signed with me to get the house, and we used most of our savings for the down payment and then the rest for the Reno’s like the ceilings- and then the $3000 that we still needed for the Reno’s and stuff, my dad helped with and then they also bought us a really nice couch, because we were gonna get one from marketplace and he was like no you need a new couch, and got us a $2500 sectional as a gift- I’m paying back the $3000 he helped with the Renos but still- they really helped us out when we ran out of savings to get this house and I just, I wanna be able to get them a nice gift and UGH IM JUST SO STRESSED OUT

CHRISTMAS IS SUPPOSED TO BE MY FAVOURITE TIME OF THE YEAR AND ALL IM PLAGUED WITH IS STRESS AND FEELINGS OF INADEQUACY AND AHHHHH

Anyone else having these issues this year? With inflation this year too, I can imagine a lot of people are just as stressed… and as much as I hope that isn’t the case for other people, idk, hearing it is may help me feel better….. misery loves company and all that jazz…. I know- horrible of my part :(

Anyways, rant over :))) I feel a bit better getting all of that off my chest even though I still feel awful and feel like crying lol

[itsnotmyfaultsomepeoplecantread]

Ok first, this made my day because he really was an icon in that episode and I’m very pleased to have this knowledge (which I can now laugh at every time I think about it).

But ALSO, as I was describing this to my mom (who has not seen good omens), I realized I might have a… Hot Take™️. Like. Potentially a *really* Hot Take™️. Especially with all of the issues with the film industry right now. Bare in mind that I completely support the writers and actors striking right now, realize how difficult an industry it is to get into, and acknowledge that things desperately need to change in terms of equality on so many levels.

But here’s my thought: child actors who aren’t born into acting families are so often horribly abused, manipulated, and coerced into shit that leaves them traumatized. We have seen so many kid actors dive off the deep end as adults and end up in shit circumstances.

Why? Because they are basically being sold into acting by their parents. Their parents are making and keeping the money. And kids are a lot easier to manipulate than fully grown adults.

But think about what would happen if someone messed with David Tennant’s or Chris Hemsworth’s kid. That person would be instantly decimated and cast out of college.

Those kids grew up around acting and the industry and the complaints (I’d imagine) that the parents have. And they have their parents to back them up. They’re not just *the better option* but they’re probably going to be a lot SAFER on set than other kids.

I could totally see how nepotism babies become so important in the film industry, and families are on screen for generations. Boiling down nepotism to just being a problem of the film industry is a lot more complicated than that. It’s really, I’d imagine, just a symptom of a much deeper toxicity that permeates the whole industry.

And to be honest, as an ex-teacher, I’d rather have those famous peoples’ kids on screen than worry about kids who aren’t used to that dynamic being put in situations where they can’t stand up for themselves, because they have someone with them who knows the industry well enough to stand up for them. And they’re not just doing it so the parents can get the paycheck (and before you fight me, remember that girl from iCarly who literally wrote a book that’s title said she was glad her mom was dead and how traumatic being a child actor was for her).

I’m sure there are a lot of exceptions to this, and again, I’ll specify that I understand it’s a complicated issue. But I think maybe that other perspective has to be mentioned, because child abuse behind the scenes is a really fucking big problem still.

And all of that doesn’t even begin to discuss the other issues of how complicated it must be to have to figure out your identity when you’re growing up spending most of your time as another person. Not everyone is made for that, and for some kids it might be really difficult to get through those feelings if they’re not used to being around that to begin with.

Some states in America have literally changed laws to allow child workers again. And being an actor is still a job in any country. So please, let’s not forget the kids in the industry when we’re having these discussions of complex issues. I’m not saying it’s easy, I’m not saying that it isn’t a problem, but we have to think about every single side of this.

they really brought david tenant’s son in and said hey do you want to play a gay little boy in good omens 2. just a little camp mf. nepotism done right.

[n0resistance]

Living Off The Side Hustles.  

  I started having multiple jobs as a survival skill when I moved to LA. I never did it consistently til then. I would first do a production assistant job or an acting gig in New York when I got booked. It took me forever to get a good job in LA, but I got a hotel job, and had a bar-backing gig on the weekends.  It wasn’t that easy to get the 2 day bar back gig. I had no bartending experience so carrying ice buckets,  making syrups and juices, and changing kegs was how you started out. The best part of it, is you don’t have to talk to people. After working in hotels for as long as I have that was the biggest perk. A job where I don’t have to talk to people or deal with their problems. What a dream.

   For any one who wants to bartend, start bar-backing. Bartending school is a scam. First learn to change a keg and cut a lemon wedge at an expensive place. Make tips and make friends. It’s really a networking game. However, bar-backing hurt my feet, going up and down stairs all night long. I came to the realization “oh shit I’m 26 and off my dad’s health insurance.” So, I went right back into a full time job at a hotel for Health Insurance. My boss was so chill, I proved to her my work ethic and Friday and Saturdays were mine at the bar. I remember saying “I got a job at a hotel because I need health insurance and benefits”, she asked “are you sick?” I said, “no but I could be”.  My thoughts were, Just in case something happened to me in LA I had the health insurance for any other accident I may encounter. I was biking everywhere and always on shoots. Anything could happen.

   The reality was even though the front desk had a steady paycheck and benefits if I just worked there I would barely make my rent. However,  not being a manager. Just being an agent with a bar back job paid more than the manager gig. Tips are more.  Especially if you’re making your 20% off of 4 bartenders. It’s just hard to sustain when you get older.

    I recently have realized my brain has always had ADHD. I never took medicine but it’s true ADHD explains a lot. Being allergic to boredom and the mundane. The inability to do the same thing everyday. Having amazing ideas, however,  without urgency have them go unfinished.  Seeking novelty,  which makes sense why I love living in cities with lots of things to do. Why I love switching up my environment. Always seeking new places.  Why working in an office literally puts me into a depression. Having a hard time with authority or lack of creativity. Sensitive to lighting, sounds, smells, and being very irritable because of it. All me all adhd.

    When I moved back to New York I went right into restaurants and would flip back and forth with Hotel Management. It was nice to have options and not be all or nothing with one job. The freedom to leave helped me because once I was mistreated, I don’t have to think twice about leaving. Working on small projects like reels, music videos, a play, a proof of concept, or writing a feature was fulfilling as an artist. My events which are something that gave me both money and validation for my films. Would get better each time. I felt it was such a hard job to put on a show but yes, I am working for my self here! And being creative and creating a community. Putting talented people on stage, I am responsible for this! It was my biggest achievement since going back home.

    Since my dog passed away a couple years ago; walking dogs became another side hustle. And when I left working full time I was a pure part-time hospitality professional. At the stage where I’m confident in what I’m doing.  However, work trauma will always be there. It���s hospitality, we’re always understaffed and work with many personalities and there’s always tension at some point over something. Or that’s what my old environments were like. Now I work with small teams, part time, and freelance where it’s way more peaceful. As well as creative.

     The stress of working in Manhattan where your drinks cost $25 or your rooms cost $300 a room, the stakes are high, lots of drama due to lack of respect, and dealing with management. Even if you decide yourself that you don’t want stress you become stressed out. Absorbing other people’s stress. So when I was stressed I would take a break with dogs. Especially with dog sitting and being able to hangout with them and focus on writing. 

    So far my side hustles are how I make a living. I don’t work anywhere full time anymore. The new gig makes me excited for the new day. After having jobs where all I did was hear people complain and fix problems; I am way healthier now. I’m not okay with getting underpaid as well as overworked. I’m at the stage of my life where I just want to get in and out. 

   Events I do are fun because each event I do feel like I’m creating a stage. Freelance is great because even though it’s a very intense day I don’t go back for a couple weeks. I also like to feel like I’m actually helping. As for dogs, the behavioral issues and the elderly dogs are tough. You must love them and they give you so much love back. I believe my next ventures might be yoga and real estate. One for money and the yoga to balance myself out.

    I’m trying to embrace the unique person that I am. I used to hate myself for not being able to do 9-5 in an office. The boredom and the monotonous routines. If you’re so not interested in your job, you probably need to get another or be like me and get 3. Because becoming sad or unhealthy isn’t an option. Our complaints are valid with our jobs, and the unreasonable expectations. The thing I like to remember is that I have a choice to be there everyday or to not be.

    Just like I have a choice to be with my partner or to be an artist. Money comes and goes but the damage these toxic environments have can last as long as you’ll let it. I think there’s an age you hit where you are just over the drama. 

    No matter how old I get or where life takes me. I will always want to create, I will always have a passion for acting, writing, and making films that speak the truth. I hope to always get the opportunity to do just that. As for making money, I Atleast must feel good on the day to day.

[howaboutcastiel-personal]

It’s 2 am (June 9) and I basically just finished purging my closet so ????

I meant to write earlier today anyway

I just had this thought earlier that like. I’m allowed to have character flaws. It’s normal, and also impossible NOT to have them. But I think one of my character flaws is having little motivation to do chores if there’s the caveat that they have to be done a certain way. When I do my own chores like I did at school, I’m generally more productive. I do the chores more often. It’s okay.

Also my stomach hurts. I’m just tired of it hurting. Always hurting. Doesn’t matter what I do really. Just hurts. And it’s not like I have super control over my diet. I mean I do. But it’s a lot of work and I don’t want to have to separate my food from the family’s food.

Plus it’s hard for me to be a whole person right now. I have a lot of focus and memory problems. A problem with motivation like I would rather be asleep all the time and I would be accept for the guilt and shame associated with it. Plus I know it’s not good for me or my body. Not like I take great care of my body though.

Anyway, the only goal I have right now is Find a New Way. And then the goals I’m supposed to have are get a job and drive a car. And then the more goals I do have but are far away are get a place of my own. Just space that is mine. I guess. I don’t really know what all.

I’m not really feeling friends either. Like I talk to otter every day. I do like that. But then there’s Ryder and I don’t want to bother them. And there’s Lonny and enough said about that and there’s Nheyla and she lives in Australia. And Katie but we’re not great for each other.

I just think it’s stupid the way that jobs work. And also stupid the way that society works. Up until literally 100 years ago we had walkable communities like it was the default for all of human history but now it’s some kind of fundamental failure if you can’t drive a car because you just can’t function in society. I think it’s ridiculous.

I want to be able to walk to work in the morning, work for 4 or 6 hours and be done with it. It’s 2024 and we have ai and automation and there’s no reason EXCEPT CAPITALISM that we even have scarcity or that we should have to work forty hours a week or healthcare isn’t universal or groceries are half our paycheck and rent is twice the paycheck and literally every single part of life for some reason has meticulous paperwork attached to it and you can and will be subject to dire consequences if you fail to promptly and correctly fill out that paperwork.

Like yes. I’m living in the age of modern medicine and global instantaneous communication and the World Wide Web and yada yada but they’re killing us. They are actively killing us and they know it and they want to keep doing it. And they’re killing the planet too. And people hate people just because they can.

Like more than half of Americans hate people just for being brown or gay or atheist or highly educated or child free or poor or fat or for having colors in their hair.

Why can’t people just be nice? Why can’t people want everyone to be clothed and housed and fed? Why can’t people want the world to thrive???? This is why I can’t believe in god because if god was real and all knowing and all good or whatever. He wouldn’t make the most powerful people in the world evil. God set us up for failure if he’s real and I could never forgive him for that. But it does make more sense to just say he isn’t real.

[riondisease]

i need to tell you about how fucking insane the housing market is right now (at least in the area i’m from in america but i can’t imagine it’s much better elsewhere) source: both me and my mom and my cousin have been looking for houses the last 2 years so i’ve heard all of this at least 6 times.

when you’re trying to buy a house you need a loan from your bank, they approve you for a certain amount depending on how much money you make, sounds easy peasy right? you get the loan, you find a house for that much and you live there? fucking apparently not in the year of our lord 2023.

because see, what happens is that everyone wants $150k+ for their shitty house. and when the bank does an appraisal to see how much the house is worth, they call you after and are like hey dawggity dawg, this house is only worth like $60k, why the fuck would we give you $180k for it. what’s even more frustrating is you can look at the house’s history and see that it sold for $60k 4 years ago!!!! the fuckers that bought it didn’t do anything to raise its value, they just want an extra $100k literally for no reason. what happens then is that only super rich people who can afford to pay for the house without a loan can buy it.

okay so there’s obviously some sort of weird market bullshitery going on, what does any of this mean?

allow me to go on a tangent for awhile. my cousin was in the air force, he’s married, he has young kids and he can’t afford a house. he lives with his mom. this is insane to me because america has always pretended to care about people who have past military service, to care about white nuclear families. the reason why this is so scary to me is that, previously, these were the people who never had to give a fuck about all this, and if even they can’t find anywhere to live what does this mean for everyone else. black and indigenous families? single parents? single people in general? poor/low income people? any intersectionality? where are all of us going to go?

this gap becoming wider and wider is genuinely terrifying. in decades previous if you were privileged, worked, had a family, etc. life was fucking great, and even if you were marginalized, single, and couldn’t work/were poor, there was still a way you could survive and have a house. don’t get me wrong it was still very intense and i don’t want to understate how much people struggled and just how many of these people were homeless, but now doing all that feels like it’s going to be impossible in the future.

my mom has worked at her job for almost 8 years now, she makes $900 per paycheck, tons of debt, she has no health insurance, and we live at my grandparents house. before that she was homeless, she only moved back in with her parents because i was going to be born. can you imagine devoting years of your life to a job and having nothing to show for it except that you and your child are still alive? and that is a huge accomplishment, we’re very lucky, but it just shouldn’t have to be like this. people deserve to have more than just the bare minimum to get by.

eventually my mom’s parents will pass away and her siblings will inherit their house. and they’ll want to sell it for an extra $100k than it’s worth. i don’t know where my mom will go. my current life plan for awhile has been that after i finish high school i’m going to live in my van/car/whatever. i can’t afford to go to college. i sure as hell can’t afford to rent, let alone buy a house. it’ll be hard to make sure my animals are safe and won’t freeze or overheat, as well as just being hygienic and having access to things people with a house wouldn’t have to think about.

and just. man it feels so weird to be staring into uncertainty like this. what’s the situation going to be in 10, 20, 30 years? will only the super rich have houses? will everyone live in their car? will cars become too expensive? what then? i know capitalism is a fundamentally broken system but every year it just gets weirder and weirder and i don’t think it’s going to stop any time soon. it feels like we’re just going to keep being forced into increasingly difficult and unsafe situations. for the most part i try to remain hopeful about the future, but there is a very noticeable trend that’s been happening for the last 60+ years and every decade seems worse than the last.

[mile61]

- big boss and double big boss said on like monday that fieldworkers we’re going to be hourly instead of salary

- definitely benefits fieldworkers but i am no longer in the field but still classified as such

- chatted with the big boss the day after the meeting to express my concerns and reassess my title and position to be in line with what im doing now

- told im getting a 12% raise

- yes we can definitely discuss your position, you’re a valuable member of the team and we built a great team

- internal shocked pikachu face attempts to remember words bc I didn’t really realize that this entire district is run my my supervisor, me, and occasionally another architectural historian and we get compliments from the district on how efficiently we get things done

- wednesday (yesterday) i was officially accepted into my top choice graduate program and unofficially accepted to my third choice. the third choice also extended an offer to host me on their campus, have a face to face chat more in depth (than our 45 minute chat that was only slotted for 30 minutes bc we both have obscure experiences working on southern coastal islands and mutual acquaintances), and meet some current students and faculty

- external shocked pikachu face all day long because holy heck what is going on!!! last week was terrible for me personally but this week my career blossomed wow

- and that’s not all!

- one program I applied to isn’t doing the program anymore so I get my application fee back and that’s dope

- today (thursday) I gossiped with my supervisor when I told her I got into her alma mater and when we have our ‘water cooler’ chats we take at least 30 minutes but it’s wfh so like it’s company culture ok

- so we’re gossiping and I told her about the fieldworker thing, that I talked to big boss, and about the whole annual review thing. She was like “that’s crazy, you’re not in the field, you definitely shouldn’t lost your salaried position. I’ll talk to him about what to do for the review”

- the big boss called me at like 4:45 and said he had two pieces of good news for me. queue stunned silence and then “alright hit me with it”. “well first, you’re getting an end of the year bonus on your next paycheck. Its three months late but it’s there”

- I literally am so stunned into silence I had to force words out of my brain and into my mouth

- “also, you’re going to stay salaried in your position with your bonus. you were absolutely right and we want to keep you happy” WOW

- ( did my supervisor talk to him about this because I was just gossiping about company things like we do 😭 )

- tyty big boss he has no idea how much this job has impacted my life and truly transformed it and allowed me to grow into different interests that I’ve now been accepted to grad school for

- all because three people separately told me I should think about architectural history bc you make bank and apparently I’m quite good at it, picked up on it very easily, and would love it (they’re right, I do). two of those people wrote letters of recommendation for all eight schools I applied to

- im respected by my colleagues! I’m in demand! Grad schools want me to go there! I still have to hear from several other programs, but I think I know where I’m gonna go. I’ll be visiting two campuses at the end of this month probably!

- reality sets in that I’m financially stable for the first time in my life and I have options out there. I’ll move out of my hometown for good within the next five months. Lots to do in that amount of time!

- im in shock. I’m just thrilled. I lucked my way into this position by accident (in a literal, physical therapy filled way) and have just exceeded all expectations

- no matter what or where, I’ll be starting school and working full time advancing my dream career in august!!!

[astramthetaprime]

And then it all went merrily to hell...

Never congratulate yourself.  It always ends in tears.  

So two days -- two days -- after posting that last post from my phone because I was just so goddamned happy to be writing again ... 

I have a day job.  It’s not much of a day job as I work 40 hours a week and yet do not make enough to cover all my bills of a month.  Despite proving this twice to the State of Tennessee, I have been rejected for food stamps twice.  It’s now a daily (er, weekly?) occurrence that I get my paycheck, go to get groceries, then the next week I’m overdrawn and cannot get groceries for the second week because the only things I have spent money on are literally utility bills... So yeah, I’m now going through the house designating stuff to be sold on Ebay.  Geez I thought I left off staring at auction screens the last time I logged off WoW.  I still savor the irony that I was a very successful and wealthy Gnome in WoW and I’m literally a step away from destitution in real life.  I blame not being able to wander through my neighbors’ yards ripping up handfuls of plants to be sold to the highest bidder.  But I digress.  

Anyway.  So Wednesday, I logged on to work.  I work at home, btw.  So, logged on.  Immediately pulled into private chat by my supervisor.  I was told that the company is no longer doing back office work, and the work I’m currently doing is ending.  I am given a choice -- phone work, or my last day is December 9th.  

I did phone work when I first signed on to this outfit.  I was customer service for TurboTax, during tax season.  With a camera aimed at my face.  Involving a very complex system that I had to learn to proficiency in 2 weeks.  While trying to understand and deal with often upset and angry people for eight hours a day.  

When I was moved off that, I made it extremely clear to my supervisor I would not do phone work again.  And to be fair, they honored that by putting me on my current job, essentially doing back office data entry.  At the time I was not as aware as I am now of my various autistic problems, but I knew that I did not need to be on the verge of tears every moment I was logged in to that system.  I can’t keep up with what people are saying, often I cannot understand them over the phone, and having to deal with a computer system that I likely only vaguely understand and for which any mistake could get me fired at any moment, well... 

And to top it all off, no one else in my group has been told this.  So it looks like I’ve been targeted.  Do a job you cannot handle, or be laid off.  And since I would have refused a reasonable job offer, I would not be eligible for unemployment.  

Mind you, for a job that pays so little it doesn’t pay all my bills.  

So I said yes.  Because what choice was I given?  I have such a difficult time getting a job at all that I stay because I may be out of work for months or even years even in this “we’re hiring everybody” job climate.  Because I’m so bad at the socialness of getting a job that I am never hired.  Why did I stay with the Post Office for 23 years, through documented abuse and racism, manipulation and exploitation?  Because I knew I’d never get another decent job.  

And for all the current pro-Union sentiment going around, the American Postal Workers Union never, in all those 23 years, helped me to improve those situations.  They told me to destroy evidence of abuse, they stood by and did absolutely nothing when their own steward was ringleading the abuse in another case, and didn’t bother to show up to adjudicate an arbitration where I could prove hands down I was in the right.  Bless the kids at Starbucks and Amazon and wherever else, I hope you guys can do it better, but unions are useless parasites as far as I’m concerned.  

The point is, I was given no choice but to accept a job that I am not suited for, which will cause me stresses I am not equipped to deal with, for far less than a living wage.  

I’ve started putting in applications again online.  Likely nothing will come of it, and if anything does I won’t make it past the first interview.  But at the very least I stick up for myself a bit more than I used to.  That’s something, isn’t it?  I may not react quickly, but at least these days I react.  Eventually.  

I wish... I wish a lot of things.  I wish I’d had some kind of gumption at some point in my life to learn an actual trade.  I’ve never had any ambition or urge to learn ... oh, you know, programming or truck driving or plumbing or what have you.  I can type.  I type damned fast, to be honest, and very accurately.  I’ve tried to learn various things at various times, I’ve got CompTIA’s A+ and Network+ certifications from 2013 because at the time I was aiming to get a job doing computer tech work.  But it never went anywhere.  It’s like the dots just don’t connect somewhere in my head.  Like the Underpants Gnomes joke, Step 1 Do this thing + ???? = Step 3 Profit!  I never have been able to figure out the ????.  

And now I’m 53 goddamned years old and I keep wondering if it’s possible to get PTSD from repeatedly being manipulated and exploited for the past several decades.  And why do I never have a case against these motherfuckers so I can finally sue somebody into the middle of next week for what they’ve done to me.

So after that little “talk” I went back to work.  Because of course you do.  I have to work.  I can’t afford to take a day off.  I spent the rest of Wednesday crying and nauseous.  And got only four hours of sleep the night after.  

On top of the thing with my idiot cousin the weekend before, I just... I’m just done, ya’know?  

But after work, despite it all, not every night but a couple nights since, I’ve turned on my own machine.  I’ve loaded my notes, fired up my writing music, looked at my character photos, and dreamed of another world.  Until this one is done, I’m stuck here.  Until then it’s not The End.  

[faeroyce]

peace-love-piper​:

Piper only had a moment to stare in wonder at the strange door that disappeared into the cavern wall before she was being addressed by the spunky bassist. Her brow crinkled in confusion and she said, “My—?” and then Piper flushed as she realized Dani thought Piper was intentionally trying to Charm her, and that she’d been identified so instantaneously as a Veela. “Oh! Oh, no, that’s not what I—”

But Dani ignored Piper’s protests in favor of willfully chattering on, not letting any of them get a word in edgewise until she’d finished speaking and all of their heads were spinning.

Or, at least, Piper’s was; she could certainly feel the young woman’s energy, which meant the bass player wasn’t Veelan. And Dani was a Being, to be sure, but—try as she might, Piper couldn’t place the energy. It was…lulling, almost. Hypnotic, in a way that drew Piper’s attention, sparkling and distracting—but then seemed to distort, feeling eerie and somehow not-quite-right, the longer she focused on it.

Shosh, who’d been staring at Piper impatient and expectantly, gave an audible, annoyed huff and a roll of her eyes before interjecting herself, “Please—you literally just listed all the reasons why we do need a proper bassist, and we all know what negging is, so why don’t we play this straight—we want you because you’ve got talent, and it’s being wasted playing with other bands who clearly don’t appreciate what you can do. And you’re undervaluing yourself if you limit your art to freelancing and YouTube—I mean, do you really want to be a sewer vlogger your whole life? Don’t you want something more?”

Piper brushed her fingers over her temple, sighing; a little brusque, maybe, but the keyboardist wasn’t wrong. She gestured a hand through the air, and in a gentler tone than her young client, Piper added, “We’re not trying to ‘shark’ you, or imply that all bassists are interchangeable—quite the opposite, really. If you’re happy here, doing what you’re doing, then far be it for any of us to interfere, but…I believe that you have something very special, Dani. And I think you’d be a great fit for this band. All we’re offering here is…an opportunity. To be a part of something great…” She looked at each of the band members in turn, pride and affection shining in her eyes, before looking back at Dani. “…but if it’s not for you, we’re not here to force you. Perhaps you’d be willing to just—give it a try?”

...

...

"Neggin'?" Dani questioned, tilting her head to the side offering her own lopsided smile. Sometime she gave people as Delilah lovingly called it 'The Ick' with her smiles and Val often poked her to remind her to blink sometimes. "Now settle in there sweetheart, I'm not saying anything but the truth and what the critics are gonna say once they get over all your dashing good looks."

Dani was being hiried, that was for damn sure. They could dress it up all kumbayah for band comraderie and everything but Dani knew a hiring when she saw one. Talent got snapped up down here, for the record labels, for the backtracks, for playing chords while the lead singer could play an unplugged guitar, hit all the notes and look gorgeous for the groupies beneath their feet. They got a paycheck, names on records, royalties and a cushy slot for the next spot in the band.

Dani, was getting a bit too old to play at the sparky for-hire bassist without representation. Dani, was getting a bit too familiar on the TikTok and Youtube, and the Ministry wasn't going to play nice when they send one of their Muggle Affairs Aurors down for a 'chat', if they can find her, about the Statue of Secrecy. Dani, was getting far too old to not have a contract with a band or label or something other than the Mersey to fall back on not without whispers.

"Biggest I've ever hoped for is an 11pm Solo Slot at Staligmite," Dani offered with a huff, "not much for us sewer kids outside of the Den," her hands found the brick, thumbinh it gently, feeling moss grow and cover her thumbnail as if to hug her back, "most of us are here cause up there," she nodded to a skylight a few feet away from there, "they can't handle us or don't want to. We don't dream too far beyond these tunnels." There wasn't any point to it, Dani was fae - half of one at least. That half was too strong that her parents didn't even send her to Hogwarts. Strong enough to startle vampires, veelas and wolves. Strong enough that even her Mum couldn't meet her eyes some days.

But still... someone great. Wasn't that what her parents always told her to be? Someone she believed was great. Didn't matter if she became a cat burglar like her Mum, a bartender like Da or a shoe shiner as long as she was proud of it.

If she dreamed of a sky above her that was blue instead of mottled grey then wasn't she allowed that freedom which was given to her by her mere existence?

"Play a song with me," Dani offered finally, her ruminations laying heavy on her brain, unknowing that she was still looking unblinking at the assortment of Kraken Kids, unknowing that the moss was growing over her wrist, unknowing she'd stood unmoving in the same spot. Then all at once came back to startling life, breaking from the wall, a breathing statue as she fingered her bass in a low moody riff. "Play a song with me and we'll see where we stand, music shows truth doesn't it, reveals everything. Maybe it'll tell me if this is the wrong or right direction. I always find my way."

Dani could never get lost, it was in her blood.

Stalagmite was the best of the many Den venues, with clean bathrooms and clean water; sound was good, the place safe if you ignored the jutting rocks coming up from the floor. The Clinic hated Stalagmite and the rotating crowd surfers who came out of the shows with with puncture wounds from getting dropped wrong onto the jutting rocks. Dani had scars from her own days in the crowd. But now her view consisted of screaming fans, heavy bass riffs, and her name being chanted back at her.

Last song, she had to make it count. The Terrified Jones paid her fifteen galleons to do a cover job, she had two days to learn the material and announce her joining the band for a few shows. Guest player.

Dani winked at Val just in front of the barricade, arms enclosing the little Veela the were-jag called an annoyance currently dancing her ass off to The Terrified Jones lead singer, whose voice was cracking every time he tried to hit a new note. The smoke was intense on stage, the stage lights flashing piss yellow and neon purple - the band's atrocious choice. But the money, the stage, and cheers as the band walked off and Dani heard her name being yelled. Well, it felt better than whatever shit emo rock band from Belfast could pay her.

Dani went straight for the bar, bass slung low on her hips and the bartender immediately started throwing together a triple gin and honey mix. The fae felt eyes on her and turned to the small group hovering and whispering.

Flashing her most coy smile, Dani ran her fingers through her sweaty tumble of hair - "Need an autograph, or maybe a photo eh? Admiring my good looks are we?" Dani flipped the bartender a half sickle and took her drinks, "Hope y'all enjoyed the show and everything; merch is to the back. Unless of 'course ya want something else from me. Which is fortunate for you all as I do groups, but you'll need to provide the space."

[katsu28]

a pogue christmas

pairing: JJ Maybank x Pogue!reader

summary: While trekking across the island to pick up JJ’s gift, Y/N runs into a few bumps in the road, and JJ is not happy about it

warnings: mentions of blood and cuts, light swearing

(gif found on google, credits to owner)

There were two kinds of Christmas in the Outer Banks.

There was a Kook Christmas, where Figure 8 families got trees imported from the mainland and adorned their gigantic mansions with enough lights that you could see the multicolor haze all the way from the Cut.

Then there was a Pogue Christmas, where people had to pick up extra shifts of work just to be able to afford gifts for their friends and families.

You'd always had the latter.

It was Christmas Eve, and you’d just gotten off a grueling double shift at work. All you really wanted to do was get to the Chateau and get drunk on spiked eggnog with your friends, but you still had to pick up JJ’s gift from the jeweler’s shop across town.

You’d gotten him a custom silver ring with your initials and anniversary date etched onto the inside for him to add to his ever growing collection, and even though it had cost you a month’s paycheck, JJ was worth it. This past year with him had been one of the happiest of your life, all because JJ was in it. You wanted to show him how much you loved and appreciated him, because although you always told him that you did, you wanted him to have a permanent reminder of it even when you weren’t around.

All was well until you were on the way to the Chateau from the jeweler’s. A car full of drunk Kooks thought it would be funny to play a game of ‘run the Pogue off the road’, which resulted in you flying over the handlebars of your bike into some prickly brush and them speeding off cackling like maniacs.

“Assholes.” You grumbled, fishing your backpack out of the weeds and dusting it free of burrs. Luckily, you’d managed to twist in mid-air so your ass took the brunt of your fall, but your palms were pretty cut up and there was a nasty gash running the length of most of your leg. Patting your shorts pocket, you breathed out a sigh of relief when you felt JJ’s ring still tucked inside.

It took you twice as long to get to the Chateau than it should’ve, and when you got there, you saw that everyone else was sitting around the fire laughing.

Everyone except JJ, whose previously sullen eyes brightened when he caught sight of you rolling in, a smile spreading across his face as he bounded towards you with a beer sloshing around in his hand. He skidded to a stop, however, when he saw the state you were in.

“What the fuck happened?” He asked incredulously, tossing the can aside as he took in your dirt streaked clothes and bloodied scratches. “Who did this to you?”

“It’s nothing, JJ, just some drunk Kooks being assholes.” You waved him off, hopping off your bike gingerly. His posture went rigid almost immediately at your words.

“Kooks? What were you even doing on that side of town? Is that why you’re late?” JJ peppered question after question at you, not even waiting for an answer before turning around to storm back to the group. “Yo, John B, pack it up, we’re gonna go kick some Kook ass—”

“Ignore him, John B! We’re all good here!” You interrupted, waving the other boy off before grabbing JJ’s hand and tugging him back to face you. “JJ, I’m fine, okay? You don’t need to go picking a fight with a bunch of Kooks.”

“But they hurt you.”

“No, they honked at me and I fell off my bike.” You lied, trying to be as convincing as possible, because you honestly weren’t in the mood for JJ to go on a rampage right now. “But I’m fine, I promise. They were just being stupid and I just so happened to be there. Nothing new.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive, babe.” JJ pressed his lips together into a thin line at your words but nodded curtly.

“What were you doing around there anyways?” He asked, tilting his head at you. “That’s literally nowhere near your work.” You bit your lip, debating on whether or not you wanted to give JJ his gift right now for a few seconds before deciding.

“I was picking up your gift.” You sighed, digging into your pocket and pressing the heavy ring into your boyfriend’s palm. “Merry Christmas, J.” JJ stared wide eyed at the ring in his hand for the longest time, turning it around in his fingers gently as if he was afraid he was going to break it. “Do you…like it?”

“Like it? Sweetheart, I love it,” He blurted, meeting your hopeful smile with his own giddy one while he slid it onto his right index finger. “I hate that it’s the reason you got jumped though. Are you okay?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“All right, tough girl,” He snorted, carefully slinging his arm around your shoulder. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

“I just wanna get drunk, J.” You whined, ducking out from under his arm with a pout. He frowned.

“Oh baby, we’re getting hammered tonight, for sure. Just let me clean your cuts so they don’t get infected, yeah?”

“You’ll be quick?”

“Quicker than lightning, my love.” He assured you, holding his hand out for you to take, which you did with a huff, dragging your feet as he pulled you towards the house and into the bathroom.

“Y’know, usually I’m the one cleaning you up.” You observed, wincing at the sting of the cold water running over your hands. “This is a nice change.”

“Y/N, having to clean blood off your hands is not nice.”

“Okay not nice, I meant different.”

“That’s a better word for it. Though I hope I never have to do this again, and I know you do too because I know that you hate the smell of rubbing alcohol.” JJ was still bent over working on your hands, but it was like he could see the sour expression on your face at said smell.

Minutes later, JJ was done patching you up, pressing light kisses to the bandages on your wounds before the two of you made your way back out to the rest of the Pogues. You flopped into JJ’s old seat with a huff, letting him settle in on the ground between your legs comfortably. His hands immediately came to curl around your calves, carefully avoiding the scratch he’d just fixed up. The silver of his new ring was cool against your leg as he tapped his fingers absentmindedly, and you were beyond happy that JJ liked your gift.

John B tossed JJ another beer, while Sarah handed you a cup of what she claimed was an old family recipe for eggnog, which really just had a tiny hint of the traditional holiday drink with shit ton of rum that she’d snuck from her dad’s stash. Just what you needed.

“Okay, be our tie-breaker, Y/N,” Kie exclaimed, pointing at you with her own cup of eggnog. “Is a hot dog a sandwich, yes or no? Pope keeps saying it isn’t, but it totally is!”

“That’s because it’s literally not!” Pope groaned, shaking his head so hard that his hat almost flew off. “A sandwich has two pieces of bread with stuff in between, but a hot dog—” You tuned out the rest of Pope’s rant, looking around at all your friends lovingly and feeling a surge of gratitude burst in your chest.

This was what Christmas was about. Spending time with your loved ones, even though they were dumb and argued about the stupidest things. These were your best friends—your family—and you wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.

Taglist!

@pogueslandia