#I’m tellin y’all the struggle was REAL

[artificialcaretaker]

Miscellaneous doodles from the other night, still tryna figure out designs lmao.

[princessbrunette]

jj is so funny because he doesn’t even pick up on half the looks you’re giving him.

he’s always oblivious for a little while, tugging you around with him on a pogue mission only a few hours after he made you cream on his dick so hard you cried. you’re quiet, uncharacteristically so — not even intervening like you usually would when he pipes up with a dumb idea. you physically can’t. you can’t see any of his faults like this, only latching on harder to his charisma and the way he can command the groups attention at the drop of a hat.

you’ll take any excuse to touch him, giving him the big doe eyes as you cling to his bicep listening to him ramble. “look, i’m tellin’ you guys — it’s a solid idea. we got nothin’ else so i suggest y’all listen to me, honestly.” he clucks in that slightly southern accent that makes your tummy get warm. john b sighs, turning his attention to you.

“you allowing this?” he asks and you simply nod, unable to offer anything but a hazy smile.

when arriving to the abandoned building you were meant to be investigating, you get separated for a little bit — much to your devastation. you wait outside on look out with kie and sarah, whilst the boys check out the inside. jj flips a torch in his hand, chipper as ever as he strolls through the building, looking around.

his two friends eye eachother before speaking up.

“so, uh… jayj, i hate to be the one to tell you that you’re totally blind, but i think your little fangirl out there has been craving a little something from you.” john b arrives at his side, addressing the elephant in the room that the blonde seemed unaware of.

“what are you yappin’ about, dude?” jj is distracted, lifting a cover off some old tools lying around on the floor, making a mental note of how they might help them in a jam.

“your girlfriend looks like she’s constantly about to jump your bones.” pope calls bluntly from behind, a few strides back. jj’s attention is captured and he blinks at the two boys who stare at him with knowing smiles. he glances between the two of them before shaking his head.

“oh, nah — gave it to her real good this morning. had her cryin’ on it n’shit. ain’t no way she’s goin’ again, atleast until tomorrow.” he converses casually as they continue down the creaky path. john b and pope look at eachother with clear realisation on their faces, and the brunette slaps his shoulder.

“so that’s what that face is about… okay. she’s uh… dickmatised, man.” he presses his lips together in a smug smile and jj raises an eyebrow.

“cant just make up words, dude. its not fair. some of us struggle with regular words let alone that bullshit.”

“look, all we’re saying is we are proud of you jj. you’ve clearly been putting in the work.” pope teases making john b chuckle, nudging his arm against your boyfriends.

“y’all are so weird. but yes, for a matter of fact, i have.”

once reunited with you, he can’t hold back his own smirk, tonguing at the healing cut on his lip at the way you agree with just about anything he says, constantly reaching to run your hands along his skin. he finds fun in teasing you, purposely flustering you because he can, turning his whole body to face you and imposing in your space.

“damn, lil’ bitta’ dick and you get shy on me? thats actually very cute. i’m flattered.”

maybe you could go again, after all.

[ask-chef-teruteru]

i have generalized anxiety disorder and most times it’s really hard to believe the things people tell me. typically when im doubting things and people reassure me. do you have any advice? i try to stay optimistic,

“My apologies, hon, I just wanna be on the same page here— do y’all mean doubtin’ things in terms o’ self doubts, or somethin’ else? Is there somethin’ specific y’all tend t’ need reassurances on?

I ain’t no expert, I don’t got a formal diagnosis or nothin’ like that, but it’s fair to say I struggle a lil’ bit with anxiety sometimes too, so I s’pose I can tell y’all some things that work for me?

Used to be worse when I was younger— ‘fore I won a few competitions, got my ultimate title— back when the diner was strugglin’ financially n’ it felt like everything was goin’ wrong all the time all at once. Would get myself all in a tizzy, would start off worryin’ over one lil’ thing that’d snowball into another thing n’ another n’ another ‘til pretty soon I was a mess n’ needed help calmin’ down.

'I wasn’t feelin’ too confident on that last dish, it didn’t look as pretty as it did last time I made it. What if it didn’t look right cause I made it wrong? What if it was burnt or I forgot an ingredient or it was underdone? What if the person who ordered it’s a renowned critic n’ I blew our chances o’ ever doin’ any better? What if that critic doesn’t like the food cause I screwed up and writes an awful review and nobody ever comes back? How will we live? The diner’ll go under if we don’t get no customers, we won’t have no money to live, Mama won’t have no more money for medicine, what if Mama gets worse? What if we lose the diner’n that stress gets t’be too much for her? What if she hates me for it? It would be all my fault!'

I’m panickin’ picturin’ myself livin’ on the street n’ Mama in an early grave n’ hatin’ me with her last breath, n’ ain’t nothin’ ever even happened, mind you. Weren’t no complaints ‘bout the food, opposite in fact, n’ me worryin’ myself sick didn’t do no good.

O’course sometimes things do happen that don’t go good, but anxiety makes mountains o’ mole hills. Situations where y’all got the time to worry ‘bout somethin’ bad happenin’ ain’t usually gonna end with the worst possible outcome. Really though, even the times when it feels like things couldn’t get no worse, life still goes on. Always sounds like an eye roller of a thing t’ say, but it’s true. If ya screw something up for real n’ it ain’t all just nerves, things won’t always be just as bleak’s they feel at that exact moment. It’s hard to get outta your own head, but y’all really gotta try to take a step back, try to rationalize, think about it from somebody else’s perspective.

Next time you’re feelin’ anxious ‘bout somethin’ y’all did, try thinkin’ ‘bout how you’d feel if somebody else had done it. If Mama’d made a dish that weren’t good n’ we got a bad review from somebody important n’ it meant financial ruin, I still wouldn’t have started hatin’ her or worryin’ ‘bout how to go on— it woulda just been a bad thing that happened that we’d learn t’ live with, y’know?

Ya gotta not be your own worst critic n’ gotta not assume people’re just tellin’ y’all sweet lies when they’re try’na reassure y’all. A lot o’ things you’re anxious about aren’t gonna cross other people’s minds ever again. That time y’all answered a question wrong n’ only realized it once the person walked off n’ there was no good opportunity to correct yourself? Moment’s passed, that person would probably just go 'oh okay' if y’all told them later. Ever waved at somebody cause you thought they was wavin’ at you but they were actually wavin’ at somebody behind you? Now that person just thinks you’re friendly cause you’d wave back if they waved at ‘em first.”

“I feel like I’ve gone on a while now and I don’t actually know how on the mark I am with any o’ that, so please don’t hesitate to talk to me again n’ follow up if I weren’t helpful, so I s’pose I’ll leave it at that for now. I hope I’ll hear from y’all soon!”

[thewombynist]

They’ve Been Lying to us, y’all.

January is not the marker of a new year.

How do I know?

Every day the dark comes to greet me at 4pm It’s cold af! [Somebody grab me a blanket] My bank account is lookin’ like somebody turned my purse upside down The grass is brown and the leaves are…deceased

What I’m saying is…if you’re struggling to feel “new-year-new-me”, you’re not the problem, stink. The winter months are signaling our mind and body to slow tf down . But the way we’ve been conditioned [and colonized]; a lot of us feel guilty for not feeling motivated or “charged up”. We’re not judging you over here, sis. It’s a tough time for a lot of folks!

I’ve been trying to find words, since I launched.

But I just haven’t had it. My mind has been blanking, creatively, and my body’s been tellin’ me to sit.tf.down. I used to be a fighter, y’all [don’t look too deep into this lol]. Ignoring what my body was telling me. When really she’s the one that knows. She’s the reminder that winter is a time for the pleasures of solitude, of dreaming, to be uncertain— to rest and restore. Without shame.

I’ve been retreating at my mama’s house all month, and I’ve had time to contemplate…to think…about what I want for myself in the coming months. I’ve been wrapping myself up in silence [perfect for my neurospicy brain]. I’ve been watching movies, binging Love on the Spectrum [it’s on Netflix + I highly recommend] lol. I’ve been reminded that I actually enjoy cooking! Until recently, I’ve felt like it was a “burden”. I’ve actually been making progress reading my book, Signs & Skymates [another recommendation for my aspiring-astrology girlies]! Y’all, I’ve been napping like a mf, without guilt lol.

I’ve been reminded.

Of who I am, or that I’m getting to know who I am right now, and that’s just fine. That I deserve to recover. Of the year I’ve had— January has been a gift of reflection. A space-maker for curiosity and thoughtfulness. I’ve been reminded that I don’t have to know anything at all right now. But I get to practice presence. I get to just, be.

Plus, Nature is the real truth-teller! Sis said, “the days are shorter + the nights are longer”…the signs be right in our face! That alone tells me that we need to be layin’ tf down lol. Springtime is the true New Year, shoutout to Aries SZN! The grass finds it’s vibrant green. The Sun begins to make an appearance, again. The plants and flowers begin to bloom… these are the signs of new, of rebirth. This is what we should align with.

A Winter-time affirmation: Thank you January. Thank you, body. Thank you, solitude, and warm tea and fuzzy socks. Thank you nap time! *Inhale here* lol.

I hope this encourages you to get comfortable with exactly where you are right now. I hope you’re being nice to yourself on the days that the boxes on your to-do list ain’t gettin’ checked. I hope you say, “it’ll get done, in time”. I hope you’re honoring your nervous system. I hope you’re drinking warm teas and eating cozy foods. I hope you celebrate your slow-progress. I hope you honor that nap. I hope you know you are worthy.

Now I know we all have shit to do, I’m just saying, your approach might look a little different right now, and that’s okay.

How can you be gentler with yourself at this time? How can you slow down?

[yoongiblunt]

I really got my job and some lil hoes from my job running around trashing me every other direction and I’m so Fuckin burned out it’s unreal.

I’m more upset about the personal bit than setting fired. I can handle that.

But me saying someone caused my relapse?

Me saying I was having this sexual relationship with my friends that wasn’t happening?

I can understand how the second one could have gotten melded into truth, I do. There were a lot of jokes made, but I’ve made those with the couple in mind and with them present. It was never disrespectful, or not by intention. So that really fucking bugs me that it got so far out of what I could control that it’s circling around this way.

But the first one is blatantly untrue and it’s an awful thing for anyone to be told. I hate that it’s something someone believes I said. Because I would never want something that damaging said about someone to be something that came from my mouth. We discussed all of the factors of using again together with each other, it was a really good night. One that I hold with a lot of care in my memory, and I even thanked my friend and tried to make sure he knew how much I appreciated him. He even got me an Uber home.

I hate that someone tarnished that memory. It didn’t deserve to go sour. I’ve never blamed anyone for my using coke. I’ve never once said it was his fault I relapsed. I never said that. And I can’t even defend myself. I can’t even work out how that got said.

Right now I’m dealing with my job lying about me, and if I sit here and publicly call these lies too, I just look like someone who can’t take accountability.

I am accountable for the jokes about our sex life, one hundred percent. I made the mistake of letting those jokes fall on the untrained ear, I’ve made the mistake of tellin them in ways where they’ve sounded like truths. Calling them my boyfriend and girlfriend for the bit was funny to me. It was all a bit, none of it was real. I thought people knew that. I didn’t think it would get twisted up like this. We have always had a fun flirty friendship, nothing sexual. Nothing real like that. It was just goofing around, I know that. So it’s difficult to be projected like I don’t.

The drugs part just makes me angry for them. How dare someone say something so hateful to them. Because that’s not just about hurting me, I can take my character being attacked. I can take being made to look like a creep or whatever. What I can’t take is y’all damaging two very decent people for the sake of spilling some tea. They don’t deserve to hear that someone they called a friend said they forced them to use drugs.

He was working on his sobriety. We had amazing talks about our use of drugs and our struggles with them. This narrative totally shits on all of that trust and care we built. And for what purpose? What did either of them do to deserve someone telling them something so fucking mean?

If you’re gonna go after someone, just go after me.

And I’m sure I know who said it.

They guilted me when I wouldn’t text him to get us coke when we were out. Said that I had just relapsed days before why was I so high and mighty.

I said I’m not, you can get coke from literally anyone, I’m not texting him when he’s home, not out with us, and interrupting his time with drugs he expressed wanting to use less of. They fucking threw their hands in my face and then started having a panic attack.

Then they went thru my room when I got home looking for coke.

So I know what that intention was. I know why they did that.

They were also mad at me for making it hard for them to get at him. I listened to them all night talk about finding a way to get him home, and I joked I had been sowing those seeds for years. It was light hearted. They were immediately catty and trying to be competitive with me all night when him and I were just hanging out and having drinks. They dominated conversations and shut me down over and over.

I feel like I know who said these things, but I’m not sure.

I have an inkling of who would have something against me. They’re angry, I understand, but it’s an awful thing to do to tarnish someone else’s memories with your own pathetic behavior.

I wish I could express to literally anyone the way this feels because it’s not even a little bit fair to them that they have to feel like someone misused their trust like this.

I’m just so sorry them knowing me has made things so hard on them. It isn’t fair. I just want my friends happy. I just want them to feel respected.

I would never say something like this. And I wish I could control this narrative better

Maybe I’m misguided. Maybe I just don’t understand anything at all, I’m not sure what to believe. I know the things I’ve said, and I know I would never say anything like this. This is,,, just out of control really.

I can’t even attempt to fix any of it because I don’t even know how. I don’t know who said it, I don’t know how you fix a lie. I’ve spent my whole year rebuilding the person I was, trying to grow and learn how to better handle hard situations so that I could be this better person. But it really turns out im not a better person. Im just as hopelessly confused about everything as I’ve ever been, and im worried that this is the way people will see me now.

Im not even really worried about other people, im moreso worried about them. I have a lot of good memories with them. I don’t want those to go away or hurt when I remember them. I don’t want THIS to be what my brain remembers, I don’t want THIS to be what comes up when they think of me. It isn’t fair that other people get to have so much control over you, your words, and how others see you. Because the person that was described to me was someone I didn’t like. And it’s worse because I know I didn’t say those things. So what am I even supposed to do?

How do you apologize to someone for something you didn’t do and how do you give them proper closure when you didn’t mean to cause this damage?

I just wanna do the right thing.

[enchantinglyjade]

Milk & Honey - Ch. 9 (Part 2)

Elvis(Movie) x Black!OC

Masterlist

Previous | Next

Summary: In which Honey makes her decision

Warning: NSFW 18+, fingering, oral (f. receiving), racial issues, physical abuse, violence, brief mentions of a panic/anxiety attack

-

“So, you’re coming with?”

I pause, throat tightening with reluctance to answer. “I’m still thinking.”

I don’t speak for the rest of the car ride, not a word said between us. Am I going? I don’t have much time left to think about it.

Michael stops the car, putting it into park across the street from the club. He leans back into his seat with a sigh, a sudden grim look on his face. “Honey, what’s going on between you and I?”

My heart stops. Shit. “What do you mean?”

He throws his head back against the leather cushion. “I’m not as stupid as you think I am. I know you don’t wanna be with me. My band told me what happened the other night. I tried acting like everything was fine, cause I didn’t wanna believe my own best friend would do all that behind my back, but after seein’ you tonight, I know they were tellin’ the truth.”

Oh my god. How much did he actually see?

I can’t think of any valid excuse, my mouth going dry and my heart breaking at his saddened face. “Michael, I’m so sorry. Everything became so complicated and I never meant to hurt you in the process. You don’t deserve to go through all this.”

He bites his cheek, shaking his head in disappointment. “I trusted you, Honey. I thought you were better than this.”

I reach my hand out for his. “I swear I never meant for things to get so out of hand. I just wanted to have everything figured out, but I didn’t know what I wanted and I kept telling myself to want you, but- I just- I never really saw you as my type, I guess.” I cringe immediately as the words leave my mouth. Way to be brutally honest, Honey.

Now his whole facial expression changes. He sits up, glaring over to me sternly with a new found anger flaring up in his eyes. “Oh? And just what is your type, huh? White boys?”

My brows furrow together, taken aback by his response. His words are overstepping multiple line no matter how long I’ve known him and I definitely don’t like his tone either. “And what does it matter to you?” I ask, voice dripping in irritation.

He scoffs loudly. “What’s it matter to me?! You think I ain’t noticed how you colored girls act around Elvis? He ain’t even half the man I am, but y’all don’t give a damn. He gets on stage, sings out songs, does our dances, and y'all cream in your seats.” I gasp, disgusted at his sudden vulgarness, but he only continues. “It matters that these string bean white boys are taking away our finest women like they own them.”

I sneer at his last comment. “You don’t own us either!” I step out of his car in a fit of rage. “And what us ‘colored women’ find pleasure in is not my fault and clearly nothing you’re able to provide for us!” I slam the door to put all the more attitude into my last statement, then stomp my way down the sidewalk. I can’t even stand to look at him anymore.

“God dammit,” he mumbles from behind me, jumping out of the car as well. “Somethin’ gotta be wrong when your own kind starts defending whites like that. I knew you weren’t enough of a sister!”

I stop dead in my tracks. There it is. He’s using my biggest insecurity against me and he knows it. He knows it! That sentence alone is enough to trigger my fight mentality instantly.

I spin around, marching right up to him. “You are the last person I need permission to be black from. You think the color of my daddy makes me any less black to these cops out here? Hmm? They don’t care how dark, as long as it’s darker than them, so quit actin’ like I don’t understand real struggle. I have my own set of problems that you could never comprehend, because at the end of the day, under all that black skin, you’re still a man. And I defend him because I love him!”

His eyes widen, a smile finding my words entertaining. “Oh? So, you in love now, huh? Is that what this is? Love?” His voice drops tauntingly low and quiet toned. “That boy don’t want nothin’ but a little tail before he leaves you behind like all them other girls.”

Without thinking, i slap him across the face, not feeling even the slightest amount of regret in my actions. “Elvis is more of a man than you’ll ever be.” I could spit on him, I feel so lost in my hatred right now.

But he reacts quickly, pushing me against the wall of the nearby building by my throat. “After everything I did for you, you still choose that bastard. I gave you a start. You’d be nothing without me.”

I push and kick him until he stumbles backwards. I take a second to catch my breath, holding my beating chest in shock while he straightens himself out.

“You’ll regret not coming with me.” He threatens.

I huff, having nothing left to say to him, then turn to walk towards the club and hoping he doesn’t follow.

Once in the private stairwell of the building, I quickly scramble upstairs to the hotel area, not wanting to be anywhere near others right now. I lean against the wall and slide down it, still catching my breath.

I let my legs out of my dress, kicking off my heels as well to run my feet along the soft carpet, suddenly feeling suffocated in my own skin. I listen to the sound of the music downstairs, trying to ground myself in its rhythms and ignore the stinging in my eyes.

“-that gold dress. Can you imagine how much RCA would pay for her?”

“I’d have enough to get a Cadillac for each one of my bitches.”

A roll of laughter comes from downstairs, before disappearing into the club, leaving me with an uneasy feeling. I play with the hem of my gold dress in utter shame.

I got so caught up in recording a song with him that I never thought about him using me right back. He never seemed like that type of person growing up. I know the things I’ve been doing to Micahel are wrong, but I haven’t been doing them completely heartlessly. I really did try to convince myself to give my all to him and leave Elvis behind. I’ve known Michael the longest, longer than Elvis.  Even if we didn’t have the same chemistry Elvis and I had, I still trusted him and he used that against me. We shared toys as babies. He was there for me when I was heartbroken over Elvis twice now. He’s always been there. Even without romantic attraction, he was still a friend, and the little girl inside of me feels betrayed knowing my childhood friend saw me only as a means to pay his bills and feed his ego. I really am naive, aren’t I?

“E.P.! You made it out alive!”

“You know I always do, baby.”

All previous fear drains out of my body the second I hear the sound of his voice. My heart thumps, feeling airy in my chest. He’s okay. I crawl to the edge of the hallway to peer around the corner, feeling it’s too good to be true.

King’s about to lead him inside the club.

“Elvis!” I call out for him from my spot on the floor.

He stops just before the door, squinting around in a confused way to find the location of my voice. Upon seeing me, his appearance changes entirely to that of concern despite my obvious happiness.

He instantly races up the stairs towards me, racing out to help me off the ground. “Honey? Are you alright? What happened?”

Without thinking, I instinctively wrap my around around him. “God, I thought they’d lock you up. I’m so glad you’re here.” My heart beats madly against his chest while I hold him in fear of ever letting go again.

He chuckles against my hair, rubbing my back with his large hands that I’ve missed the feel of so very much. “Colonel’s holdin’ ‘em off for me. What are you doing up here alone?”

I don’t respond, only keeping myself buried in his neck.

He pushes his neck back to try and observe my face as best as he can, When he realizes I have no intentions of pulling away, he tilts my head up with his hand, so he can see me. “Hey.” He says softly. “What happened, darlin’?”

I nuzzle my cheek into his hand, feeling tears want to build up just from the gentleness in the way he speaks to me, especially when compared to Michael only a few minutes ago. “Nothin’, okay? I’m just sorry for actin’ like such a fool lately. You were right about everything and I don’t wanna be scared anymore because I love you. I always have and I’m tired of running from that. I wanna be with you and I don’t care what everyone’s gotta say anymore, as long as I know I have you.”

His lips grow into a wide grin. “So… no Chicago?”

I giggle, shaking my head no. “No Chicago. I’m not going anywhere, baby. Do you forgive me?” I give him my best puppy dog eyes.

He chuckles. “You know I can’t hold a grudge against you. You were always my weak spot.”

I smile before leaning up to meet him halfway for a gentle kiss. His hands travel in opposite directions behind me, one down the small of my back, the other between my shoulder blades, but both bring me in closer. I caress the sides of his face, reaching to rest my hand on the back of his neck, so I can pull him in for a deeper kiss.

He hums against my lips. “Let me take you home, darlin’.”

I kiss from his lips down to his neck. “There’s a hotel right here.” I offer, not wanting to wait any longer than I already have been.

He chuckles, tilting his head away from my touches. “I ain’t mean it like that. It’s been a long day for the both of us, I should get you home.”

“Well, I do mean it like that and I need you,” I whisper into his ear. I pull away to see his reaction and bite my lip when I do.

He looks at me with danger in his eye, and it only takes a few seconds of meeting my gaze for him to make his decision. “Which room?”

My smiles grows and I lead him to a room I remembered being available. Luckily, it’s unlocked because I didn’t bring my work keys with me and I’m definitely not scavenging around to find them now. I check to make sure the hall is empty before sneaking him inside the room. My hands shake with eagerness, fumbling with the lock. When I finally manage to get it, I turn around to face Elvis.

He stalks closer to me, his eyes like bullets and I’m the target. I press myself against the back of the door, anticipating his next move with a daring smile.

He grabs my waist, pulling me in for another kiss, deeper than any one he’s ever given me. We’ve had our fair share of needy kisses recently, but this one is of pure desperation.

I moan, realizing this is the first time we’ve been able to kiss in private and thoroughly enjoying being able to do so without watchers and judges. I sink into him, letting myself completely succumb to what my heart has been wanting to do since day one.

We spin around so I can fall flat on the bed, my blonde hair fanning out around me. He leans over me, the smell of vanilla musk drowns my senses, but I could swim in it all day. He kisses his way from my lips down to my chest, leaving a trail of sloppy, wet kisses along my neck.

He moans into one of the kisses. “You still taste like that bubbly.”

I let out a breathy laugh. “All thanks to you.” I go silent for a second before quickly and shamefully adding, “I liked it.”

He chuckles into my chest. “I know you did, baby.” He presses a hard kiss between the dip of my breasts, groaning into my skin. “You look good when you’re all wet like that, baby. God, you looked so sexy out there; drinkin’ from that bottle, no questions asked.” He bites down at the dip where my left breast meets my sternum, causing me to yelp out which he only smiles at.

“I can’t believe you licked the bottle in front of everyone.” I say semi-embarrassed, squeezing my eyes shut.

He reaches behind my back, grabbing at my dress zipper. “I’m not ashamed to show everyone you’re my girl.”

I smile at the gratification his words bring me. I’m finally his girl.

I arch my back in the air, so he can unzip me. Once done, he carefully removes each strap from my shoulders, one at a time, before standing up to slowly pull my dress down my body, taking my underwear with it and tossing both onto the floor.

I cross my legs, shyly hiding what I can of myself. The blue in his eyes disappear and his face slips into that of hunger. He runs his hands up the sides of my body, stalking closer to me.

Honestly, I have no idea what to do or expect. Sure, I’m not clueless, but most of what I’ve learned came from eavesdropping. Of course, Vickie has unfortunately told me ungodly amounts of her own experiences, though I have doubts most are true. At this moment, all I can do is trust him and my instincts.

On another note, I can’t even begin to explain how illegal every little thing we’ve done today is. Both of us know if someone outside saw us like this, we’d get arrested for at least four different reasons, but somehow the forbiddenness of it all only makes it that much more exhilarating. 

Gently, he takes my leg and eases it away from the other, exposing all of me to his waiting eyes. He takes a deep breath, then check back up at me. Once he knows I have no intentions of stopping him, he holds my hips in place, using the other hand to slide up and down my inner thigh, but never touching where I need him most.

“You don’t know how long I been wantin’ to do this to you, darlin’. How long I wanted to make you feel good.” His thumb grazes less than an inch from my core before pulling away, rubbing up towards my knee again.

“Elvis, please.” I whine out.

“What, baby?” He asks cluelessly, placing a kiss on my knee. Of course, he’s gonna make me say it. 

“Touch me.”

He backs his face away. “Touch you? I am.” He says innocently. “Where you want me to touch you, baby? Here?” He teases, pointing to my shin. I roll my eyes, shaking my head. “No? How ‘bout here?” His finger reaches down and tickles at the bottom of my foot.

I quickly retract myself away, unsure if I should start laughing at his ridiculousness or crying. “Elvis!” I beg.

He laughs. “Alright, alright, darlin’. Nothin’ to get all worked up about now. I’ll give you what you need. Don’t go worrying that pretty little head of yours one bit.”

He hovers himself above my pelvis, slowly bringing his thumb down to brush against my lower lips, then peering up to see my reaction.

My chest rises and falls in anticipation while I watch his every movement.

He rotates his thumb in circles, watching as my eyes close, and only then adding enough pressure to part me and fully feel my wetness. He groans at the feeling, letting his thumb become coasted as he makes slow rounds against my clit.

My body shutters, and before I know it, he inserts a finger inside of me. I gasp at the feeling, instantly tightening around the digit, my body extremely sensitive from never having been touched by another. I had expected it to be painful, but instead I crave more.

He slides a second into me and I about lose my mind. He holds them there, feeling my walls clench around him in need. I close my eyes, feeling out of breath without actually having moved. He stays like that, I assume to help me get used to the feeling, but I already grow impatient and start lifting my hips up and down against his hand.

He bites his lip, trying to hide just how crazy it drives him to watch me do this. He holds his free hand against my hip to stop my movements and speed his own.

“Tell me how it feels, baby.” He pushes himself further up the bed and back to my face, using his knees to further spread my legs, but never removing his hand.

I choke on my words. “It feels so good.”

We lock lips again, sloppy and uncoordinated. He makes slow motions with his hips, grinding himself against my inner thigh to relieve some of his own tension.

I reach my hands up to pull at his hair to try and bring him as close to me as possible. He rests his forehead against mine, staring intensely into my eyes. We heavily breathe onto each other’s lips. “It feel good, baby?”

“Mhm,” I nod, nose brushing against his.

He lowers himself back down, holding his face at my stomach and glaring up at me through his dark lashes. His beautiful, full lips tickle against my skin and his breath glides across my stomach, causing shives to run down my limbs. In the deepest voice he can muster, he asks, “better than Michael ever could?”

I stare down at him in shock, biting at my nail from feeling myself begin to build up desperately. I nod again without any hesitation.

“Yeah?” He confirms.

I throw my head against the pillow, slowly losing my grip on reality at this point.

He wraps his arm around my leg, pulling me closer to him while he starts pumping even faster.

“I don’t ever want you talkin’ to another man again. You’re mine, you hear?”

I thrash my head around, too lost in euphoria to answer. I should be ashamed at how turned on those words get me, and I’ll never tell him just how much they do, but I’m sure the tightening of my walls is enough to let him know.

He looks down between my legs, breathing deeply, hungry for air. He watches his hand get covered in more wetness, hissing at the sight. He instinctively dives down, taking a long, sinful lick at me. 

The texture of his taste buds against that area is such a foreign feeling for me that one lick is all it takes to send me over the edge.

I cry out in pleasure, causing him to dip back down and run his tongue against my clit over and over again, only making my orgasm all the more powerful and mind numbing. I take a few loud, heavy breaths, holding one hand against my vibrating heart and the other in his hair. I don’t even have enough energy to open my eyes yet, I just lie there, trying to catch my breath and bask in the feeling of his fingers still slowly caressing my insides.

“Elvis.” I whine.

“I know, baby. Just let it all out.” He presses a soft kiss onto my quivering let, allowing me to cool down.

When I open my eyes, a tear falls down my face from the overwhelming pleasure I had just experienced. I laugh, hiding my face from embarrassment from getting so excited so easily.

Now he removes his hand from me. “Baby, what is it? Everything okay? I did hurt you, now did I?” He asks, wiping away my tears with his large thumb.

I shake my head with a smile. “It was amazing.” I grab his face, bringing him down for a kiss, which he reciprocates passionately. “I want more.” I whisper, desperately longing to feel something more filling.

He closes his eyes, shaking his head. “Now, darlin’, you know you’re playing a dangerous game. You don’t think we should wait?”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Um… no?” Is he crazy?! I been waiting!

He chuckles. “It’s your first time, baby. I don’t wanna throw too much on you all at once.”

“Elvis,” I whine, trying to reach down to touch him, but he catches my hand.

He shakes his head more vigorously. “Now, I don’t wanna hear it. I’m not lettin’ your first time be in this lousy hotel with that asshole downstairs.” I dramatically sigh, but he only rolls his eyes at me and lies down beside me. “I hope you know I ain’t never wanted to come between you and your singing. I’d never do that to you.”

“I know.” I turn over to face him, reaching out to play with his hand. “And I hope that you know I never for a second had romantic feelings for Michael.”

He groans. “You gotta say his name?” I laugh, burying my head into his chest. He wraps his arms around me, bringing me closer to him and plating a kiss into my hair. “I know.”

I look up at him with gleaming, after glow eyes. His hand leaves my back to cup my face, his thumb running back and forth against my cheek. He smiles, looking back at me as if I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The admiration in his eyes is enough to make my heart skip a beat.

He glosses over my face, taking in every detail: my eyes, my hair, my freckles. I close my eyes, trying to turn away, feeling awfully flustered from his intimate actions.

Just then, his hand stops moving abruptly and I feel him pull away.

My eyes flutter back open to examine him and make sure he’s alright, but he’s just staring at my neck, confused with a growing anger in his eyes.

I sit up, scared and trying to figure out what’s going on. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

He clenches his jaw, not even wanting to say his next words, let alone believe them. “Did he put his hands on you?”

I reach up to rub the spot Michael has his hand on earlier. It must have left I bruise I didn’t know about. “Elvis-”

“Did he?!” He shouts. “Is that why you were on the floor, crying?”

I don’t even have time to answer before he’s already forcing himself up and off of me, muttering curse words under his breath. “I swear to God, I’ll kill that son of a bitch.” He whips open the door and without turning back to look at me he says, “stay right here, baby,” before slamming the door shut.

“Elvis!” I yell out while sloppily slipping my dress back on, not bothering with the straps while I tumble towards the door. Despite his request, I follow after him.

I quickly stomp down the stairs to the club level, looking around for any signs of violence or shouring, but find nothing. Michael still must be outside then. I trample down to the ground level, pushing open the club doors, and sure enough, guess who I find.

By the time I make it out there, Elvis already has Michael pinned against the same building Michael had me on earlier.

“You worthless bastard!” He growls out, pushing Michael onto the ground with a rough shove.

I push past the people outside the club watching the scene to run across the street to them.

“Stop!” I yell, pulling at Elvis’ arm, praying I can pry him off.

Elvis yanks his arm back from me, standing over Michael while breathing heavily. He doesn’t bother turning around to look at me, but I know he’s not happy I’m here.

I look down at Michael’s now visible face to see what damage has been done. His lip bleeds and his cheeks are covered in… tears?

“I spent my whole life tryna be like you, man. Everyone always preferred you, you got more freedoms than me, you got the girl I ain’t never had none of that, and you’re out here paradin’ everything you got like the ungrateful bastard you always been!”

“That don’t give you no right to ever touch Honey like that!” Elvis replies, trying to hold back his anger in front of me.

Michael picks himself off the ground, dusting off his coat. “Shit don’t matter anymore.” He glares over Elvis’ shoulder, lip curling in disgust as his eyes land on me. “Already put your dog hands all over her. What I look like tryna sell spoiled goods?” He adjusts his shirt, turning to walk back to his car.

However, instead of taking offense, I instantly hop in front of Elvis, knowing those words would be enough to set him back off. He tries dodging around me, but I hold him back, which he seems absolutely enraged by. Honestly, I would have fought Michael myself, but we may have bigger issues right now.

“Baby, he doesn’t matter. You already have cops after you, we need to leave.” I say, trying so desperately to get him to drop the situation before something worse happens tonight.

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before deciding in silence that I’m right.

I glare, watching Michael drive away, part of me wishing I had just let Elvis loose on him.

I sigh, placing my hands gently on Elvis’ bruised face. “Baby, are you okay?”

He shakes his head away from my reach, almost like he’s ashamed that I’m comforting him. “Yeah, it’s fine, baby. Come on, I don’t want no one seein’ you like this.” He puts his arm around me, shielding me from the watchers in the Club Handy windows. He pushes people on the streets out of his way on our path back to his car.

He helps me into the car before sitting down in his own seat, slamming the door shut behind him. He turns the car on, gripping the wheel tightly, his jaw doing that thing it does when he gets mad. “I told you to stay in the room.” He reminds me darkly.

I gulp and stay quiet, not wanting to further upset him.

He sighs. “I didn’t do a fine job of protecting you tonight. He never woulda even had the opportunity to reach you had I just stayed with you.”

“Elvis, it’s fine. You were getting arrested. Besides, it’s nothing, I’ve gotten worse bruises from accidentally walking into door frames.” I joke.

He gently smirks, which warms my heart back up, knowing he isn’t all that mad at me.

I lean over to press a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for fighting for me.” But before I pull away, he quickly spins his head to catch my lips in a real kiss.

Now I receive a full smile from him. “What kind of man would I be if I hadn’t?” He pulls out of the spot and drives down the boulevard.

Getting into a car with a white man; why not add one last crime to the list before we call it a night? “Do you have any idea how many crimes you committed tonight? Because I’ve lost count.”

He chuckles. “I been breakin’ the segregation laws since the day I was born, baby, and I don’t plan on stoppin’ no time soon.” He places one hand on my thigh, gently massaging it with his thumb.

I clench my thighs together at the feeling. God, I can’t believe I wasted all this time with Michael when I could’ve been getting all this.

We pull up in front of my house, both of us disappointed that this night is finally coming to an end.

He reaches over, pulling my face in for yet another kiss. It’s gonna take me a long time to get over the feeling of his lips, cause I’ve been waiting too long to touch them like this.

“Don’t miss me too much.” He whispers against my lips.

I gently bite his bottom lip at his teasing, before exiting the car. He watches me walk up to my home with a smile, not driving away until he sees me enter the house.

I close the door behind me, smiling like a mad man. What a ridiculous night, but I’d sure do it all over again if I had the chance. I can’t even comprehend everything that’s happened, it all feels too good to be true. Finally, I’m getting everything I ever wanted.

“You got some nerve comin’ back home tonight.”

.

.

.

- Tag List -

@tearupmyhead @chouetteschaussettes @il-giardino @theliterarybeldam @re3kin @anangelwhodidntfall @felicityroth @crash-and-cure @mama-pankow @tzillas @wonderlandlovelove @mirandastuckinthe80s @queenslandlover-93 @coconutessential @pumkiinpasties @buckybarnesbitch00000000 @biafbunny @darkestbeforethedawn16 @dollfaceyourfear @adoreyouusugar @hails-schae @spacegh0ul @im-lame-irl 

[amtwst-tls]

Scary outfit Jade Personal Story Translation Part 2

Jade Scary Outfit Part 2

Would you please teach me?

Where the 2nd years all talk about the Halloween traditions back at their places.

Classroom

Jade: Would you mind teaching me about the many different ways you all celebrate Halloween?

Riddle: ...Halloween, huh.

Riddle: In my hometown, typically young children would gather in the plaza and hold a 'Fun Party.'

Jamil: Why do you sound so detached?

Riddle: That's because I've only ever attended it once. So I can't speak much about it.

Riddle: The one thing that left an impression on me was the 'Apple Bobbing.'

Floyd: Goldfish-chan, what's that...Apple....whatchamacallit? That sure sounds real tasty~

Riddle: It's a traditional game that is played in the Rose Kingdom.

Riddle: You fill a large tub with water, and some apples will be tossed in, floating on the surface, which you have to try and catch with your mouth. Of course, you can't use your hands for this.

Jade: That... certainly sounds like a game to be played on the surface.

Azul: Indeed, the moment one lets go of the apple under the sea, it would immediately try to rise to the surface.

Jade: I suppose chasing after the apple could be a game in itself.

Floyd: That actually sounds real interestin'~

Silver: However... is it even possible to catch an apple with one's mouth?

Riddle: They normally use smaller apples rather than the regular ones... but even then it can be difficult.

Jade: Children with bigger physique would have the better advantage in trying to capture the apple in their mouth.

Riddle: Certainly, one would need good jaw strength to match the size of their mouth as well.

Ruggie: In this school, Jade and Floyd definitely have the advantage here.

Ruggie: They're dang huge. With sharp teeth to boot.

Jade: Fufufu, I wonder about that. I would be too shy to open my mouth so wide with people staring at me...

Jade: And I just may not be able to catch the apple in time while bumbling around...

Floyd: I mean, how do ya even decide on who wins in this kinda game?

Riddle: According to our rules, I think the one who manages to catch an apple the quickest would be considered the winner.

Riddle: There are regions in the Land of Pyroxene that play this game as well.

Riddle: Cater said that in his hometown, the winner was decided by who got the most number of apples.

Riddle: I was never able to grasp the technique, and would end up drenched from head to toe...

Riddle: Thinking back on it now though, I suppose the result was never the important part.

Riddle: Having fun, laughing at each other as we all struggle to catch that apple... I think such joys are important.

Jade: Certainly, to be able to see Riddle-san desperately chasing after an apple with his mouth wide open would be quite amus-

Jade: -I mean, would be worth seeing, yes.

Riddle: Just what were you trying to imply...

Kalim: I get what you were trying to say Riddle! It's not about winning or losing, it's all about whether you had fun or not!

Riddle: Yes... that's right.

Kalim: It's kinda different from the Rose Kingdom, the Halloween over at our Land of Hot Sands is real fun too!

Jade: Oh? Does the Land of Hot Sands have it's own peculiar recreational activity as well?

Kalim: Nope! When you say Halloween in the Land of Hot Sands, we mean 'Feast'!

Kalim: That's because in our homeland, to spend time together as we enjoy a splendid feast is what we consider to be the most fun!

Kalim: That's why, when Halloween comes around, the tables are almost overflowing with all kinds of delicacies!

Jamil: We do this so the ghosts that come back can also eat to their heart's content.

Jamil: Sweet, salty spicy... from small appetizers to large platters, we prepare a wide variety of dishes.

Jamil: When Halloween is close, the kitchens are always on full overdrive from the meal prepping alone.

Jade: Someday I would love to feast my eyes on such a sumptuous dining table myself... Are there any staple dishes for the tradition?

Kalim: The star of the Halloween Feast... it's definitely gotta be that dish.

Kalim: What was it again? That dish we bake with vegetables and sauce...

Jamil: Who knows?

Kalim: Ah, your face tells me you know it. C'mon, it's that one! The one with potatoes, eggplants and tomatoes!!

Jade: Is it something like... a lasagna that had the pasta replaced with vegetables instead?

Kalim: Ahh that's actually pretty close to it. It's super delicious when freshly baked.

Azul: I see, it certainly sounds like a dish that would be popular with people who prefer a healthy diet.

Jade: Jamil-san, would you mind telling us the name of the dish?

Jamil: Ha... It's a local specialty called 'Moussaka.'

Kalim: Yeah that! That's the one!

Kalim: When we were younger, even if there was no banquet or feast going on, I'd still ask Jamil to cook it for me time to time!

Jamil: It was quite the mess back then... my parents, and even the other servants would always scold me, telling me that children shouldn't handle fire by themselves.

Kalim: Eh!? That happened??

Jamil: We were still in elementary school after all.

Jamil: It's not like I was already great at cooking from that age... It would've been a big problem if I accidentally set a fire.

Jamil: I can now understand why my parents and the people around me used to get angry whenever I tried.

Kalim: Oof... I'm really sorry about that.

Kalim: But the moussaka you cooked back then was also super delicious! I can still remember the taste...

Kalim: Talking about it got me hankering for it again. Jamil, you gotta make it for me soon!

Azul: I would like to request it as well. It may be a good addition to the Mostro Lounge menu....

Jamil: No.

Kalim: Aww, don't say that Jamil~

Jamil: Moussaka is a very time-consuming dish that needs a lot of ingredients to make, it even needs two kinds of sauces to be prepared for it

Jamil: I don't believe such a dish is a good fit for a cafe.

Jade: From the sounds of it, it seems to be a dish that requires an oven to bake it.

Jade: The oven back at the Lounge isn't quite big... it would be quite difficult to bake enough of it.

Azul: I'm sure there are a number of ways to increase the turnover rate if you cook it all in one big platter.

Ruggie: Octanivelle's the same as ever.

Jade: Fufu... I suppose we can have a nice, long discussion about this once I have tried Jamil's cooking myself.

Jamil: Wait, I never said that I would make it- ...sigh...

Silver: *snore*

Jamil: See, you've bored Silver to sleep while you were hyped up about making profits.

Jade: Oh my, this won't do. My apologies for derailing the conversation.

Jade: Excuse me for a moment, Silver-san, Would you please wake up?

Silver: ...ha! I apologize. You want to know the traditions of Halloween at the Valley of Thorns, was it.

Jade: Yes, if you would please.

Silver: Halloween... all I can remember is my fath- I mean, Lilia-senpai going all out on dressing up for the occasion.

Riddle: As I recall, both of you are from the same province.

Jade: I see, so even the people from the Valley of Thorns would have costumes... It seems to be a standard custom no matter where you are from on the surface.

Silver: Do merfolk not have costumes?

Jade: We do not have a habit of wearing clothes in the first place.

Jade: But it is precisely because of that fact that I find wearing the many different kind of clothes from the surface quite interesting. Silver: As a matter of fact, it is quite difficult to say that dressing up was a fun memory... I shudder even now when I recall it.

Floyd: Ehh~ Wasn't pancake devilfish-chan even smaller back then?

Silver: Oh, there is not much of a change in terms of appearance, however...

Silver: It was the one and only Halloween that I had seen Lilia-senpai in such a fearsome visage....

Jade: My, that does sound very curious indeed, since he prides himself on being quite cute, and it's hard to disagree.

Silver: Lilia-senpai's threatening demeanor when dressed up like that...

Silver: Sebek who had witnessed the horror with me was also trembling in fear...

Silver: The two of us were so afraid to fall asleep that we promised to stay up all night together.

Jade: Oh my, if I were to be exposed to such horror, I would surely let out a loud scream myself...

Floyd: Ehh~ What the heck, I wanna see that too~ We've been together since the day we were born and I haven't got 'ta see that even once!

Ruggie: So~? Did you both end up greetin' the dawn with tears?

Silver: No, I ended up falling asleep at some point.

Riddle: As I thought...

Silver: Apparently, Sebek had to hold off on going to the toilet the whole night, so the next morning he was angry at me and called me a traitor.

Ruggie: Wow~ Even Sebek had such a cute side to him huh.

Jamil: Well then Ruggie, how is Halloween over at your place?

Ruggie: Me? I don't think our Halloween over at the slums would make much of a reference for ya.

Jade: Now now, I find any and every aspect of culture on the surface to be interesting, so please do enlighten me.

Ruggie: Well, I don't mind tellin' ya, but don't go gettin' all weirded out after hearin' it...

Ruggie: "Trick or Treat" is where ya get pranked if ye don't hand out the candy yeah?

Ruggie: But back at my place, it ain't anythin' as cute as that.

Ruggie: If candy isn't handed over, you'd be marked until ye do... it's a 24 hour candy collectin' endurance event! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Wow that was long, really long, I almost died but I did it for y’all ;-; Note: Jamil and Kalim actually call the dish “Munazzara” but I believe that is another term for ‘Moussaka’ in jpn, I changed it so it’s easier to place. Part 1 Part 3

[the-irken-pony]

Hi I wrote a self-indulgent copperright fanfic based on a daydream

I totally didn’t learn the rules of poker just so I could write this fic what are you talking about

Quick summary: (Takes place during Terrence Suave’s time) Four Toppats opt for an afternoon of poker, but the group notices their friend acting unusual after a brief conversation with the chief’s right hand man.

Word count: 1998

Warnings: Gambling

“Alright, Macbeth, how much are ya putting in?” Gordon Smith smirked, fanning himself with the playing cards in his hand. “Unless you’re doing the wise thing and dropping out now.”

Mr. Macbeth huffed, skimming over his current stash of bills. “Hold yer horses, I’m tryna think.”

The man directly across from Macbeth grunted. “Let ‘im take ‘is time. He wouldn’t wanna drop out if he didn’t ‘ave to.” He gave a quick glance down at his hand; luck had favored him enough to grant him a straight flush, one of the best possible hands. “Could afford to think a little faster, though.”

Mr. Macbeth growled. “Alright, alright, fine.” Macbeth downed the rest of his soda and pushed forward half of his current earnings. “$600.”

“You sure about that?” Sledge MacRush raised his eyebrows. “When did you get so bold?”

“When y’all decided that rushin’ me was a better idea than just waitin’. Six hundred, final answer.

“Hm. Very well then. I’ll match you up on that. What about you, Smith?”

Smith chuckled sheepishly. “Aw man. I’m gonna have to drop out on this one. Promised Charlotte I wouldn’t bet more than $500 at a time.”

“What!? Come on, mate, you shoulda said somethin’ sooner!”

“Haha, yeah, I guess…”

“Well, after this round we can establish a limit.” Sledge gave him a sympathetic smile. “That leaves you, Red. You droppin’ out, too?”

“Nah, might as well stay. $600 for me as well.”

Of course, Red wasn’t actually the man’s name. People only called him that because of his naturally orange facial hair. People called “Red” all sorts of things, since he never gave his name out to anyone, not even close friends. He had to admit that he was hoping to have gotten a more consistent nickname by now, much like other Toppats. Even so, constantly changing nicknames was still better than telling someone his real name.

“So then, everyone else has bet already, eh? Alright, then, reveal your hands… now!”

Everyone around the table booth (except for poor Smith) laid their hands out on the table. Seeing the straight flush that the mustached man had laid out on the table, Sledge and Macbeth groaned as the nameless man chuckled.

“Maybe don’t put in half your cash next time,” he sneered.

Sledge huffed. “Remind me why we invite you to these things again?”

“Because you wouldn’t admit defeat if it left you stranded on an island with no way off.”

Sledge glared at the ginger from across the table as Smith let out a small chuckle.

“Touché.” He gathered up the cards and began to shuffle them. “Macbeth, you goin’ first this time?”

“Ahem. Excuse me.”

The group looked up from their game to see who had spoken. Standing next to the table booth was the chief’s new second in command, holding a clipboard and pen. He had only had his job for a week, but some Toppats were already calling him “the chief’s only good decision”. Admittedly, it was easy to see why just from a glance; he always stood in a very dignified manner, and every aspect of his appearance gave a sense of formality and professionalism--save for the bags under his eyes.

“Oi, Reginald, can it wait? We’re kinda in the middle of somethin’ ‘ere,” Sledge said as he continued to shuffle.

“Well, can you put it on hold? This is kind of important,” the right hand man replied, tapping his pen onto his clipboard.

Red shot Sledge a glare from across the table, prompting the latter to set down the deck of cards.

“Ignore him. Whatcha need, then?”

“What? Oh, right, right…” Reginald flipped through a couple of pages of his clipboard. “Mister Gordon Smith, the leader is sending you undercover tomorrow, and would like you to spend tonight preparing.”

“W-wait, tomorrow?” Smith stammered. “Why!?”

“Don’t ask me, I wouldn’t know,” Reginald yawned, rubbing his eyes. “He hasn’t given many details, he’s just said that he’s sent one other person already.”

“Why not pick someone else!?” Mr. Macbeth snapped. “It ain’t like everyone else’s busier than he is.”

“Easy, easy. I don’t mind doing it,” Smith assured him. Macbeth grumbled something under his breath as he crushed his empty soda can in his hand. Sledge crossed his arms and pouted. Seeing how tense the table was, Red cleared his throat to speak.

“So… one week into the job already, eh? How’sat been goin’ for ya?”

“I probably shouldn’t answer that,” Reginald muttered, looking over his clipboard. The redhead sat in uncomfortable silence, trying to think of a good response.

“…Cool.”

“Anyways,” Reginald said, “that’s all I needed from you. I won’t take up any more of your time.”

“Alright, thank you,” Smith replied. The group watched as the man left the table while staring at his clipboard.

“Guess we’ll leave it up to you, Smith,” Sledge said. “Do you wanna keep goin’ or would ya rather get an early start on prep?”

“Well…”

As the others discussed Smith’s plans for the day, Red watched the chief’s right hand pour himself a cup of coffee, drink the whole cup in one gulp, and then pour himself a second cup before putting in additives.

He furrowed his brow. How little sleep was the man getting? Given the chief’s current track record, it did make sense--other elite members often said that Reginald was eager to please, after all, but it seemed that the whole clan rested on his shoulders. He had only gotten brief glimpses of the right hand man in the past, but when he did he was always by himself hunched over a series of papers.

Yet, despite everything, a mere glance at him would give no indication of a struggle. He kept himself so professional-looking and neat; he always wore a fancy suit, and his mustache was styled to curl upwards at the ends. And that wasn’t even mentioning his delicate yet dignified posture whenever he stood or talked to--

“Oi!”

Red felt a sharp flick against the back of his head, yanking him away from his thoughts. He turned and glared at the man responsible, rubbing the spot where Sledge had flicked him.

“Ya awake over there, Foggy Eyes? We’ve been talkin’ at ya for like a solid minute now!”

“Oh, uh, were you?” “Foggy Eyes” sheepishly cleared his throat. “What’s up, then?”

“We were discussin’ plans with Smith.” Macbeth nodded his head in Smith’s direction.

“I’m good with going for one more round, if everyone else still wants to,” Smith said.

“Oh. Well, deal me in, then.”

“Alright, nice!” Sledge picked up the deck and began to shuffle.

“So what were you staring at over there, anyway?” Smith asked, lifting his head up to see over him.

“What? I wasn’t starin’ at anything.”

“No, ya definitely were,” Sledge chuckled as he combined two partial decks of cards. “You kept starin’ in the same direction since that guy left.”

“I-I just… zoned out, is all.” The ginger was starting to get nervous. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

Macbeth squinted. “You’re actin’ awful strange…”

“Keep talkin’ and you ain’t gonna be actin’ anything,” Red snapped.

Next to him, Smith was deep in thought. “Sledge… say that last part again…?”

The ginger could feel himself getting warm. “W-wait, no, don’t--” 

“‘You kept starin’ in the same direction’?”

“Nono, after that.”

“Don’t--”

“‘Since that guy left’?”

“Yeah, heh. That.” Smith nudged the hunched up man sitting next to him. “That have anything to do with anything?”

“Uhhhh…” The man slightly lowered his hat to try and obscure his face, which was already turning noticeably red. Sledge snickered.

“Oh, I see what’s goin’ on here,” he said with a smirk. “You don’t happen to fancy the chief’s right hand man, do ya?”

“I-- O-of course not!” he sputtered. “I-I just-- M-Macbeth, c’mon, back me up here, will ya?”

“Man, you were red as a tomato ‘fore anyone even said anythin’.” Mr. Macbeth leaned back in his seat. “I couldn’t defend ya if I wanted to.”

“Shut up, I was not!”

“Come ooon, admit it already!” Smith gave the flustered Toppat a light shove. “It’s not like we haven’t already caught on.”

“I-I, um-- I--” He pulled his top hat down over his face, which had risen to an unbearable temperature by this point. “I-I don’t-- I dunno, I…” he mumbled, getting quieter with every word, “I-I guess he’s, uh… k-kind-- kinda… sorta… r-really… c-cute…”

Sledge burst into a fit of laughter. “Oh man, I knew ya had a thing for ‘im, but I didn’t know it was that bad!”

“I-it is not…” By this point, the man’s face had turned to a brighter shade of red than his mustache.

“Well, go on,” Smith urged. “Whaddya like about him?”

“Mmmmrrrmmmppphhh…”

Mr. Macbeth couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Gotta admit, never woulda ‘spected to see ya like this any day of the week.”

“Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup…”

Smith laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “Well?”

“Ohhh my goood…” Red swallowed, trying desperately to compose himself. Knowing there was no way he was getting out of this, he forced himself to speak. “W-well, there’s, uh…” He couldn’t help but smile as he recalled the right hand man’s various features. “Th-there’s his-- his mustache, I-I guess… and-and his voice…”

Remembering that he was with three other people, he cleared his throat.

“Alright, all of you, listen.” He glared at the three Toppats. “Word of this gets out to anyone, and I’ll blow all your heads off. Understood?”

“Alright, alright,” Sledge laughed. “Wasn’t plannin’ on tellin’ anyone anyway, lover boy.”

Red froze. “I-- L-lov--!?” There were at least one hundred different insults he wanted to retort back, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get a single word to come out.

“Aw, don’t take it too hard, man,” Smith said. “If it means anything, I’d say you’ve got a shot.”

“Would ya?”

Smith placed a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, sure. I bet you two’d be really cute together,” he sang while nudging the ginger, who buried his flushed face in his hands.

“Oh my god, I hate you so much…”

“Alright, you two, enough already,” Macbeth told them. “Y’all’re gonna kill ‘im at this rate.”

Smith giggled. “Okay, okay. Really though,” he told Red. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. Take it from me--it took me years to ask Charlotte out on a date, and just last week we celebrated our second anniversary.”

The man smiled a little. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Smith looked down at his watch and frowned. “Oh man, I completely lost track of time, I gotta get ready.”

Sledge rubbed the back of his head. “I suppose that’s gonna mean you’ll need your phone back, then?”

“Yes, Sledge.” Smith crossed his arms. “Yes it will.”

Macbeth rolled his eyes. “I really don’t understand why ya keep takin’ it from ‘im.”

“It gets better signal than mine…” Sledge replied, hunching his shoulders defensively.

“There are better phones than his, y’know,” Red snickered.

“I can get his easier,” Sledge huffed. “Whatever. I’ll come along just in case it got lost in my room somewhere.”

“Thanks.” Smith glared. He turned to Red. “Anyways, keep your chin up, mate.”

As the group gathered their earned cash and got up to leave, Red’s mind drifted back to the chief’s right hand man. Whenever he saw him during work hours, he was always by himself. He didn’t ever see him not working either. Did he not have anyone else to help him with the workload? Or even to talk to?

Maybe Smith was right. Even if they didn’t start going out, he at least deserved someone to talk to and help him manage his workload. There was no good reason for him to have to do it all alone.

“Ahem.”

The group turned to Mr. Macbeth, who was standing next to the table, which was covered in scattered playing cards.

“Any of ya gonna help me get these?”

The group exchanged glances with each other.

“Nah.”

[babbushka]

Some Surprise

Pale (Burn This) x Reader

4.7k ; It’s NSFW y’all 

“What the fuck,” Pale growls out as he slams the front door to the apartment behind the two of yous, “Was that?”

He’s not happy, hadn’t been happy ever since you left the club. He feels like his blood’s boiling, feels like he wants to punch something, wants to beat the shit out of someone. But he didn’t want to cause a fuckin’ scene in front of you and he hoped that by the time he got you back home he’d’ve cooled down a little, but after four cigarettes on the drive over with his hand wedged between your thighs, he’s still pissed.

“What was what, honey?” You ask, stepping out of your shoes.

That sends a red hot flash of irritation through him and he sucks on his teeth as he makes his way into the kitchen and rummages around for the little glass container of coke he keeps on hand for times just like this. You come over to him as he’s setting up his mirror and credit card, cuts through the fine white powder, and you drape your body over his back lovingly.

“No no no.” He shakes his head with a dark little laugh, “Here’s what we ain’t doing tonight, we ain’t pretending like you weren’t flirting with that fuckin’ guy at the club – pushin’ your tits out and shit like that. I ain’t stupid, you were flirting.”

This makes you laugh, and Pale scowls a little at that, scowls because he don’t think that’s too fuckin’ funny.

“Pale, I thanked him for holding the door open for me, that’s all.” You would never tell him this, but you love when he’s jealous like this – you love it. It meant you were in for the night of your life, if you played your cards right.

“And what the fuck was he doin’ holding the door open, huh?” Pale asks, because he knows guys, guys that go to clubs like the one Pale took you to, he knows they ain’t ever just nice dudes wantin’ to do their random deed of the day. “I turn around to pay and when I look back at my fuckin’ girl she’s battin’ her eyelashes at some schmuck in sunglasses even though it’s ten o’clock at night, un-be-fuckin’-lievable.”

He bends over and snorts up a long line of cocaine, straight up his nose from a straw made of a dirty rolled up dollar-bill, and when he’s turning back around to face you he catches you leaving the kitchen, catches you unzipping the dress he bought you, and he doesn’t know if it’s the drugs hitting his system or the way he wants to be close to you all the time, but he’s itching to get you back near him.

“Come here.” You say with a bright light sweetness to your voice on your way to the bedroom, and he’s already flying high, already desperate for you.

“You ain’t the fuckin’ boss of me sweetheart.” He says, even though he follows you anyway, immediately plasters himself to your back and grabs you around the waist and picks you up.

“Oh yeah? Then who is?” You laugh and laugh and laugh at bein’ manhandled, and Pale’s heart is pounding in his ears and his dick is so hard at the way your dress slides off your body from the jostling.

“I don’t got one, I’m a self-made man.” He tosses you onto the bed and watches as the mattress bounces, already licking his lips as he shucks off his own clothes. “Built my fuckin’ self up with these hands.”

“Those hands?” You ask as you watch him unbuttoning his nice silk shirt, as you arrange yourself on the bed, totally naked. You hadn’t worn anything underneath the dress, no bra no panties – nothing.

It drove Pale wild.

“Damn straight.” He chokes out, yanks his belt open with shaking hands.

God he feels out of this world, feels over the moon, with the coke running through his system. He’s going to fuck you, he’s going to get his cock up into you in any and every way he can, and he’s going to drag out the prettiest sounds from you. The thought of it is enough to already have him sweating.

You see him struggling with the belt and you take mercy on him, crawl to the foot of the bed where he’s standing and expertly pull it out of the loops of his pleated trousers.

“Why don’t you put those hands to work then?” You ask, heat behind your eyes as you grasp his sweating palms and guide them to your tits.

Your tits, perfect in his hands, the perfect size and shape for him to touch and squeeze. He admires them for a while, rolls and pinches your nipples between his calloused fingers, loves the way that has you biting at you lip and sighing.

His brain whirrs, vision going blurry, when your hands push his further down your body.

“Yeah? You want me to play with this pretty pussy?” He asks, already walking forward, climbing onto the bed, pushing you over so you fall onto your back as he grips your thighs and spreads them apart. “That it, you just lookin’ to get me riled up so I’d fuck you into next week – that it?”

“Uh huh.” You nod, playing along. He knows, somewhere in the back of his head behind the rush of the cocaine, he knows you’re tellin’ him the fuckin’ truth, you weren’t flirting. But it’s more fun like this, more fun when he gets to punish you. So you play along and bat your lashes at him for real when you say, “I didn’t mean to put you into a bad mood.”

“You didn’t sweetheart, you didn’t.” He mumbles, immediately attaches his mouth to your neck, immediately begins sucking and worrying your throat against his tongue. “You’re my girl, that’s all. I don’t want any fucking creeps thinking they can get away with thinking about you. I don’t want them thinkin’ they can have this.”

He can’t hold back from touching you anymore, and without ceremony he shoves two big fingers up into your cunt. He shoves them in dry, because he knows he ain’t gonna need nothing, no spit or nothing, to get them slicked up.

You keen for him right away, your hips pressing up and nipples hardening impossibly against his chest where he’s got his body pressed against yours.

“Pale!” You gasp, not expecting two fingers to start, your hands flying into his hair, grasping at his back.

“God I’m gonna fuck you so hard,” He groans under your chin when he fingers you, when he’s fast and rough with his hand against your pussy, coaxing out come that he had left behind. “You feel that? That’s my come from before we left, isn’t it? Feel how wet you are for me?”

It’s slipping and sliding out of you now, old come that he had kept plugged up into you by virtue of making you sit on his hand all night at dinner in the dark hazy club where the comedian was tellin’ jokes he wasn’t listening to. His come from hours ago finally getting the chance to escape from the deep parts of your pussy, spilling all over his fingers.

He fucks it back into you, he’s going to fuck more into you.

“You like being stuffed full, you dirty fuckin’ whore. I should keep you filled up with my come all the time. Jerk off during the day and blow my load into you right when I come home, use it as lube to fuck you with so I can come in you again. Wouldn’t that be a pretty sight to see. Surprised it ain’t slide down your thighs while we were at dinner – or did it? Did you make a mess of the chair at the club?” He can’t keep his mouth shut as he speeds himself up, wanting you nice and stretched.

He had a surprise for you, something he ain’t done with you before, but he’s drunk on the idea of it and he needs you pliant and loose for him to do it, so three fingers squelch in and out of your pussy as he drools onto your tits.

“I don’t – Pale, yes! – I don’t know.” Your back is arched up off the mattress for him, hips trying to press his fingers to that perfect little spot inside your cunt that makes you see stars. He knows where it is, he’ll go hunting for it later, but right now he’s too obsessed with the feeling of his old come and your fresh slick mixing.

“So hot, fuck honey your cunt’s so hot, burnin’ up for me.” He says, looking up at you only to see your chin pinched, big eyes pleading. “Quit pouting at me like that I’m gonna give you what you want, don’t I always?”

“Yes, yes Pale, please I want you now.” You whine, you desperate needy thing, and Pale bites your jaw hard, kisses you real nice and long and deep.

“Yeah I bet you do.” He says against your lips, where he can feel you trembling and can see tears starting to collect in your eyes. You want more friction, delicious and hard and rough, and his ego swells as big as his cock when he says, “Go ahead and cry for it sweetheart, lemme see those tears, show me how bad you want me.”

“Please!” You do, you let those big fat tears of lust slip down your cheeks, and he brings his other hand up to shove in your mouth as he licks up the salty tracks that disappear back into your hair on the pillow.

“You’re so pretty.” He’s out of it, head fuzzy and obsessed with you, just looking at you makes him rub his cock against your folds, slides it through them, not able to hold back on giving in to his own desire for contact on his dick. “You know that? You know how pretty you are? I’d fuck you every second of every day if I could get away with it, you fit so good around me. Jesus it’s like you were made just for me, me and my big fucking dick. I’d fuck you and kiss you all day, all fuckin’ day, come in you so much you’ll hear it sloshing around in your pretty pussy.”

“I – I’m – ” You’re moaning moaning moaning against his fingers where they’re too big in your mouth, where they keep making you almost gag, and he finally relents, finally can’t hold back any more.

In one harsh thrust he’s buried into you all the way, all the way to the hilt where his balls are pressed up against you. He’s too amped up, too hyped up, can feel the coke singing through his veins as he fucks you hard, skin slapping on skin.

He’s punching out moans from you as you sob, as your chest hiccups and you shake rattle roll your eyes back from the pleasure. He can feel your toes curling against his calves, and he’s sweating up a fucking storm already, already just from the feeling of your pussy around him.

It’s squeezing him tight, fluttering and throbbing around him, and he knows that means you’re getting close, especially with the way you’re moaning loud for him.

“Come if you want, it’s okay, it’s okay honey.” He rambles as he fucks you, takes his hand out of your mouth to grab your jaw with it, spits onto your tongue and watches mesmerized as you swallow it down with a gasp. “I ain’t done with you yet, not by a longshot, but you can come, let me feel it I want you to, come on my cock and thank me for it.”

Your eyes shut tight and your body goes taught and rigid for a few moments as he slows his hips down, thrusts into you, fucks you through your orgasm. Your whole body is shaking and he doesn’t know if his is too, or if his vision is just blurry.

“Thank you, thank you Pale, thank you.” Your chest heaves, and he smacks the flesh of your side hard, hard enough to watch your tits ripple from the force of it.

Now that you’ve come for the first time of the evening, a lot of your tension sighs away. You drop your hips and go pliant, and he loves when you’re like this because he can get deeper deeper deeper, impossibly deeper into you with ease.

“You’re so good like this,” He just has to tell you, he’s on fire, feels like he’ll combust if he doesn’t tell you,  “Fuck I’m all the way up in your throat ain’t I? You know what don’t answer that, you just keep comin’ sweetheart. I can feel it on my cock, feel how you’re squeezin’ me tight, don’t worry I won’t stop I ain’t even close to stopping.”

You’re slack jawed, eyes shut still as you revel in your own pleasure, and it fills Pale with a rush of pride to know he did that to you, he made you feel that good. He’s gonna be following soon, that’s the one fucking downside of the coke, it makes him blow his load too quick. But he’s got a good bounce-back, he’ll be hard again in no time, ready to come in you again and again and again – all night long if he wants.

Right now he wants you even more relaxed, so without stopping, without pulling out of your pussy, he grabs your hips in his big hands and starts to turn you over.

You whine at being moved, but you get the hint and help him, your body bouncing up up up the bed from the force of his hips as they keep plowing into you.

“On your stomach, c’mon be good for me.” He orders, and you listen, you always listen, even when all you want is to just lay there and feel good, you move yourself the way he wants so he can feel good too. “That’s it, oh fuck, yeah.” He props your hips up with his hand, holds your pussy and feels the way his cock bulges your lower stomach out as it slides in deeper.

When he grinds his cock up against you, he can feel his head knocking against your cervix, and you gasp out sharply with a, “Pale!”

“You like that?” He asks, wanting to make sure you’re okay, even fucked up like this, even with his blood rushing in his ears, roaring in his brain, pounding against his skull the same way he’s pounding into you, punching moans out of your throat, he wants to make sure he ain’t doin’ anything you don’t want.

“Yes! Yes, I do – offfuck – ” You’re sobbing again, crying because he’s found that spot inside you and is shoving his cock against it in short thrusts, fast little things that have you trying to push yourself back against him, finding nowhere to go.

“I got a surprise for you when I’m done, when I’m finished with you, a little toy.” He growls as he dips his hand lower, circles your clit in a way that has you coming again, shouting on his cock and his fingers, whole body shaking and sweating. “I don’t normally really fuckin’ deal with shit like this but I saw it and thought of you, wanted to try somethin’ new. And since you had to go and be such a horny fucking brat today, I figured it’d be good for you.”

He growls the words out but he can’t deny he’s excited, he can’t deny he’s dreamt about doing this to you, getting you boneless like the way he’s planning on doing.

You still have some of your brain left in you despite your second orgasm, and though your face is muffled into the pillow and you’re crying through the pleasure, you can still talk.

“I can’t help it I love your dick so much Pale,” You moan as you rock your hips back against him to milk your orgasm, pussy drooling all over his cock, all over the sheets making them sticky sticky sticky, only proving your point when you still won’t stop, “I want it all the time.”

“I know sweetheart I know – you’re gonna fuckin’ get it. You’ll get it, believe me.” He presses a hand between your shoulder blades and pushes you down against the mattress, making you lay in your own mess, “But it’s gonna be so good to watch you sob on this thing the way you do on my cock, I’m gonna get you blacked out from pleasure between me and this thing.”

The promise has you shuddering, has your body twisting and arching under his heavy hand, and he can feel the pit of heat in his stomach build build build, growing tighter and tighter. He’s going to come soon but even that won’t mean a reprieve for you, not with what he’s planning.

“I’m addicted to this pussy, you know that? Who gives a shit about coke when I got this sweet cunt, these perfect fuckin’ lips. They’re so sweet, so juicy, so hot on my cock.” He says it like he’s mad about it, like he’s mad at you – but he ain’t, not really, not ever.

Even when he saw that scumbag lookin’ you up and down, imagining your tits and your pretty pussy underneath that short dress, he wasn’t mad at you.

“Fuck!” He shouts then, shouts because he’s coming, his hips slamming against your ass once, twice, three times, before he stills against you.

He’s pretty sure if he died, this is what Heaven would feel like; your cunt wrapped around his pulsing cock as he coats your insides with more of his come. His eyes roll back into his head and he chases the feeling for as long as he can, vision whiting out as you’re good to him, so fucking good to him, in the way you still clench around him, in the way you circle your hips so even though he ain’t moving, he’s still getting that delicious friction.  

He’s nearly boneless, he could nearly fucking cry from how good coming feels when he’s coming in you – but he’s not done yet. He wants one more out of the both of yous before taking a break, before grabbing a drink of water and some tissues and resting so you can do it all again.

He wants one more, and without pulling out of you, he reaches across the mattress to the bedside table, pulls out a brand spankin’ new vibrator. It’s pink, and doesn’t look like very much, but the woman at the store said she had one of her own and it’s made her scream, so Pale trusts it to do its job.

“I’m gonna pull out and plug you up with this thing, okay?” He pants out, voice raw, throat sore from how dry it is, all his spit in your mouth, on your back.

“’Kay,” You reply with a nod, pulling your knees up under you so he doesn’t have to hold your body up.

With his free hands, he groans as he watches his dick slide out of you, seemingly unending, and all the come in the world pouring out with it.

But before it can all drip onto the sheets, which are a fucking mess of sweat and spit and come and slick, he slides the vibrator into you, positioning it correctly so it’s little appendage fits right over your clit nice and snugly. It’s easy with you bein’ so damn stretched, so pliant and warm. You hum out a little pleased sigh, and your hips and thighs flex to accommodate the harder material. It’s thin, not even the thickness of one of his fingers, not nearly as long as Pale’s cock – otherwise he wouldn’t have bought the fuckin’ thing, he’s a firm believer in his cock bein’ what fills you right – and though it’s made of silicone it has a different feel inside your body.

He can feel his high crashing, starting to come down. The sweat is cold on the back of his neck, and he’s got the makings of a killer fucking headache because he’s so dehydrated. But he holds his breath and watches with wide eyes when he reaches into your pussy and finds the little button on the side of the vibrator.

Right away, he knows this was a good purchase, because right away you’re losing your fucking mind.

He quickly realizes he’s a fucking idiot, and realizes you’re going to suffocate into the pillows, so he quickly flips you onto your back and kneels between your open legs as you completely and totally fucking lose it.

You don’t even make any sound, that’s how intense it’s gotta be. Your entire body is shuddering as your eyes roll back into your head, back arching so much Pale’s worried you’re going to fall over, fall off the fucking bed. He’s entranced with the way it looks, how every now and again you will have a full body convulsion from the pleasure, how your mouth drops open but there’s nothing coming out, fully speechless.

He leaves you like that for ten seconds to go get a cigarette and calm the nerves in his body from the crash of his high, needing the nicotine to soothe him and help him get brought back to earth. He lights up and sucks in deep breaths, and when he looks back at you, you’re sobbing.

Pale holds the cigarette in his hand as he sits down on the edge of the bed, bends over your body and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth. He knows the fuckin’ toy’s right on your gspot and right on your clit, and his hot tongue on your nipple is what makes you break, what makes you hyperventilate and shout for him.

The sounds of your gasps and moans travel through him straight to his dick, and he finds he’s rock hard again in a matter of minutes. He smooths one of his hands down your stomach, rubs slow caring circles that are in total opposition from the mind-breaking vibrations that shock through you.

“Shit I’m hard again.” He tells you, leaving one hand comforting on your stomach and taking his cock into his other, giving himself a few long strokes as he asks, “Can you hear me? Or are you too fucked?”

“I can – ah! – I can hear you – oh Pale!” Your voice high high high as you gasp and choke out the words, and Pale would be jealous if he didn’t make you feel like this on his own anyway. But he does, and he makes you feel better, and he’s going to make you feel better soon, even though you’re demanding him now with, “Pale please, pleasepleaseplease.”

“Beg a little louder honey, this thing’s noisy.” He plays with you, smokes his Barclay and breathes out the smoke into the air, turning the bedroom cloudy hazy lazy as your eyes roll back back back, as your toes curl, as you’re nearly foaming at the mouth.

“Please!” You shout, shout so loud he’s sure the neighbors are going to hear, and he gets a sick satisfaction from that, from the way you want him. “I need, fuck I need – ”

“I’m right here, right here.” He pets your hair back but that isn’t what you want and he fucking knows it.

“Fuck me?” You ask, you plead, sobbing from the pleasure that wracks through you.

“No sweetheart this thing’s fuckin’ you for now, just for a little while, just ‘til I finish my cigarette.” He tells you calmly, his bad mood gone, his headache gone. Nothin’ matters except for you, nothin’ matters in his brain or his heart or his dick except for you feeling good, you coming. He wonders how many times you’ve come from the force of this thing just buzzing into you. “You’re doin’ so good takin’ it though, when you ain’t chokin’ from it.”

He gets dizzy suddenly, from the lack of blood in his head, all of it going to his dick which he had almost forgot about, big and thick in his hand. He strokes himself off, hard and fast, watching you convulse and shudder and shake, listening to you cry out his name.

“Look what you’re doing to me, making me so fucking hard again, my balls are aching for you and I just fuckin’ came in you. I’m gonna come in you again, okay? You want that honey? Want me to stuff you full of my load like I said I would?” He stubs out his cigarette and grasps one of your ankles, pulls you down the bed in a way that has you shouting again because you’re not expecting it, the thing moving inside you.

“Yes! Pale come in me, come in me I need you, I need your cock – I need – ” You’re eager, so eager but he grabs your jaw with one hand and jerks off with the other, bringing himself right to the edge.

“I ain’t turnin’ this thing off.” He warns you, “You’re gonna take us both, you think you can do that?”

And that makes you get a grip on your eyes at least, because you’re lookin’ at him, clear as day, as your body trembles all the way up to your face.

“I’ll try, just please come in me.” You beg, reaching for him with arms that feel both like lead and jello at the same time, pleasure weak and heavy, “I want it so bad.”

“You’re so good honey, here I come.” He kisses you, kisses you even though your mouth doesn’t want to cooperate, as he takes his hand away from your jaw to hold the toy steady. He doesn’t want you to get hurt, doesn’t want it to move too deep or bang against your walls or nothing, so he holds it still as he nudges the head of his cock inside your pussy along with the toy. “Fuck it’s really vibratin’ hard huh? Is it right there, right on the spot?”

He can feel it, just how crazy the power of the toy is, and is sparks up his own spine as he pushes his dick in slowly slowly slowly, the double penetration making you go limp again, making you lose the ability to speak.

“One squeeze if you’re okay, two if you want me to make it stop.” He says seriously, taking a hold of your hand.

“Don’t you fucking dare stop!” You bark out as you give him one tight squeeze.

He would laugh about that, if he were capable of laughing, if he could manage it, but the vibrator even has him feeling out of his mind, so instead he teases you with an, “Oh she speaks does she.”

Neither of you last very long after that, after he’s somehow, somehow managed to fit himself in your cunt along with the toy. He’s coming again and he knows you have to be coming again, knows you have to be coming over and over, because you’re so fucking wet around him.

He’s almost blind with it, when he comes, almost blacks out himself, until he hears your soft voice calling his name.

“Turn it off?” You ask, and he does, does immediately, the buzzing coming to a halt.

“Shit yeah, yeah sweetheart it’s okay.” He kisses your face soothingly, making sure you’re taking even breaths. Your eyes are closed and you’re a fucking mess, a fucking dirty disaster, and he’s never been more fond of you, never felt more for you inside his chest than he does now. “You did so good, took that like a fuckin’ champ you did. How do you feel?”

“Like I’m on cloud nine.” You give him a dreamy smile, eyes glassy glassy glassy when you hum out and “I love you.”

“I bet you do – ouch!” He chuckles when you smack his back playfully, “Alright alright, I love you too doll.”

And the two of you laugh together when you take one look at him, when you shake your head incredulously as he pulls the toy out of your very well loved body, how such a tiny thing could have so much power.

“I gotta say,” You start, voice raw and thick, and he kisses you for all he’s worth, grateful you indulged him in this when you agree, “That’s some fuckin’ surprise.”

                                                   ----------------

Taggin some Pale Pals :) <33  @fullofbees​ @dreamboatdriver​ @thecurlycaptain​ @bourbonboredom​ @driverficarchive​ @rosalynbair​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @adamsnackdriver​ @glitzescape @adamsnacc-kler​ @kyloxfem​ @fallin-for-youreyes  @attorneyl​ @jedihbic​ @bens-rose​ @formerly-anonhamster​ @thepilotanon​ @hippieface @tinyplanet-explorers​ @satansstrawberry @riseofkylo​ @whiskey-bumblebee​ @helloimindelaware​ @mandowhoreian​ @ah-callie​ @proxyfoxy​  @hidingp​ @goodboybensolo​ @intrestellarsarah @the-marvelatic​ @miasera​ @emily-strange​ @proxyfoxy​ @insanita​ @disaster-rose​ @hazydespair​​ @yosoymuyloca​ @ktellmeastory​

[writingforjoy]

Raven Springs Academy Chapter 2: Just Hangin’

TW: DEATH, APPARENT SUICIDE

After weeks of planning I finally get to get rid of this parasite. “Now tie the rope to the rail, and then around your neck.” I said calmly. “Make sure they’re nice and tight.”

“Annabelle, please, I don’t wanna die!” Zo blubbered. “I’ll do anything you want. Just please don’t make me do this!”

My temple throbbed under my fingertips as I rolled my eyes. “Please just shut UP already. You brought this on yourself. I gave you countless chances and warnings to leave me and my roomie alone, but did you listen? Nope and now here we are.” I said waving my hand at her. “Now stand on the rail.”

“No wait! Waitwaitwaitwait!” She shouted while slowly climbing on top of the rail. “If you let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone about this or your secret.” Her legs wobbled as her balance wavered. “I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll even pay you! Just please don’t make me do this!”

“You can’t even match the price I’m being paid to do this.” I snickered. The music from the party in the next building over grew louder with her wails. “You’re gonna jump at the snap of my fingers, ‘kay?” I walked down a few steps to get a better angle. Is KJ gonna want evidence of this? “Any last words, Zola?” I shouted. Nah, better not risk it, if Mother doesn't do it then neither should I.

“SO HELP ME GOD ANNABELLE I WILL HAVE YOU AND YOUR GAY-!”

I snapped my fingers as I shouted, “Goodbye Zola Law!” I watched as she struggled to gain control of her body, glaring at me with anger and despair in her eyes as her legs wobbled on the rail. I smiled and waved calmly as she screamed and jumped from the rail. Her bones snapped as she dangled with the other ghost decorations.

Finally, I’ve been dying to get rid of her. Now to find Lillith and tell her she doesn’t have to worry about Zo anymore. I thought going down the stairs. Then a foul stench wafted through the air, and I turned around and saw pee running down Zo’s leg. “Well, didn’t think I’d ever see that happen.” I mused. “Still gross though~” I turned back and saw a girl on the second floor looking horrified at the body, then at me. Dammit, how much did she see? “Um, hey there.” Crap! My voice still sounds like Duncan’s! I coughed into my arm and patted my chest. “It’s fine, I have a severe cold and uumm….” I glanced at Zo quickly before turning back to the new girl. “I was just about to report this suicide to the campus police and-.” I stopped once I noticed that she was taking small steps backwards and sighed. “You’re not buying any of this, are you?”

She shook her head slowly and whispered, “You’re a monster.”

“Noo,” I took a slow step down and watched her step back. “I’m only human-.”

“But your eyes!” She shouted. “Both of you, you’re monsters!”

“Yeah, okay, fine.” I took another step down and she took another step back. “You caught me~ I’m a demon. Whoop-dee-do.” I mocked victoriously while twirling my fingers in the air. “I know this is crazy, but, how about we make a little deal?”

She made a shrieking noise and ran as I took five steps down in a small leap. KJ did not pay me enough for this. I leapt down to the second floor landing to chase after the girl, but stopped when I heard her tumbling down the stairs and another girl giggling. The hell is goin’ on down there?

Then Lillith appeared and giggled more. “That’s what you get for always meddling.” Then she looked up and smiled at me. “Oh, hi roomie!” She waved with her good hand.

“Sup. I see you finally went to see the nurse.” I looked at her arm dangling in its cast and winced when the echo of her screams from earlier haunted me eardrums. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She said rubbing her hand down her casted arm. “At least I was able to take care of our Zo problem. Now you don’t have to worry about her anymore.” She replied with a grin. Then her face grew puzzled as she stared at me. “Why do you sound like that guy from Science?”

“Cause I took care of the Zo problem.” My throat started to tingle and the pitch of my voice started to rise as the potion wore off. “And it was the only way to get the Obedience Necklace to work. Isn’t this the Zo you’ve been talking about?” I asked pointing at the hanging body.

“Mmm noooope, been talkin’ bout this one.” She glanced at the crippled Zo. “Well, looks like there was actually more than two Zos. …Oh well, they’re dead and gone now and outta our hair. Let’s go back to the dorm, I’m tired.”

She’s taking this unusually well. I stood there looking at her for a moment, amazed by how calm she was, and then smiled as I pulled my phone from out my back pocket and went to my text messages. “Ya know what Miss Dottie? I think we’ll be good friends after all.”

I think I found a partner 

I made my way down the steps and out the door. I met Lillith beside the bush where she stood with her hand on her hip until she noticed me. “Ready bestie?”

“Not your bestie Lillith.” I said walking past her.

“Oooh, you said my name! I think you’re starting to like me.” She giggled and caught up to me.

“Pfft, as if roomie.” My phone buzzed in my hand showing a new text from KJ. 

Meet me in my room. ASAP. Both of you.

“Hey, mind if we take a detour? Kwan-Ji wants to meet us real quick.”

“Oh my goddess, really? I get to have an audience with her majesty? Pinch me I must be dreaming.” She said pretending to faint.

“Why yes, her royal highness has found an interest in you and wanted to meet you personally.” I laughed.

No wait, who is this new partner you're considering? I rather not be surprised.

Lillith Pierdot

WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUS ANNABELLE WE DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT SHE IS!!

Crap she’s right. “Um, Lillith?”

“We’ve been roomies for a good few months now, you can call me ‘Lil’ ya know~” She hummed. “OoOH, cAn I CaLl yo DOLlY?!” She asked excitedly.

Her sudden outburst caught me off guard and tickled me. “Yeah, sure. My folks call me that sometimes anyway. But antyways, do you mind tellin’ me...what you are exactly? I mean, I think you know what I am already.”

“Not at all my friend! I like boys and girls.” She said giggling. “And yoooouu gotta crush on my skunky cousin Ash. I’ve seen the way you look at him~”

“W-what?! I don’t be staring at him! You got it all wrong!” My cheeks grew hotter the harder she laughed. “Will you shut it you know that’s not what I meant!”

“So not starin’. Gotcha, glancin’ then? Sneaking peeks maybe?”

“Lil nooo!” I cried hiding my face in my hands. “Are you a demon or a witch?!”

Her phone dinged in her pocket as we reached our dorm and she reached with her good hand to get it and muttered something. “Hey let’s take a quick selfie.”

“Huh?” Before I could stop her, she hugged me and took our picture. Her smiling broadly and me with a half-assed smile that I managed to pull together.

“Look at who claims to not have a crush on you~” she song while texting back.

Oh dear God she’s texting him! “Are you seriou-don’t send him that picture!” I reached for her phone but she skipped ahead of me laughing. “Lil please you’re killing me here!”

“Mm, that’s not how I work, Dolly, I’m a necro.” She said with a bow. “And don’t worry, I’m just texting my dad and showing off my new best friend to him~” She put the phone back in her pocket and opened the door to our building. “But for someone who doesn’t like my cousin you sure seem pretty concerned about what I could’ve sent them.” She said walking in. “Are you sure you don’t like him?”

“Look, I was barely smiling and I look a mess. Honestly NO ONE should see that.” I sighed following behind her.

“Whatever you say Miss Devereux~”

If she’s gonna be my partner, it’s best to start coming clean with her. I looked around the lobby to make sure no one was around. Good, everyone’s still at the party. “It’s Miss Hughes.”

Lil stopped in her tracks and looked at me confused. “...excuse me?”

“My name. I’m...listen, lemme be straight with you.”

“I’m cool with straights but okay, go on.”

I rolled my eyes and folded my arms across my chest. “I know there’s been talk that I’m just some errand girl for KJ and it’s true, more or less, and I wanted you to work with me and if this goes smoothly I wanted you to know my real name. So yeeeah…umm.” Wow, this just got awkward. “...Hi,” I held out a hand towards her to shake. “I’m Annabelle Jacinta Hughes.”

She stared at me blankly first, then she smiled and shook my hand. “Lillith Maebry Piers-Diot, nice to meet you partner.

@orchidalienscribbler @rhikasa @alexprompts y’all finna get mad at me tonight , gonna make ALL the posts😂~

@wiseauthorowl @morganwriteblr figured y’all would like this

[lickstynine]

Oily Jace and the Smol Greasy Bitch (part 1)

A/N: Since @sickandvomiting and I are in love with our 50′s AU of Jace and Elizabeth, and equally in love with brutal whump, we decided to write the story of how Greaser Jace got his scars. I had to change the origin, since a car wreck that severe would’ve just straight-up killed him back then. Anyway, this was really fun to write, so I hope y’all enjoy reading it. Coordinating illustration(s) to come.

Jace felt like he’d been walking for about ten hours, though it had really only been about thirty minutes. Normally his long legs could’ve taken him from the bar to Elizabeth’s place in ten or fifteen, but it was hard to walk quickly when he was actively losing blood. When he’d first stood up, it had been a struggle to ignore the searing pain of several deep cuts. Now he was so lightheaded, the pain was negligible, but his ability to stand was quickly fading. It felt like he’d been trudging through miles of concrete jungle. He was about to give up and lay down in an alley to accept his fate when a familiar sight wobbled before his eyes. Just down the road, Elizabeth’s dilapidated brownstone was visible under a flickering streetlight, its telltale patches of moss and missing brick mercifully familiar.

Jace sighed in relief, sending a fresh jolt of pain through several cuts and some probably-cracked ribs. It stung fiercely, but it woke him up a bit, and he forced himself to keep walking, cursing and fumbling as he scaled the rusty fire escape. His right wrist screamed when he grabbed onto the railing, but he didn’t let go. Just two flights of creaky old stairs, and he’d be safe. By the time he reached Elizabeth’s window, he was one stiff wind away from toppling right back down the fire escape. He leaned heavily on the rail, using his good hand to rap on the glass.

“Ey! Doll face! You up?” Even in this state, Jace knew well enough to whisper. If he woke up Elizabeth’s neighbors, or god forbid, her parents, they’d both be dead.

Momentarily the curtains were drawn back to reveal Elizabeth’s face behind the glass. The grin she wore at the surprise of seeing him quickly faded, however, as she got full sight of him. Blood streamed down his face, neck, and chest, staining his white t-shirt a dark brownish red.

“Jace, what the fuck!!” she hissed, opening the creaky window as quietly as she could. “What happened? Who did this to you?” She tugged on his arm, trying to pull him into the room, but pulled away when he winced sharply.

“I… I can clue you. Kinda.” Jace climbed in the window himself, hissing, wincing, and groaning and eventually just landing face first on the ground. “Shit…”

Elizabeth jumped at the sound, and her hands momentarily flitted to his back before she stood back up and peeked out her door. Good, the hallway was clear. They hadn’t heard.

“Better get to explaining there, honey,” she whispered, closing the door as quietly as possible. She fluttered back to him and helped him to sit upright. “Thank god the floor is wood,” she muttered when she saw the bloodstain left on the scuffed floorboards.

“Sorry.” Jace tried to grin sheepishly, but it was more of a grimace. “I wasn't even tryin’ to start shit this time.”

She gave him a skeptical look.

“I wasn't!” Jace cried, “I was at the bar with the guys, and there were a couple punks hangin’ out nearby... hollerin' at the bartender and just bein' assholes. Leo and Donny had to bail early, so it was just me and Aaron there the rest of the night. It's gettin' late, we're about to head out, and we hear a ruckus over on the far side of the bar. It's those punks from before. They're all over this kitten, they clearly wanna neck 'er and she is not havin’ it.” He paused, waiting for a reaction from Elizabeth. She scrunched her nose distastefully, and he continued.

“So I go over there. I tell 'em to back off unless they wanna knuckle sandwich. Aaron cut out soon as I started talkin'. You know him, he's such a wet rag with that shit. Too scared of gettin' in trouble. But anyway, so I'm tellin' these punks to leave the girl alone, they tell me to get bent and go back to grabbin' at 'er.” Again, Jace paused, and Elizabeth scoffed obligingly.

“So I yanked the closer guy offa her and decked him, and his friend lets go'a the girl to help 'im. At first I was creamin' 'em, like those two were half dead, and then outta the woodwork, like five more guys pop up to help the bastards. But I don't wanna just bail, cause what are they gonna do to that girl if I turn tail like Aaron. So I'm just tryin' to keep my head above water, and one of these nosebleeds breaks a goddamn bottle an' comes at me with it. Nearly cut my fuckin' head off before I kicked it outta his hand. Dunno what I woulda done if the bartender hadn't threatened to call the cops. Jackasses ran off, but it was already past close, so I had to cut out, too. I didn't even see where that girl got off to… I just hope those creeps didn't find her."

Elizabeth just hummed in response, at a loss for words. As he’d been speaking, she had started wiping the blood off his face and neck with a washcloth and the water from her hot water bottle. She paused and met his eyes, and cupped the uninjured side of his face with her hand.

“I’m so sorry that happened, sugar,” she said, wiping a streak of blood and sweat from his cheek with her thumb. “But hey, we match now!” She flashed him a concerned smile, and was pleased when he momentarily grinned back, though the expression quickly morphed into a grimace.

Jace shrugged, his face immediately screwing up in painful regret. “I mean… it was the right thing to do… I think. Maybe I shoulda just butted out...” He sighed, and his good hand flew to his ribs, which were aching much worse than earlier. Any last dregs of adrenaline were long gone by now, and he could feel the edges of the cuts on his chest tugging with every breath. “I'm gonna hafta borrow a shirt from Donny or somethin’... If I come home in this, Mom's gonna flip her lid.”

“Hey, no, it wasn’t your fault. People are just… like that,” she said, resuming her work on his wounds. “I would offer you one of my dad’s shirts, but it would be like me trying to wear a baby onesie,” she added with a chuckle. After a moment, she stopped again. She could see deep down into the whitish yellow viscera in some of the cuts, and while the bleeding was slowing, it wasn’t slowing as quickly as she’d like.

“You should really get to a hospital, Jace,” she murmured. “All I’ve got here is iodine, alcohol, and Rawleigh’s.”

“That should be fine.” Jace shrugged, as if he had a bad paper cut and not a couple pints of blood soaking his shirt.

“It won-” she started loudly, but caught herself and lowered her voice to a whisper again. “It won’t be fine! I can’t take care of this by myself, you need a doctor!”

Jace sighed. “How do you want me to get there, Liz? Aaron picked me up today.”

“I dunno, we could flag down a taxi or something? I don’t have any money though, and I don’t think I can very well ask my parents,” she trailed off. “Besides, I doubt any cab would take us with you lookin’ like this.”

“Yeah, I got money, but…” Jace sighed. He was wracking his brain, trying to figure out who he might be able to call. At first, his vacant gaze seemed thoughtful, but then his eyelids fluttered and he slumped forward against Elizabeth.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she hissed, tapping his face. “Jace, c’mon baby, wake up.” When he didn’t respond, she held his head against the crook of her neck and stroked his hair, swallowing down the newfound panic that was crawling into her throat. “Shit!”

She pushed Jace back against the wall as gently as she could, though his head lolled back and hit the drywall with a hollow thump. She muttered an apology despite the fact that he couldn’t hear it, and stood as quietly as she could, afraid the thud had woken her parents. She listened for a moment, head cocked toward the door—nothing except her mom’s muffled snoring from down the hall.

She made her way to their living room, dancing around the creaky floorboards in a routine that was now muscle memory from repetition. She dialed the number as quietly as she could, wincing every time to rotary dial reset with a click and a metallic ring. When the operator picked up, she gave the number to Jace’s home, and silently hoped upon hope that it would be his dad answering, and not his mom.

The phone rang a few times, and Elizabeth practically collapsed with relief when Vody’s deep voice and clipped accent came through the receiver.

“Hyello? Who this?” He didn't sound angry, luckily, but he was definitely confused. Phone calls at three in the morning rarely meant good news.

“Mr. Romanovich! It’s Elizabeth. Please come to my house, it’s important. Jace is here. Please help.” The words came tumbling out in a rush, accompanied by sudden tears and a choked sob, and she found herself hanging up the phone before he could even open his mouth to respond.

Vody stood over the phone for a moment, dumbfounded as it buzzed in his ear. He could only imagine what Jace had gotten into, but he supposed now wasn't the time to worry about it. Not bothering to throw on real clothes, he simply grabbed his car keys and stepped into the boots he'd left by the front door. It wasn't cold out this time of year, and even if it had been, New York winter was about as cool as a Siberian summer. Despite being clad in only his boxers and a tank top, he strolled shamelessly out to his car, climbing in and gunning it down the road.

The streets weren't as busy this time of night, and it didn't take long for Vody to pull up in front of Elizabeth's brownstone. He parked out front and hurried up to the door, hesitant to actually knock at this hour.

Luckily, the door swung open as soon as he reached the landing; Elizabeth had been listening for him. She held a finger up to her lips and pointed to his feet, and for a moment Vody caught a glint of tears on her cheeks in the dimly lit doorway. He took off his clunky boots and she guided him deftly through the hallway, showing him how to avoid the noisy floorboards. They miraculously made it to her room with minimal sound. There, Jace had slid down the wall and was slumped sideways onto the ground, seemingly lifeless. Elizabeth clamped a hand over her mouth when she reflexively gasped, and after dashing over to him and taking a moment to compose herself, she turned to Vody.

“Please help. He’s hurt bad.”

Vody sighed quietly. He wasn't exactly fazed - he'd seen people in much sorrier states during the war - but that didn't mean he wanted to see his son torn up and bleeding to death. He didn't bother asking questions yet, crouching down to scoop Jace off the ground as carefully as possible. Jace groaned slightly, his eyelids flickering, but he slumped over against Vody's chest as soon as he was picked up. Vody stood up easily, not at all bothered by the weight. Elizabeth hurried to open the door for him, and they crept out to the car in fearful silence.

Once Jace was placed carefully into the passenger seat, Vody climbed back into the driver's, starting the car while Elizabeth hopped into the back. He finally broke the silence, as there was a rather important question to be asked.

“You know where nearest hospital is?”

“Yeah.” She supplied him with the location and the quickest way she knew to get there, and once again fell silent. Her eye was fixed on Jace, and she reached up to squeeze his shoulder. After a few moments she spoke again, this time more quietly.

“I should have called you sooner. I’m sorry. I waited too long.” A sob caught in her throat and she bit it back, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to stem the flow of tears. Nonetheless, they rolled down her face and she ducked out of sight, ashamed of both her inaction which led to this situation, and the way she was currently handling it.

“Hey. You okay. You not nurse. Not trained to take care of hurt people. Freak out is normal. You try to help. That what matter. We go to hospital now. Will be okay.” Vody reached one of his long arms back to gently pat her shoulder.  

“You cold?” He asked tactfully, having been trying not to stare at her very thin nightie for a while now. “Should be blanket somewhere in back.”

“Yeah, thanks,” she said with a sniffle, pulling the worn fleece around her shoulders. “The hospital is right up here,” she added as they turned onto the correct street.

Vody went quiet again as they pulled up in front of the emergency room. He parked right there, rushing around to pick up Jace and carry him inside. The poor nurse at the desk looked horrified, hastily paging the doctor on call. It wasn't long before a stretcher appeared, nurses pushing it and a doctor hurrying alongside. Vody set Jace on the stretcher as carefully as possible, following along without waiting for an invitation as they wheeled off down the hall. He gestured for Elizabeth to come with, fully ready to fight anyone that tried to stop them.

She tagged along behind him, jogging to keep up with their quick pace. She pulled the blanket tighter around her, feeling exposed in the public hallway. She didn’t even bother to gather the ends of it off the floor, instead letting it trail behind her like a sad cape. When they arrived at the room, the nurses stopped both of them, one laying a gentle but firm hand on Vody’s chest.

“You can both stay here and watch, but you have to give us room to work,” she explained. “There’s a waiting area down the hall, too,” she added, though it was more of a suggestion than an additional detail.

“We’re staying. We’ll stay out of your way,” Elizabeth stated.

Vody nodded firmly. He wasn't going anywhere until he knew Jace would be okay. He leaned on the wall, sighing quietly as he watched nurses frantically slice away Jace's clothes and work to staunch the wounds that were still trickling blood. When the doctor got to work, Vody finally looked down at Elizabeth.

“What happened?” His voice was softer and more subdued than Elizabeth had ever heard, the mischievous twinkle long gone from his eye.

“Some punks gave him a beating when he tried to help out a girl they were harassing,” she said, her gaze never leaving Jace. There was so much blood. She reached blindly for Vody’s hand, and ended up latching onto his arm with trembling fingers. He put an arm around her, strong and sturdy. There was a long sigh followed by silence as he pondered his response. He didn't want to say Jace should've left the girl to be harassed, but he couldn't think of a better solution either. It was just a shit situation. He sighed again, low and heavy.

“Am trying to decide if I should call his mother. Obviously, will tell her either way, but... Don't know if better to go home and talk later, or call now.”

“Jace wouldn’t want her to worry,” Elizabeth replied. “He didn’t want you to worry either,” she added after a second.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Vody snorted. “He seriously think he just going to come home and pretend he fine?” He shook his head. “Too much like me.”

Elizabeth found herself chuckling along with him. “I think he really believed he could just waltz in and no one would notice a thing. He’s a real dipstick sometimes…”

Vody nodded, a smile flickering on his face. It faded quickly, and he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “Have cigarettes in car. I go get. You stay, watch him.”

As he turned to leave, Elizabeth caught his hand and he paused.

“He’s gonna be okay, Mr. Romanovich.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “He always is. He has to be.”

Vody forced a smile for her. “He have you. That help.” He trudged off down the hall, ignoring the strange look he got from a passing nurse.

As promised, he returned a few minutes later with a lighter and a pack of cigarettes in hand, one already lit in his mouth. He held them out to Elizabeth without a word. She took one and allowed him to light it for her as she puffed, blowing a small cloud of smoke against the glass of the ICU room wall. The scene seemed to drag on for far too long, with an alarming amount of blood and sharp tools. Easily the most gruesome was an incision the doctor made between two ribs, inserting a tube to drain blood from the chest cavity. Even Vody grimaced at the sight. Between him and Elizabeth, the pack of cigarettes was quickly depleting.

Eventually, the doctor came out to talk to them. He explained that they had patched up all the cuts, but they wanted to keep an eye on Jace for a while, since some of the wounds were deep, with one having nicked his small intestine, and another puncturing his left lung. They were going to take him for x-rays now that he wasn't going to bleed out on the radiologist, and do further repairs once they knew for sure what was broken. Vody nodded along, listening closely but at a loss for words.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Elizabeth replied in his stead. As he left, she turned to Vody and grabbed his large palm. “Hear that? He’s gonna be okay.”

Vody sighed, nodding half-heartedly. “Da.” He leaned against the wall, slowly sinking down until he was sitting on the floor. It honestly looked a bit ridiculous - a giant man, smudged with blood, wearing work boots and heart-print boxers, sitting on the pristine hospital tile. He had told himself he was going to be calm. He was the father here, he had to be responsible and take care of things. At the same time, it took all his self-control to stay quiet and composed. He felt like an idiot. A failure. A fuck-up. Had he raised Jace to be too much like himself? Should he have been keeping a closer eye on his son? How the fuck did this even happen? He sighed deeply, and it wobbled as he choked down a sob.

“Mr. Romanovich?” Elizabeth questioned, hearing the slight tremble in his breath. She laid her hand on his shoulder hesitantly, unsure of what to do.

“Hm?” Vody didn't dare to look up; he felt pathetic. He was sitting on the floor crying, being comforted by a little girl. The hallway was far too silent to miss his sniffles, and his face burned red with embarrassment.

Without a word, Elizabeth stepped into the now empty ICU room and rooted around for a bit before discovering a cache of blankets. She brought one out and draped it around Vody’s shoulders before sliding down to the floor next to him and resting the side of her head against his arm. Sniffling quietly, he patted her hair in silent gratitude.

“He’s okay,” she whispered. It felt as though any sound in the quiet hall would break the thin barrier keeping their emotions at bay, and she closed her eyes as the words dissipated against the white walls.

Vody kept a sturdy arm around Elizabeth, awake and alert as much as he didn't want to be. He was too on edge to even consider spacing out - it felt like if he blinked, he might open his eye to a doctor leading them down to the morgue. Of course, that wasn't the case, and after a while, a nurse came to talk to them. She explained that they'd found several breaks, but luckily, none were compounded. They'd had to put screws into Jace's wrist, since he'd fucked up the alignment of the bones pretty badly (likely trying to climb the fire escape), and they wanted to keep a close eye on his ribs, to make sure they didn't interfere with the healing of his lung. Despite this seemingly endless list of awful news, she assured them that Jace was expected to recover completely; he would just need care and rest for a while.

“He’s stable now, I can take you to his room if you like?”

Vody nodded, scrambling to his feet and helping Elizabeth up as well. He hurried after the nurse as she guided them to a simple patient room. Jace was sprawled out on the bed, his lanky legs mere inches from drooping off the edge. His wrist was wrapped heavily in plaster and bandages, and his arms and torso were covered in fresh stitches, including particularly nasty gashes across his left pectoral and below his navel. The tube was still in his chest, and he was attached to a delightful assortment of monitors to track his vitals. The entire right side of his face was covered in bandages, with a long line of stitches and a patchwork of bruises on the other cheek.

Vody couldn't help cringing at the sight. Somehow this was almost worse than the gorey mess earlier. Maybe because he could no longer tell himself it was just the blood everywhere that made it seem so bad, or maybe because he'd never seen Jace look so weak and vulnerable. It felt wrong, and Vody couldn't help feeling responsible. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, but hesitated, not wanting to jostle Jace or mess up any of the equipment.

Elizabeth had no such anxieties, and rushed to his side. She brushed a strand of hair off the exposed side of his face, fingers tracing along his brow, then down his jawline. They lingered momentarily on his lips, and she smiled sadly when she felt his warm breath on them. It reminded her that he would be okay. Jace stirred slightly at her touch, letting out a soft groan. Vody perked up at once, watching them closely.

“Jace?” she whispered. “You awake?”

Jace's eyelids fluttered, and he squinted against the bright hospital lights. His vision was hazy, but the massive mane of dark curls hovering over him was unmistakable. “Hey, doll face… how goes it?”

“Oh, just peachy,” she replied with a chuckle that ended in a stifled sob. Tears began rolling soundlessly down her cheeks as she took his face in both hands and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Welcome back to the land of the living,” she added, voice thick with emotion.

“Didn't miss it as much as I thought I would. Shit hurts.” Jace was trying to be light-hearted, but even faking a smile made him grimace. He patted the mattress beside him with his good hand. “C'mere, there's space for your skinny little ass.” That brought a more genuine smirk out of him, followed by a grunt of pain. Every movement seemed to hurt, even just talking. “Christ alive, they got any drugs in this quack shack or do I just get to sit here suffering?”

“You’re already on enough to send any of us normal folk to cloud nine,” she said, hesitating and shooting a glance in Vody’s direction. “But you’re a pretty big cat too, so you can probably handle some more. I’ll go get the nurse, leave you two alone for a moment.” With a quick pivot, she scampered away, leaving the room in a breathless silence as Jace’s good eye focused slowly on his father.

“Shit.” Even as he'd realized he was in the hospital, Jace had still naively hoped his parents hadn't found out. He was clearly panicked, stumbling over his words as he tried to explain himself. “Okay so, ya see, the thing is-”

Vody cut him off. “Hush. Miss Lizbeth told me everything. You think I'm mad at you, Jason?” He was almost laughing as he said it.

“Well… kinda?” Jace admitted. He didn't even have a good reason for why. He'd just assumed that going out, being rowdy, and getting into trouble meant his parents would be pissed.

“Did you start fight?” Vody asked plainly.

“Not really… I mean… I threw the first punch, but I was just tryna get those creeps offa that poor girl!” Jace tried to sit up, naturally getting animated as he defended himself. He promptly fell back on the pillows with a grimace.

“Then why would I be mad?”

Jace paused, looking up at his father for a moment as he thought. “...I dunno.”

Now Vody couldn't help laughing. “Too much my son, you are…” He plunked down on the foot of the bed, patting Jace's knee gently. “I not mad at you. Was worried, of course. But I not mad. Your mother…” Vody sighed, knowing Serafina likely wouldn't be happy about Jace getting in a fight, even one most people would consider justified. “I will talk to your mother.”

Jace cringed. “Do you have to tell Mom?”

Vody snorted. “Well, yes. How am I explain broken hand and stitches face?”

“...right. Good point.” Jace sighed. He really didn't want to have to talk to Serafina, even if Vody talked to her first. He got distracted from his worries when Elizabeth walked back in with a nurse, who approached Jace with another syringe and inserted it into his IV tube.

“Just a little more morphine. We don’t want to go overboard,” the nurse said with a small smile, which Elizabeth returned as the nurse left the room.

Jace visibly relaxed as the meds hit his system, and Elizabeth found herself laughing. “Naturally, you beat up some goons, get totaled, and end up high as a kite on the good stuff.” She took his hand in hers, careful to avoid the bandages and stitching. “Fucking beatnik.” She raised an eyebrow when he smirked at her, no longer wincing at the movement.

“Look,” he grinned, “this wasn't how I planned to spend my Friday night. The beat life chose me.”

“It's Saturday morning. Has been for while now.” Vody chimed in.

“Shit, is it?” Jace looked at his wrist as if he ever wore a watch.

“Da. Sun came up hour ago.” Vody confirmed.

“Ah, shit…” Jace smiled apologetically at Elizabeth. “Sorry baby. Normally, I try to make our all-nighters a little more fun.”

“Jace!” Elizabeth hissed through clenched teeth and leaned in conspiratorially. “Your father is in here with us, shut up!” She flashed Vody a sheepish smile and clamped a hand as gently as she could over Jace’s mouth when he started to speak again.

Vody just chuckled. “Your secret safe with me. He not get habits from his mother.” He sighed. “Who I probably need go talk to. Wish luck.”

“Slay the dragon!” Jace encouraged, muffled by Elizabeth's hand, who flashed Vody another apologetic grin.  

As soon as Vody left the room, Elizabeth whirled on him in mock outrage.

“You knucklehead! Sayin’ shit like that in front of the old man,” she muttered, climbing up onto the bed with him. “You really are the most, aren’t ya?”

“Baby, I'm more than the most.” Jace grinned, slinging his less-damaged arm around her. “Like your nightgown, by the way. Meant to tell ya earlier, but I was busy… y'know… bleedin’ out.” He laughed, drowning in far too much morphine to be worried about his mortality.

She curled into his chest with a snort, tactfully avoiding his more grievous wounds, and gently kissed his collarbone before laying her head down and falling silent, listening to the steady beat of his heart and feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breath.

“You really scared us, you know,” she said finally. “Us meaning him too. He was terrified.”

Jace snorted derisively. “You're pullin' my leg. I've never seen Dad scared.”

“Really, babe. Like, really really.”

Jace furrowed his brows, seeming to be in serious thought for possibly the first time ever. He didn't say anything for a while, then quietly ventured, “How bad do I look?”

“Like how I imagine someone might look after a tiger attack. Which is to say, pretty damn bad.” She fell silent for a moment, then quietly added “Scary bad, honestly.” Her hand trailed slowly along the edge of his bandages, mapping out the new tracks it would have to follow.

Jace cringed. She hadn't even tried to sugarcoat it - it was too bad to bother. He'd been considering asking for a mirror, but now he was honestly afraid. “Oh… shit.” As stupid as it was, he couldn't help being more worried about his appearance than his health. Cuts would recover. Good looks… not so much.

Elizabeth lifted her head to face him, and found his eyes darting down to assess the damage for himself, slight panic beginning to show in his face when he saw exactly how many injuries there were, their centers stained a deep browning red.

“Hey, don’t do that. Not yet,” she said, lifting his chin with two fingers and tilting it toward her face. “Not yet…” She smiled sadly when his good eye finally focused on hers, and she kissed his brow. Jace tried to force a smile, but it didn't stick. He wasn't sure if it was the stress or the drugs, but he was struggling to focus. Thoughts were spinning around like a whirlwind in his head, and the bed no longer felt steady beneath him. He squeezed his eyes shut with a tense sigh.

“You’re okay, baby,” Elizabeth said, rearranging herself so that his head could rest on her chest instead. “I’ve got you.” She carded a hand slowly through his hair. The nurses had washed the blood and product out of it to get him cleaned up before the surgery, and it was soft under her hand.

“Just sleep. We’ll deal with whatever comes up tomorrow. For now, just sleep.” She continued her gentle ministrations, and when his good eye remained wide open, head spinning with endless possibilities, each less desirable than the last, she started humming. Gently, sweetly. A stupid little song that they’d heard in a jukebox when they first met. After a while, his eyes fluttered shut as the morphine made the thoughts indecipherable and he stopped trying to think, and stopped trying not to think. Instead, he just let himself be, and feel Elizabeth’s hands in his hair, the warmth of her body, and sound of her voice. And eventually, he was lulled into a deep but peaceless sleep.

[westcoastbroadway1443]

Be More Notes: my very long ramblings on BMC as I finally listen to the whole thing

Ok!  I’m finally doing it!  Now that the cast album is out I’m going to really give all of Be More Chill a listen, try to put the things that annoy me about the show aside, and give it a fair chance.  And have decided to do running commentary here for the nobody who gives a shit lol.  Going in I wanna say I’ve heard 4 full songs and random bits of other songs from the original soundtrack.  And I’ll be listening now to the OBC album plus watching a b**tlg, I’m not totally sure when it took place I just know Will Roland is in it so at the very least New York.  Keep in mind whatever I think of this show, if I end up hating it, if you like it you’re right.  My opinion in no way invalidated anybody else’s or is above anyone else’s in my eyes, frankly I don’t enjoy not liking things, it just means I don’t get to come to the party and that’s not fun.  So I might be poking fun at the show sometimes but if this speaks to you, that is fucking awesome!  Also I’m old now and I guess no longer the target audience for stuff like this.  

Spoilers for those who haven’t watched the show and don’t want to know stage stuff because I’ll be commenting on that.  This ended up being really long, eh.  

More Than Survive -ok this song I’ve heard before, and it both turned me off the show and also made me respect the hell out of it, because much like I give a salute to Black Mirror having the balls to make pig sex their pilot, I salute a musical that starts with jerking off -So far like Roland a little more than the previous guy.  From what I’ve gathered from clips, while that dude is hella talented and cute as a button I kind of buy Roland as a terrified, desperate, frustrated high school kid more   -Man I really do dig the hell out of the score and there is no denying this is catchy but some of these lyrics are so cringe -WHY IS A TEEN IN 2019 REFERENCING JOE PESCI?! -Ok I love the idea of a short bully calling somebody “tall ass” -I do like Jeremy’s body language better in this one. Also does he vocally remind anyone else of Max from Goofy Movie?  Maybe this song just reminds me  of “After Today” for no reason. -“super pimp” “mac daddy game”....OK!  I’m going to try not to list every time I cringe.  I just have questions -You don’t  want to be Clooney...high school child in 2019 is Clooney really your reference for cool?  Sorry I just struggle with this stuff because I keep hearing how this show is so in touch with kids these days but I just see:

-lol Michael came on and people went apseshit in the audience.  All my nitpicks aside I bet this room probably has some great energy. -..Michael the clerk at 7/11 doesn’t pour your slushie, it’s self serve.  Are you trying to seem cool to Jeremy right now? -Aah the boyfriend backpacks.  I know of this ship -Yeah Christine brings the flutes!!!  I was a flute player, we never get love -HAHA when Christine is doing her weird ass dance, in the recording I’m watching somebody right in front of the person recording just went “I don’t get this show”.  Like me too darlin, but you got 2 hours left so suck it up -Oh but sir, check the playbill.  The story is indeed about you -in summation this song kind of encapsulates everything I feel about this show, good performances and catchy as fuck and musically interesting and a lot of me asking “why”.

Play Rehearsal   -Well Christine is adorable -wow wait what?  wtf was that weird self harm comment???  Are we just gonna skip that??? -Ok I was a band kid in HS so I guess I don’t get this level of extra.  Band rehearsal is just tuning and then fucking around until somebody makes you play Bach -...is Christine ok??? -Ok I think at least for now I may hate her.  But I like that Jeremy likes her, likes her passion and such.  I approve of her conceptually!  I just don’t wanna be around her -I thought play rehearsal was gay, Rich?!  WHAT YOU DOIN AT PLAY REHEARSAL RICH?! -...I mean I’ve seen Romeo and Juliet as a zombie wasteland movie, I would watch Midsummer zombies

More Than Survive Reprise -”least I didn’t have a breakdown and have to go the nurse” Ok fair, I can relate to that high school experience -this set is kind of working for me, basic but fun and the floor is neat -I know high school bullies are a thing I guess? But I always just saw them in movies?  Now Middle School bullies were legit and terrible and I got the shit kicked out of me, but by HS I feel like everybody was too into their own shit to care much about anyone else??  Maybe that was just my school -Will Roland’s body language is real good in this show

The Squip Song -Oh!  Surprise Rich lisp. Creative way to show how this thing alters you -..ok now we know about Rich’s dick size.  I mean hon your short, maybe your penis is just proportionate?   -DO I DETECT SOME THEREMIN IN THIS ORCHESTRATION?!   Gimme all the theremin!   -Ok so the squip made him be an asshole?  Does he secretly want to be buddies with Jeremy? -Ok what the fuck are the people in the background doing here?!? -I know people ship Michael and Jeremy but I feel like Rich kinda wants to jump that tall ass??

Two Player Game -Ok the little sign for the game that came up was cute -These guys are kinda cute, even if I wish they’d tone down Michael’s “I’M QUIRKY!!  YOU GET IT?!?” shtick -That is accurate!  Y’all will be cool in college and I don’t see that brought up often -This is the first time I’ve found the choreography fun   -...why is this dad allergic to pants?? -ah.  Depression=no pants.  And now I get why Jeremy’s so desperate not to stay as he is.  Well points for making it not just about the girl -awww Michael is his bae -bro I’ve heard Loser Geek Whatever, you’re tellin lies right now to your buddy -LOL!  WTF IS THIS WINDOWS SCREENSAVER OF A VIDEO GAME?!? -oh wow dancin went off the rails here at the end

Squip Enters -Mountain Dew?  Well, better than Surge I guess.   -Ok the Ecto Cooler line legit made me laugh.  And I guess I could come down on the show for making Michael psyched about a drink that came out before he was born, but I have a pretty intense Crystal Pepsi obsession and that shit came out when I was maybe 4?  So I get it Michael, you go enjoy your liquid ghosts -well that squip thing doesn’t look fun -Oooooh Ok Keanu is like factory setting, alright I’ll accept this.  Though I will say this show would be 35% better if he was dressed like Keanu from Bill and Ted

Be More Chill Prt 1 -Hey stop shitting on Jeremy.  I think I kinda like him -wow Keanu, I didn’t think you’d be so mean -I mean everyone chanting “everything about you sucks” is just how peeps with anxiety feel constantly.  Eminem shirt ain’t gonna fix that -”Jerry-me” ok Will Roland is kind of making this work for me.   -Him repeating everything the squip said is a fun little sequence.  Like I dig this conceptually, scifi musicals are rare and can be neat - Lol the hate who they hate thing is pretty accurate

Do You Wanna Ride? -hey Jeremy what about Christiiiiine

Be More Chill Part 2 -the beginning of this song broke me a little.  Hey!  I’m feelin a thing! -this song is pretty fun!  It works!   -though the cast of like 10 people that just keep putting on different wigs make it feel like a high school play or a starkid production

Sync Up -ok so now I know I’m watching previews?  Because sync up isn’t here -I do think this song is a really good addition.  I mean it’s not like a stand out fantastic song but it does a good job getting across the themes and drives home the whole “everybody has problems” thing too which I like -Ok..dairy line was weird.  

A Guy I Could Kinda Be Into -Ok the weird girl fighting stuff about Jake is unpleasant and sort of unnecessary -a squip gives you a deep voice and the ability to kinda do accents.  Cool -ooo this is catchy, this is gonna make the spotify playlist -the goofy background hearts are cute.  I still don’t know why she’s into Jake or why she’s friends with Jeremy or if they should be together since legit the only thing she thinks they have in common is theater which he doesn’t care about..but this song is still cute -lol squips understand friend zone

Upgrade -DID THIS SHOW JUST KILL EMINEM?! -How did the squip know that?!  Does Eminem have a squip??  I mean it kinda makes sense.. -Don’t you see Jerbear?! The key to popularity is in this girl’s vagina!  Happy they cut the “I’ll tenderly guide you just take me inside you” thing, little creepy -Why did Jake make a kicking motion to illustrate cricket?  I’m like 85% sure Jake doesn’t know what cricket is... -the “feel all the feels” like is a little goofy but I really like the rewrite for this song, showing some depth of character.  Good job, show!  And I’m seeing some chemistry between these two, but I don’t know if I’m meant to? -Oh no!  The whole “you looked at me” thing from Brooke was so sweet and sad.  And the player two thing.  Yeah this OG version of this song can go fuck off, the rewrite is a really good tune.  I’ll admit the original maybe built up the horror a little, the squip sounds more threatening coming in at the end but I like where there going making this about everyone and not just Jeremy

Loser Geek Whatever -Squip blocked Michael??  You’re a dick, Keanu Reeves -I didn’t love this song when I first heard the single but hearing the version on the album and the stripped down piano version, I really really like it.  Gives me some of those old geek feels from back in the day -sort of surprise by how little is happening on stage though?  I sort of assumed something was happening as the song built?  But nope, just Will rocking his wee heart out -LOL!  What is Squip’s new outfit???

Halloween -Ah, it’s this show Big Fun.  This is a lot catchier than Big Fun though -I went to exactly one of these kinds of parties in HS, just replace Halloween with punks after a rock show and add a lot more drugs.  I didn’t hide in a bathroom but I did hide next to the stairs until my mom came and got me.  Memories!!  You know what this show is succeeding I suppose, it’s making me have HS feels -...is Jake dressed as Thomas Jefferson? -Jenna you’re too cute for that costume.  You should get to wear something sexy too!  Unless you just dig clowns in which case enjoy yourself hon -Ooooooh Prince, I get it -this is not this show’s fault at all but I struggle with dancing in shows.  I mean the title of my blog is The Girl Who Used to Hate Musicals because I did, and while I love them now extended dancing sequences still take me out of a show real fast.  I know I’m in the minority here -...what the fuck is that weird fuzzy thing with the big teeth -Hot damn!  Go Rich!  Dancin fool

Do You Wanna Hang? -I don’t like any part of this plot line... -Ok!  Didn’t realized she was dressed like a “sexy baby” so the diaper line sort of horrified me.  I mean it still does!  I just understand it now

Michael in the Bathroom -hey the bathtub!  Ok I know enough to know what happens now -Jeremy why you gotta be so mean -I mean what is there to say, great song.  I wondered if they’d change anything for the new recording and I dig the arrangement, especially the stripped down acoustic guitar and piano parts!! Also as a lady who maybe once or twice since discovering this song has gotten tipsy and sung it karaoke-like, appreciate the slower and the higher.  It’s not a lot, just a bit, but makes it less of a struggle to match.  Thanks bro!

A Guy That I’d Kinda Be Into (Reprise) -Finally!  They’re both giant doofs but I see some connection!  And I mean my roommate and I have noises we always make at each other like a call and response, so I gets it -He asked it!  So proud.  Rejected but proud of the boy, and rejected for good reasons

The Smartphone Hour -Heard part of this song before.  Really like this Jenna more than original Jenna, her performance was a little much for me -This is one of those songs where I really do feel like I’m watching a HS original production..but a good one?  Maybe cause I haven’t seen something like this on Broadway, but that’s a good thing.  Always good to see new kinds of things on Broadway -lol what is the middle of this song?!  I feel like I’m suddenly watching a cheer squad or like a John Waters inspired musical, which from what little I know of Joe Iconis I think he’d be cool with that comparison

The Pants Song -Jeremy don’t be mean to your dad! -Yipes is this the Break in a Glove or Dead Gay Son of BMC?? -....yeah it totally is -”Do you love him??” Has Jeremy’s dad finally given up on finding a girl in Jeremy’s room? -Ok ok I’m gettin the ship

The Pitiful Children -So squip just looks like this now, I thought maybe he was just being fancy for Halloween -Hot damn Jenna!  Why were we savin that voice?! -I feel like I’m missing something with these weird hand motions the squip is always, do they actually mean something? -goosestepping...alright.  Oh no Jeremy did the hand motions, I think that means a thing

The Play -Jeremy is being so creepy but he means well?  I guess?   -lol using the play to spread the squips is pretty clever -wtf red mountain dew?  Really?  You know what fuck it, discontinued drinks for the win.  Maybe my saved bottles of Crystal Pepsi will stop an apocalypse one day! -Michael’s entrance was cute, and hey he just happens to have code red.  I wish ecto cooler was what shut it off. -The glitching voice is crazy when Jeremy is fighting Michael and I love the way Jeremy is sort of bobbing up and down in fighting stance like a video game character,  Fun touch -squip is making Jeremy go all Idle Hands! -I prefer the recording version of the guys making up, the whole “I just wanted to be liked” “I just wanted to be seen” thing -the squip has to be so extra even in death

Voices in My Head -hey lispy Rich is back!  And bi now I guess? -Oh is that why people think Michael/Jeremy are a thing?  The squip blocked Rich’s bi thoughts from him and it blocked Michael from Jeremy’s vision?  I mean it would be an interesting story, I’d take it. -This might be my favorite song and I don’t really know why, I don’t super love that Jeremy still gets Christine in the end but I just love how this song sounds -I’ve never heard a character wearing pants get an applause? -improved lyrics in the Broadway version, and since it got more into the popular kids as people you can kinda see why they’d still stay friend with Jeremy -”I’ll throw you a rope home slice if you need some dope advice” like is this parody?  What is this??  Well..still my fav song despite this line.  A line they liked so much it’s the one original popular kid line they kept in the new version??? -don’t know if I see much future for these two, but Jeremy’s reaction to the kiss was cute -”Of the voices in my head the loudest one is mine” is my favorite line of the show -lol Rich’s little sneak hug.  I feel like Rich always wanted to be friends with Jeremy?  Or had a crush on him and that’s why his squip made him beat Jeremy up?  Is this pairing a thing?

Final thoughts:  This was so stupid long, nobody read this but that’s ok!  It was fun to take notes anyway.  Listening to it all, I liked it more than I thought I would, especially with the lyric changes.  I don’t know if I would like it as much if it wasn’t Will Roland, the dude just really made this character likable when he could very easily not be.  Some of the lines still bug me, there’s still a lot of cringe here but there’s also a lot of good stuff.  This show introduced me to Joe Iconis and I’m slowly falling in love with him from his other work and CANNOT WAIT for Broadway Bounty Hunter because that sounds so like my jam.  Overall I do get why people like this show, especially younger people because you can relate to the characters but maybe you want something a little peppier than DEH.   I don’t think this is a soundtrack I’m going to ever listen to all the way through, but I’m for sure grabbing a handful of songs and sticking them on my musical play list.  And when this thing goes on tour and ends up in LA, I think it would probably be worth checking out if I can, looks like a fun watch.  Though with all the young fans and internet fans if they’re smart they’re gonna record this bitch.

[marblesarelost]

Some Things You Have To Work For (don’t give up on the dream)

                                           CHAPTER THREE

“’Ro?”

“Yes, Laura?”

“Would you answer a why, please?”

“A question.  Certainly, if I can.”  

“Whyfor is the words from Lo-gan on Laura silver, and the words from Kurt golden?”

Ororo took a deep breath, handing Laura a plate to dry.  Logan and Kurt had been called away on a mission, and the two were alone.  “Soulmarks come in two colors,” she began.  “Silver means platonic, a deep, abiding love but not one that is particularly…romantic.”

“And golden means mating.”  Laura’s tone was very matter of fact as she looked up at Ororo.  “You and Lo-gan’s are golden.”

“Yes,” Ororo said, shrugging.  The girl was at least sixteen, the tests said so; she needed to talk about sex.  It was healthy.  “Logan and I are lovers.”

“Does that mean…Kurt…”

“If you both want to, yes,” Ororo agreed.  “But, and I want you to listen to me very carefully now; you are not old enough, according to the law, to make those decisions, especially since Kurt is thirty.  He is an adult, you are not.”

“Is mating fun?”

“I…” Ororo huffed.  “Not mating. Mating is what animals do.  Humans have sex, or make love.”

“Does the golden words mean never can have sex with anyone else?”  Laura asked, and Ororo shook her head.

“No. But they do mean that if you should ever decide to have sex with Kurt, that you may bond.  And bonding is…it’s a psychic link with the other half, a magic and a mystery that no one really understands.”  She struggled to put it into words…”Once you bond with your soulmate,” she said, her voice gentling, “you will never be alone.  Not truly.  No matter whether he is on the other side of the world, or the other side of the galaxy.  He is always there, always a part of you, always.”

“And when Laura dies, or Kurt dies?  What happens?”  Ororo swallowed hard; that was something she did not like thinking of.  Logan’s mutant gifts meant he might be all but immortal, and they had had long, painful discussions about what had happened when his former soulmates, gray faded words on his back and cheek, hidden behind his sideburns, had died.  And since Laura seemed to have Logan’s powers…

“It will hurt,” Ororo replied at last.  “It will hurt very, very badly.  You will do better to ask Logan about that; he has…he has lived through it before.”

“Laura will,” Laura agreed, her face solemn.  “It is a thing that has to have talking about.  Because missions are danger.”

“Missions are dangerous, you’re right.  But Kurt is very good at what he does, and so is Logan.  And so am I.”  Tentatively, Ororo reached out, placing one hand on Laura’s shoulder and drawing the girl close.  “We will do all we can to ensure that that doesn’t happen, Laura.”

“But it does.  Death happens.  Happens lots. Accident happens, bad timing, can’t always count on luck, have to be good, have to be better than good, have to be best.  Or take dirt nap.”  She jerked under Ororo’s hand, shoulders trembling.  “Sorry, sorry, sorry.  Bad…thoughts from before.”

“Memories,” Ororo supplied.  “Did…did the people who had you before…did they have you go on missions, Laura?” She hadn’t talked much about her past to anyone, save that she didn’t want or like doctors, and didn’t trust them at all; she had subconsciously popped all six of her claws while watching  her tablet at the sight of a doctor in a white coat, though it had been a children’s show.

Laura nodded jerkily, looking down at the sink.  “Laura and Trainer.  Trainer for back up.  Laura…Laura succeeded, every time, but hard not good much to learn.”

“I know,” Ororo agreed softly.  “It is hard to learn to fight.  And,” she paused, swallowing.  “To kill.”

“Laura does not like it.  Not…not like they wanted her to.”

“No. I don’t think you did.”  Slowly, Ororo rubbed Laura’s arm in what she meant as a soothing gesture.  “Most people don’t.”

“Some do.”  The whisper was small, and Ororo was sure that if she’d had her head turned the other way, she never would have heard it at all.

“Kurt doesn’t.  Logan…usually…doesn’t.  He enjoys fighting.  But most of the time, he does not enjoy killing.”

“Fighting can be fun,” Laura said, and Ororo chuckled.

“I have enjoyed it a time or two myself.  But Laura…you know, don’t you, that no one will make you join the teams?” Laura looked up, puzzlement on her face. “The X-Men, Laura.  If you do not wish to fight, no one will make you.”

“No…no, Laura wants to help.  Laura is good at fighting, that is not what makes the thoughts at night.  Laura is…” she frowned, a slight growl rising from her throat, one that Ororo and Logan had learned meant she was frustrated. “Laura does not know.  Laura worries right now, Kurt is not near, Lo-gan is not near.  Laura is afraid because they are fighting, and Laura is not there to protect them, to help them.”

“Oh, darling, I know.”  Ororo’s grip tightened a bit on Laura’s arm.  “I know.  And Logan’s hotheaded, he’ll just rush into things, and Kurt will follow him, because they are soulmates, too, silvers.  But so far, they have always come home; I have no doubt they will come home this time, too.”

“Almost there!”

Shadowcat’s voice rang in Logan’s earpiece as he ducked a punch, swung his fist up into the guard’s gut and popped his claws, twisting his fist before bringing it back out, popping them back again.  “Might wanna hurry,” he muttered, knowing that she would hear. “We’re gonna have comp’ny real soon, darlin’.”

“Not long.  Two minutes.”

“Two real minutes or two Kitty minutes?”  Gambit asked, and Logan chuckled soundlessly as he prowled up the corridor, watching for more guards.  An old scent pricked at his nostrils, and he laid his head against the wall, smelling the layers of scent.

“Aww, hell,” he growled.  “Elf.”

“Ja?” Kurt answered.

“They had her here a while back.  Kitten, look for Little Bit in those files, pull those, we might need’em.”

“Copy,” Shadowcat answered.  “Nightcrawler?”

“Ja.” An edge had entered into Kurt’s voice, an edge that Logan’s lips pulled back from his teeth in a shallow imitation of pleasure to hear.

“Should I give the drive to you, then, and you can get it home, or --“

“Nein. Wolverine and I will cover the extraction,” Nightcrawler answered tersely.  “Wolverine, your coordinates, please.”

“Hallway K, intersection 19.  Don’t damn jump, Elf, got hostiles.”

“Understood.  After, then?”

“Yeh. After.”  

Logan and Kurt watched from a few miles away as the facility burst into flames, the explosion rippling the ground under their feet.  “What do you think Kitty found?”  Kurt said, squatting down, his eyes bright in the moonless night.

“No tellin’.  Ain’t none of it gonna be good, though.”  Logan spat to the right.  “Fuckin’ assholes.”

“Nein. None of it will be good.”  Kurt’s fist rose and fell, punching the desert sand. “Unt I am not -- not sure --“

“Don’t know how you’ll take it, just know you need t’know it.  Yep.”  Logan took a cigar from his inner pocket, popped a match.  “Sucks.”

“Jawohl.”

“She’s safe at home, though.  ‘Ro’s with her, ain’t nobody gettin’ hold of Lil’ Bit again.”

“I would feel better if she were at the mansion.”

“Yep. Me, too.  But she ain’t ready for all the folks.  We know that.  She’s fine now.  Far as I’m concerned, she always will be.”  Logan drew the smoke deeply into his lungs, reveling in the burn.  “Y’all might have to not live at th’ mansion.  She ain’t never gonna be real good with folks.”

“No. No, I know that.  But that is something we can worry about in the future.” Nightcrawler rose.  “Shall we go?”

“Ready when you are, pard.”

The sun was just beginning to brighten as the two entered the cabin, both careful of the noise; Laura and Ororo were snuggled together on the couch under Wolverine’s plaid blanket, Grimm’s Fairy Tales a few inches from Ororo’s outstretched hand.

“Ain’t that a picture,” Logan muttered, and Kurt smiled.

“It is what we fight for,” he said quietly.  Laura began to stir, her nose flaring several times before her eyes fluttered slowly open.

“Lo-gan,” she mumbled.  “Kurt.”

“Yep. We’re home, Li’l Bit.  Come on, let’s get you and y’mama to bed now.” Logan crossed the room, stopping to kiss Ororo’s forehead.  “Come on, darlin’.  It ain’t but a little after five, let’s all go to bed till noon.”

“I would not argue with you,” Ororo said sleepily, stretching as Logan helped Laura up.  She wobbled a bit, but stood up and hugged him tightly.

“Kurt?”  She said as Logan grasped Ororo’s hands, pulling her to her feet.  “May I please to have a hug?”

“Of course,” Kurt agreed with a glance to Logan; he seemed wrapped up in ‘Ro at the moment, so he took the few steps to allow the girl to wrap her arms around him. She smelled…oh, she smelled lovely, like honey and pears and cream…

“Ro-Ro.  The nice purple and white flowers again?”  Laura asked, her voice slightly muffled as her nose grazed Kurt’s neck.

“Ah…lilacs,” Ororo provided.

“You smell as lilacs,” Laura told him, pulling away and looking up.  “Good smells.”

“Thank you,” Kurt managed to wrangle from his suddenly tight throat.  And he was the great romancer?  Ye gods.  But she was his best friend’s….daughter, of course it was awkward…

“Come on.  Bedtime,” Logan ordered.  

“I am glad you are home safe, too,” Laura said softly, then padded toward the hallway, followed by Logan and Ororo, leaving Kurt in the living room by himself. He bedded down on the couch, his tail flicking lazily, and laid awake for a long time before finally drifting off to sleep.

@crow821 @logurtproject

[samingtonwilson]

Marriage Material - Part 11 - Jim Kirk

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

Summary: in this chapter, just some dinner between friends.

Warnings: language

A/N: nothing really happens here, there’s just a lot of love n a lot denying love. forgive any typos, i’ve been without sleep for like 2 days now

Tucked into your favorite corner of the commissary, you turned in your seat and stretched your legs out to place atop the chair beside yours. You crossed them at the ankle, leaning your back against the wall behind you. You tipped your nose to the ceiling, your head softly hitting the wall as well. Your heavy eyelids slipped a centimeter lower.

A loud snort had you lurching forward, your hand set on your chest so you could feel your quickened heartbeat against each of your fingertips. Eyes wide, you turned your head to be met by the facial expression that haunted you in your dreams each time you forgot to catch-up on charting. Nostrils flared, single dark eyebrow raised, eyes narrowed, mouth pulled down by the weight of burden you couldn’t even imagine.

“S’what happens,” Leonard began, a hint of amusement illuminating his hazel irises, “when you take naps in the mess hall, sweetheart.”

You frowned, sitting back once more as he set his tray down on the table and fell into the seat across yours. Your eyes grew hooded and slid shut once more. “I wasn’t taking a nap.”

“What d’you call what you’re doin’ right now?” You didn’t need to open your eyes to know his expression only grew more sarcastic.

You shrugged a shoulder. “Resting my eyes, breathing evenly.”

You could almost hear him roll his eyes, opening your own to catch a glimpse. “You sound exhausted.”

“Yeah, but I look fantastic,” your words came out with less gusto than you would have hoped, your lips struggling to quirk up like you’d originally intended. “Being on-call for the last week has ruined me— I’m averaging three hours of sleep a night. And it’s broken sleep, not continuous.”

“Stop blamin’ being on-call. What’s really ruined you is sleepin’ with that husband of yours every fuckin’ night and tellin’ me about it,” he quipped, stabbing a fork into a piece of chicken with a little too much force. “Maybe you’d get more sleep if you kept your damn hands to yourself.”

You clicked your tongue and shook your head, looking straight ahead at one of the many windows lining the walls rather than at Leonard. You didn’t want him to catch the slight smile you weren’t too tired to let spread over your lips. “Sleeping with my husband is what’s put me back together, Len— nothing says stress relief like an orgasm. The real problems here are the gamma shift red shirts.”

“They were behavin’ a month ago.”

“Apparently that notion is obsolete. I think they’re in cahoots with the alpha shift red shirts— I can’t explain the sudden surge of injuries in the middle of the fucking night on anything else.” You turned your head back to Leonard, narrowing your eyes. “It’s a conspiracy to take us down, to take down the hypo-wielding medics that are perpetually angry.”

His left eyebrow rose once more. “You got a problem with my attitude, sugar?”

“S’not just you,” you said with a shake of your head. “It’s me, too. You may be a bush of thorns, but I’m still a shrub of ‘em.”

“‘Least we look like roses,” he added with a loud chuckle, winking when he caught your eye. “You ever thought of delegatin’? The gamma shift physician can take care of some burns and the nurses are more than competent.”

“Doctor Krishna’s constantly overwhelmed. Whatever hair he’s got left was standing up every which way when he called me yesterday.” You reached over and took the apple of Leonard’s tray, ignoring his yelp of protest. You rolled the red fruit in your hands. “The man’s older than the Federation, he’s got a leg and a half in the grave— he can’t handle the burns on his own. Plus the nurses need a break, we can’t dump everything on them all the time.”

“Amen. S’only a week more anyway.”

You nodded. “Let’s hope I can take another week of all the running from my dark quarters to the brightest fucking portion of this godforsaken ship without my head bursting.”

“Sweetheart, I want to tell you I caught all of that,” he began, a smile pulling at his lips, “but I can only remember hearin’ you callin’ Jim’s quarters your own.”

You smiled sarcastically. “Of course that’s all you remember.” You held the apple at your lips. “I have to live there for the next couple of years so, for all intents and purposes, it’s my place, too.”

He hummed out a sigh as you bit into the apple he had been looking forward to eating. “I suppose it is. Speakin’ of your better half, though, —”

“Better half? I’m not half a person on my own, Len,” you interjected. “And, if I was, he would be my worse half. I’m the better half.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the best thing to happen to the universe since the Big Bang.”

You nodded once, slumping back against the wall. “Thank you for finally seeing the truth. What about him?”

“I was goin’ to ask where he is. Y’all eat together everyday— it’s disgustin’.”

You snorted. “It was your idea.”

“I didn’t know suggesting somethin’ to you oversharin’ toddlers would lead to all’a this.”

“Oh, you knew it would lead to Jim and I having sex,” you said with a scoff. “You practically pushed us together.”

“I thought it’d lead to y’all talkin’ to each other. Instead you’ve got me feelin’ like a fucking shrink that gets paid jack shit.”

“I mean, I’d think me appreciating you for being one of the many reasons I’m getting laid practically every night should be payment enough.”

“That actually feels like you’re takin’ something from me.”

You laughed, looking down at the apple in your hands. “Jim had a meeting with the rest of the bridge crew— something about keeping crew morale up. He’s basically giving out gold star stickers and hoping it makes everyone happy.”

“He thinks everyone’s a toddler like he is.”

You smiled. “Careful, Len. That’s my husband you’re talking about.”

Before the chair beside Leonard could scrape against the deck plating, there was a sigh of contentment and, when you looked over, you saw a smile that did away with some of your exhaustion. “I love when you defend my honor, starlight.”

“S’what I’m here for, pati mere,” you replied, sighing out in frustration when Uhura pushed your legs from the chair they rested atop to sit in their place. “Come on, Ny!”

She shook her head, narrowing her deep brown eyes at you. “You come on. You can’t hog every chair in here like you own the place.”

“I’m married to the captain, I do basically own the place.”

Jim continued smiling, raising his eyebrows when he turned to Leonard. “I love marriage.”

Leonard frowned back, leaning toward Jim so he could mumble, “You love somethin’ else, too. Might as well say it while you’re on this little kick.”

His smile instantly fell to reveal a stern look. “Bones.”

Leonard held his hands up in surrender. “Just tryin’ to help.”

“S’not really helping,” Jim said as he shook his head. He glanced at you listening to Uhura, watching you nod and bite your lip with wide eyes of concentration. He lowered his volume even more, “I tell her I love her and she’ll take the first shuttle off this ship. We’ve got a good thing going right now.”

“Acting like everythin’ y’all do means nothing ain’t a ‘good thing,’ Jim.”

Jim continued staring at you, tilting his head when you did, smiling when you did. “Yeah, but it’s a small price to pay.”

You turned in your seat, meeting Jim’s eyes and narrowing your own at the ocean blue that could drown you if you let it. You nodded upwards questioningly and smiled when he averted his gaze and cleared his throat. “Sunshine?”

He looked at you once again and blinked in surprise as you tossed the apple to him, his chair scooting back several inches as he swung back to catch it.

“Sunshine?” Leonard repeated, eyebrows almost touching his hairline.

Uhura made a gagging noise. “I’m disgusted.”

“You an’ me both, sugar,” he nodded, looking between you and Jim. “Is there anythin’ about y’all that won’t have me losin’ my dinner?”

“I say it ironically,” you explained, smiling at an unconvinced Uhura. “Oh, come on, Ny. You know me, I know me— the day I go around using terms of endearment is the day I—”

“You fell in love, (Y/N),” she said as she rolled her eyes. “We didn’t think that would happen either.”

Jim’s eyes, wide and unwavering, only saw you and his mouth fell open slightly.

You glanced at him for a split second, clearing your throat and nodding. “Right. I did, that’s why Jim and I are married. Because we love each other.”

Right. It was part of the charade.

He closed his mouth, he took a deep breath. He would’ve been grateful had the hammering in his chest ceased, had the flipping of his stomach ceased. But it didn’t.

He knew it was strange— that his body reacted so dramatically each time he thought you may feel the same way he did. Not only when Uhura said what she did but each time your eyes stayed in his while he was nestled so deeply inside of you he could feel your heartbeat, each time your breath hitched when his lips made contact with your skin, each time your hold on him got a little bit tighter.

It was strange. It was so strange that at just the prospect of you feeling for him even a fraction of what he felt for you, everything grew hazy, everything became unimportant. It was so strange that the idea of you having an ounce of love for him made his affections increase tenfold, made his body fill with the most inexplicable contradictions of nervousness and blissfulness, fullness and emptiness, calmness and anxiety. It was unbelievably strange.

He swallowed thickly, humming questioningly at something you’d said.

“I asked if we could leave,” you told him, nodding your head in the direction of the exit. “I’m tired and I’m on-call again tonight because someone,” you said pointedly with a glare in Leonard’s direction, “won’t relieve me of my misery.”

“You’re the one not wantin’ to delegate shit to Krishna.”

“He’s three minutes from death, Len.”

“Y’all gonna treat me like this when I’m Krishna’s age?”

Uhura frowned in consideration. “That’s a legitimate concern considering you’re not far off.”

You laughed as you rose from your chair, shaking your head as Leonard grimaced with a dry, “Glad you and I get to spend more time with each other, darlin’. S’a real treat.”

You held your hand out to Jim when you made it to his side. “Let’s go.”

He stared at your hand for a second, hesitating before lacing his fingers through yours and standing up. He didn’t bother sending goodbyes to the two remaining at the table, instead focusing on pulling you into his side so you could feel the warmth rolling from his body.

The walk to the closest turbolift was short, conversation flowing easily as it always did. You were smiling as you slipped into the lift, turning to face him once the door slid shut and it was just the two of you.

You smiled a little wider. “You know, Nyota’s not letting up on this party idea.”

“You hate parties,” he said, taking a step towards you so you took a step back.

You nodded, taking another step back. “But she said she wants an excuse to drink. I’d never take that opportunity away from someone.”

A side of his lips quirked up, he took another step. “Mostly because you want that opportunity for yourself.”

Your back hit the wall and an involuntary gasp left your lips. “I won’t argue with you on that. We should’ve registered,” your voice was soft, your breathing rate increasing as his hand sat against your neck, thumb sitting on your jaw. “At least we’d get something out of—”

“This marriage?”

You shook your head, your eyes slipping shut when he leaned in closer. “I’m clearly getting plenty out of this marriage already.”

He hummed, pressing his lips to yours softly and clicking his tongue when you pulled back.

“I meant out of the party. I would’ve liked a nice, retro-looking teal stand mixer for all my trouble.”

He leant his forehead against yours. “You don’t cook.”

“Yeah, but stand mixers are for baking.”

“You don’t do that either.”

You smiled, joining your lips once more.

As if the universe was against him, the turbolift chimed and the door slid open. He groaned loudly, refusing to let go of you. “Let’s stay in here.”

Your eyebrows rose. “We’re not going to have sex in a turbolift, Jim.”

“It’s a big turbolift.”

“Absolutely not.” You tugged on his arm and he let himself be towed behind you. “Control yourself.”

He pouted when you turned to glance at him. He then traced your every curve, your every edge, everything he could see before clearing his throat for what felt like the millionth time that night. “Tell me again why you won’t date me.”

“Because we’re married.”

“All the more reason to date.”

“No, it’s not,” you practically sang, entering the code against the control pad. You pulled Jim inside the living space, whirling around to face him. “Jim, we don’t— We can’t actually date each other. When you date, you have an out— we don’t have that luxury. We’re stuck with each other for at least a few years, there’s no out.”

“Starlight, —”

“We shouldn’t have to stay together out of obligation and helplessness, we shouldn’t have to continue to live together if we decide to break-up.”

You let go of his hand and smiled, wagging your eyebrows prior to walking to the closet and pulling comfortable clothes from the pile of clean laundry. “Besides, this way, we can do whatever we want, with whoever we want when we’re on leave.”

“I don’t want to do anything with anyone that isn’t you.”

You looked over your shoulder, nodding upwards. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Now, come here— Spock got on my nerves earlier and I have some frustrations to work out.”

You bit down on your bottom lip, tilting your head and nodding so the sea of contradictions almost took him under entirely. “Yes, Captain.”

PART 12

lil tag list: (tell me if you’d like to be tagged): @feelmyroarrrr @to-pick-ourselves-up-7@star-trekkin-across-theuniverse @webhoard @dirajunara @the-space-goddess-16@whiteandblackkeys @sugarshai @goodnightwife @anyakinamidala @iwillstaywiththemforever @majisean @bbparker @heyjess-marie@kirkaholic123@thepjofanqueen@buckybuckling @da1120 @dudahmautner @purelittleblueberry @insposcollective @our-chaoticwhispers @procrastinace 

[junker-town]

Trash Or Nawl: The 10 trash albums of the year

Welcome to Trash Or Nawl, a weekly column to help you weed through the Internet Muck. To do that, I’ll be breaking it down to a helpful binary: Is something trash? Or nawl? Topics here will involve sports and whatever else the hell I say is sports or sports adjacent. I’ll do my best to make sense of what's going on each week, but the thing to remember is no matter what I say, most of these things are still trash.

You might say this is simplistic, and hell yeah it is. This is how I make sense of the chaos. Professional grade hating restores power to my powerless stupid fan hands. I give a middle finger because I've given up clapping.

Trash or Nawl criteria: We will pick a topic. We will breakdown why or why it isn't trash. You can agree, you can comment or tweet your disagreements. Or we can fight. Really, it's up to you.

Good morning, hopefully y’all are hungover too. Today on a special edition of Trash Or Nawl, I’m finna discuss why y’all decided to make and praise these garbage ass albums. A lot of the blogs kept saying these tapes were fire, so we found out. Please enjoy this rare moment of where I put my Diddy hat and matching fur on.

“The inability to tell the difference between good pop and trash pop is the sign of a music philistine.” — My editor, Nate Scott.

With that in mind, I’m bout to fry tf outta all of the music Nate likes. [Editor’s Note: I don’t even like two-thirds of these albums and I’m not sure why I’m allowing this article to run, but whatever. Happy Holidays everyone.]

Lorde — Melodrama

I’m so muhfuckin tired of you internet people tellin me that Lorde, who basically only makes music that belongs on FIFA video game soundtracks, is making good music. This is some bullshit. Last night, I thought I was bangin out some whiskeys and was ready to party and tried out this wannabe Avatar background music. Woke up in a daze, night ruined.

And don’t you give me that “you a hating ass asshole I love Lorde” bullshit. I was gettin busy when “Royals” came out just like you were. And then whatever the hell “Green Light” is came on and ruined it. Lorde gon’ stop whisper singin’ on these tracks.

[Editor’s Note: This is one of the albums on this list that is objectively Good, and you need to understand that Tyler is just doing this to get a rise out of me and you.]

Also idk who told Lorde that this pop art album cover was litty, because this some diet Pablo Picasso ass shit. Ain’t fuckin wit it.

Haim — Something To Tell You

What the actual fuck is this? Most of these artists also just sound the same: like some weird version of whatever ‘80s movies made for white people were. Like, this easily coulda been the opening music for Pretty Woman. “Want You Back” doesn’t even make sense to me. Do you have a fear of forgiveness? Are you too proud? Are you blaming yourself?

We gotta stop telling our kids in grade school they can do anything they set their minds to because then we get shit like this. Seriously tho. I’m tired of the re-incarnation of Hall & Oates making pop music. I listened to “Founded It in Silence” five times by accident before I realized it was playing and not just my heater making noise.

Feist — Pleasure

Before “Pleasure” finally came on, I thought I got an album that didn’t have any music on it. Then when the song started and I spent the next minute not knowing what was actually said. The guitar was dope tho. Can’t hate on that. That fuckin guitar was dope as hell. But if I actually hear the word “pleasure” anymore in the way I have on this album that makes me think I’m in a Brooklyn dive bar with some round glasses ass hipsters wit they stupid turtle faces, I’m finna fight someone.

This album makes me feel like I’ve taken a lot of acid. I’ve never even had acid. Someone send me acid so I can know how I’m supposed to feel for listening to this album. [Editor’s Note: Please do not do this.] But, still. Can’t lie. This guitar is real real dope. Especially on “I Wish I Didn’t Miss You” but that ain’t gonna cut it, fam.

Charly Bliss — Guppy

I can fucks with a lil bit of some good rock music. But this fake ass Paramount [Editor’s Note: I think he meant Paramore but it’s a lot funnier as Paramount so I’m leaving it] sounding ass band wasn’t poppin. The drums was litty tho. New Indie Rock loves to do this thing where it remakes music that was born in the 80s but also the 90s now too. I felt like this coulda been played in Bring It On when Kirsten Dunst was hype because some bro made her a mixtape with his I’m Really Doing Something In Life struggle stubble. Also: Go Clovers.

Guppy wasn’t as bad as Lorde and Haim and Feist, but I just felt like someone was crying to me for 30 minutes. It also isn’t Future, Kendrick, SZA, John Legend, Migos, Badu or anything resembling it. Shit. This ain’t eem Plain White T’s “Hey There Delilah” level litty. [Editor’s Note: (Long, sustained sigh)] This ain’t making me pick up a guitar. Yeen head noddin to this. I can’t keep lettin y’all whine on a track and say you waxin poetic. I fuckin refuse. Empire wouldn’t even play this on they show.

Jason Isbell — The Nashville Sound

This is purely here because in a world where we’ve decided we ain’t fuckin with blatant white supremacy and nationalism (lol, this won’t last), I am triggered by a song titled “The Last Of My Kind.” Also, Isbell getting mad because folks laughed at him in college as a justification for this song is highkey highkey highkey the same reason people comment on Breitbart.

Photo by Rick Diamond/Getty Images for Country Music Hall Of Fame & Museum

He also made a song called “White Man’s World,” which, lol, y’all never really need to keep asking why folks don’t listen to country if this what y’all keep giving us. #WokeSZN #Resist #DumpTrump

[Editor’s Note: All the sportswriters of the world who are obsessed with this dude, please know that I had nothing to do with this section. Jason Isbell is great. Jason Isbell is the best. The Beatles? Beethoven? Fuck em. There is no one better than Jason Isbell, except maybe Bruce Springsteen, who I think you all also love for whatever reason. Please, for the love of god, don’t yell at me on Twitter.]

Margo Price — All American Made

A lot of you On The Internet Money Makin Whites love Margo Price. So because of that (and because OG Willie Nelson was making an appearance) I turned this on expecting non-pretentious and pompous ass country bangers I am accustomed to. Y’all told me this. Y’all told me she was the shit.

Welp.

Somebody call Deputy Raylan Givens and whip up that good wild west bullshit because Margo sound like the soundtrack to Justified. Margo dropped some bars that say “a little pain never hurt anyone” which is a whole lie because I promise you I was reeling from this weak shit.

OG Willie was dope tho. Don’t worry about that.

Taylor Swift — Reputation

Y’all knew this was gone be here.

First of all: IF CARDI B WASHED YO MIDDLE OF PENNSYLVANIA ASS ON THE CHARTS THEN YOU SHOULDA KNOWN WE FINNA GET THAT ASS UP OUTTA HERE BOI.

**re-adjusts collar**

I’m sad Future had to be dragged onto this album, but I know he owe Rocko a few Brinks trucks so I understand. I don’t know what Taylor keeps doing with these albums, tho. She’s always gonna get a few body rolls from me just because Future was featured here on some childish ass beats. But, y’all can’t expect me to think it’s pawpin for Tay Tay in the year of our lord 2017.

Photo by Dia Dipasupil/Getty Images

The New York Times, however, wants you to know this was super hot fire. Smh.

Katy Perry — Witness

Listen dog. I used to get it EXTREMELY LIT at high school mixers to some Katy Perry. Ain’t nobody gonna ever tell me Katy Perry wasn’t the white T-Pain at one point in my life. Left Shark is the hero this world needed at a time we didn’t know it. But the song “Swish Swish” which includes a line saying “Swish Swish Bish” featuring Nicki Minaj is one of the worst things created in a year full of some of the worst things ever.

The thing I didn’t expect: Nicki Minaj was actually the second-best thing about as much of this album as I was able to tolerate. Quavo yelling “KATY PERRY,” harmonizing with her in autotune, rapping many random “ayes,” yelling his own name, and randomly saying “Bon Appetit” on “Bon Appetit” is the best thing. [Editor’s Note: This is actually correct.] I need you to notice, the good things here have nothing to do with the person who made the music. If Space Jam and an elevator had a child and it grew to become a singer, it would make this album.

Macklemore — Gemini

Skylar Grey SANG her ass owf on this tape for “Glorious.” But Macklemore following up her vocals with “I’m feelin glorious, the crib lookin Victorian, you know we been goin in, since we hopped out that Dolorean, I’m gone, things are just things, they don’t make you who you are, can’t pack up a UHaul and take it wit you when you gone, we posted on the porch my family glasses to the stars, my grandma smiling down on me like OUU THAT BOY GOT BARS” is the most sickening thing I’ve ever had to take part in.

I don’t know if I’m more mad that another Macklemore album came out or the people who keep letting Macklemore let another Macklemore album come out. The sad part is: Macklemore actually gets some really fire ass beats. But we keep getting some fake ass Eminem verses because nobody gonna tell Macklemore either 1) he can’t rap that well or 2) he can’t rap that well about happy go lucky shit all the time.

Photo by Andreas Rentz/Getty Images

Mack also steps on Kesha’s angelic vocals on “Good Old Days,” Yachty’s assumed piano playing in “Marmalade,” and Offset’s ad-libs on “Willy Wonka,” which is just unconscionable. Also every single song on this tape except “Ten Million” had a feature. He reverse J. Cole’d himself. What world are we living in.

DJ Khaled & Friends — Grateful

I’m mad at Khaled for several reasons:

I followed him on Snapchat in anticipation to this album

His bit is lowkey tiresome at this point

Asahd is the most handsome baby in the world, which brings envy from my being

The album has 23 songs and is an hour-and-a-half long

The album was no where near any other Khaled bangers out

Khaled hyped this shit up for no good damn reason

That being said, this Khaled tape is probably the best worst tape of the year. “Shining” with Beyonce and her lil’friend is a fun song, and Qween has never made bad music. You’re welcome, Shea Moisture Twitter. “Wild Thoughts” still got me thinking about Havana fwiw even tho Bryson Tiller is the corniest dude alive next to Big Sean. “I’m The One” had me trine buy Bieber Merch and loudly singing said song at many functions. “I Love You So Much” was some cute Disney shit. “On Everything” had me jumpin on people’s couches.

But literally the other 80 percent of the tape is hot ass garbage. Which is super disappointing because a dude with the most Jordans in the world, prettiest baby alive, 18 mansions, superstar friends, and a call log that would envy the Lord hisself should be able to do marginally better than this.

Most times I think Khaled’s music is only good as an audio soporific. Sometimes that’s okay. Not this time. I’ve been deceived. To make up for this: Khaled plz send me some sneakers, Bellaire Rose and Jordan sweatsuits and all will be forgotten. [Editor’s Note: Khaled, don’t do thi... Actually, you know what? Khaled, do this. And throw in a sweatsuit for me.]

We’re good, Khaled. Because at the end of the day: You still better than Lorde.

If you disagree with these verdicts, comment below. As stated earlier, you can agree, comment, tweet through your frustration or fight. Really, it’s up to you.

[afreviews]

Rick Ross Drops ‘Rather You Than Me’

by Sadé

Rick Ross has released his ninth studio album, Rather You Than Me. The album includes features from Raphael Saadiq, Chris Rock, Gucci Mane, Meek Mill, Nas, Dej Loaf and more.

Ross has been pretty busy prepping us for this project. He’s dropped teasers for the album including "I Think She Like Me” featuring Ty Dolla $ign, “Summer ‘17,” "Trap Trap Trap" featuring Wale and Young Thug, and “Dead Presidents.” In the midst of this, he revealed the album’s tracklist via Twitter and unveiled the Mr. Brainwash-designed cover art by none other than Martha Stewart herself.

In an open letter, he had this to say:

This album is more than just another project for me. It’s a product of strength, perseverance and determination. ‘Rather You Than Me’ is a testimony. My testimony, and if you a real nigga, no matter where you from, you can relate to this.

… I hope y’all feel this. Listen to the message, relate to the story, feel the pain and struggle in these lyrics - but more importantly, understand that there is a greater life on the other side of those nightmares. It’s all for a purpose. It’s all for the better. I’m living proof. Boss shit!

We’re listening Rozay, and this is - most definitely - his best work yet.

I was a fan of Teflon Don, but damn...this right here. Ross has never really been an artist that I looked for. I digged his music, I respect him as an artist. He definitely has that ear for music, and choosing exactly what works for him. Being his first full album release since his 2015′s Black Market (which was eh), Rather You Than Me changes things a bit for me. It also means changes for Ross since this is his first album since he's left Def Jam and signed to Epic Records.

It’s real. It’s blunt. It’s personal. It’s pretty fucking good. I don’t even want to listen to More Life yet. Ross needs time to marinate and settle in.

“Standin’ on your block, but you so out of place” - Apple of My Eye

What a great way to start the album. I try not to repeat any songs when I first listen to projects. Just a run through, that’s all, and then repeat and dissect later. But this joint, I was tempted to replay. The beat alone, that’s that great ear I mentioned earlier. And there’s many tracks throughout, just the same. Ross starts off the album with that same sentiment he wrote in his open letter to his fans, “Listen to the message, relate to the story.”

Oh and that Meek line: “I told Meek I wouldn’t trust Nicki / Instead of beefing with your dog / You just give ‘em some distance.” Mmm. Meek you should’ve listened, instead of grasping at straws. Ross does come back to this a couple more times through out the album. The beef between Meek and Drake definitely bothered Ross, as they’re all label mates.

"You can't handle, sit down in the corner Shut the fuck up and take notes bitch! Just take notes” - Idols Become Rivals

Well the above quote isn’t exactly Ross, but Chris Rock is quite quotable. The Black Metaphor-produced track serves as a direct diss to Birdman, who was once Ross’ idol but turned rival: “How the fuck, nigga, you touch half a billion and your team starvin’?” This all stems from Birdman’s treatment of Lil Wayne, concerning the money as well as keeping Tha Carter V from releasing. In an interview back in 2015 with The Breakfast Club, he said:

Right now, really me just seeing what Wayne going through as an artist, me idolizing Birdman at a time, me looking up to Lil Wayne, Wayne being the first artist making to make so many feats not just as an artist but an artist coming through the South, that’s something I took personal. For me to see the way things are transpiring, I can’t respect that, and I don’t respect that.

As of now, Birdman did announce he won’t be holding the album back from releasing. It’s slated to drop sometime this year.

Ross revisits this later on in the song “Scientology.”

”And when a nigga says ‘Lord as my wintness’, a nigga tellin’ the truth You don’t lie after you say ‘Lord as my witness’ Did you ever hear OJ say ‘Lord as my witness’ No, he ain’t go that far” - Powers That Be (ft. Nas)

Another amazing quote from Chris Rock. Rozay was brillant for putting him on the project.

Rick Ross teams up with Nas for the fourth time on the Sap-produced track.

I chose to talk about this song… well, because Nas graced us with his presence, and so it shall be reviewed: “You know how it is, new levels, new devils.” It’s always great to hear a verse from Nas. It may just be a few bars, but, shit, I’ll take it. Why? Because as “the half moon identifies", he’s "the son of God, son of man / Son of Sam, young with the blam,” so “tell them haters get over it, Nas still rules.”

”Honor and pride, put your salaries aside This lead in the water, put your prayers in the sky” - Scientology

On the Pink produced track, Ross makes mention of Lil Wayne and the money issues with Birdman. He even confronts Birdman, once again, like ‘c’mon, do something’:

“Let’s address the past, won’t be no problems down the line See confederate flags but I got a flag of mine Yeah, yeah I got a flag of mine! Yeah BANG, we can do it then! I got that money for Lil Wayne let’s do it"

Birdman is not going to respond nor should he. You got enough problems, save yourself the trouble.

I just reviewed what I thought were the significant songs off the album but all are very good. Especially the fifth installment of the Maybach Music series. Accompanied by Dej Loaf, and produced by Beat Butcha and Buda & Grandz, “Maybach Music V” is smooth. It’s pretty cool, not my favorite of the five. I just don’t think it stands up to the rest, but its comfortable to stick to tradition I guess.

Rather You Than Me is available to preview below via Apple Music, but make sure you go cop that via iTunes.