#Pissed Jeans Half Divorced

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: Pissed Jeans Share a Bruising and Ripping Meditation on Harsh Truths

New Video: Pissed Jeans Share a Bruising and Ripping Meditation on Harsh Truths @ThePissedJeans @subpop @subpoplicity

Allentown-based punks Pissed Jeans’ highly-anticipated sixth album Half Divorced further cements their longtime reputation for crating feral punk with their acerbic sense of humor. Thematically, the material mercilessly skewers the tension between youthful optimism and the sobering realities of adulthood but while still managing to be — perhaps inadvertently — fun. “Half Divorced has an…

[guerrilla-operator]

Pissed Jeans // Moving On

[verifiedaccount]

Listen/purchase: Everywhere Is Bad by Pissed Jeans

[dustedmagazine]

Pissed Jeans — Half Divorced (Sub Pop)

Photo by Ebru Yildiz

“Too bad/we’re screwed,” Pissed Jeans vocalist Matt Korvette triumphantly spewed on “No Convenient Apocalypse,” the eponymous side A of last year’s standalone single. Come this year and the sentiment hasn’t changed much. But, for this band, has it ever? Gleeful, supercharged pessimism is what they do. If anything, in Half Divorced, the Allentown, PA, quartet’s sixth full-length Jeans get even more explicitly bummed; the stakes yet higher, the scraping on the way to rock bottom increasingly frantic. Titles like “Cling to a Poisoned Dream” and “Sixty-Two Thousand Dollars in Debt” make past complaints like “Ashamed Of My Cum” (Shallow, 2005) or “Caught Licking Leather” (Hope For Men, 2007) seem trivial in the face of an interminable mid-life crisis, 21st century-style.

“Cling to a Poisoned Dream” and “Sixty-Two Thousand Dollars in Debt” are back to back and act like a pair. Both are fast and raucous and delivered with a truckload of bravado. Of course, this being a Pissed Jeans record, the bravado never lapses but the words strip it naked. The former’s title is a refrain, each hopeful qualifier immediately undercut by a reminder that the pursuit will, at best, make you sick, even if you manage to “keep [your] head down [and] swallow what’s left of your pride.” The latter gets more specific. While you’re clinging, make sure you’re paying things down – sure, you’ll inevitably “pass it on to [your] child,” but you can look forward to “someday [being only] sixty one thousand dollars in debt.” Maybe you’ll even smile once in a while!

Pissed Jeans are one of the few bands who can be described (with little fear of provoking a contemptuous eye roll) as “skewering” things. This applies to their treatment of personal near-ruin, as in “Sixty-Two Thousand…” and “...Poison Dream,” and, just as sharply, to the odious other — the people they’ve been unlucky enough to interact with. The apex of the form is, appropriately, “People Person” from Hope For Men, but Half Divorced’s “Helicopter Parent” is a worthy addition to their canon of oblivious and unpleasant characters. From the first line (“Oh you started getting bored, so you went and had a kid”), Korvette excoriates the psyche, the past, the present and future of his titular target over an ominous, feedback-riddled stomp laid down in unison by the rest of the band. By the last lines (“It's time to reflect and maybe contemplate respect instead of/micromanagement because it's just a generational dead-end”), he’s moved past annoyance to hit on something more fundamentally disturbing. It’s not only financial debt that one generation passes down to another, but their vapidities and hang-ups. It’s a dead-end; it’s a vicious cycle.

Like their Sub Pop label-mates in Mudhoney, Pissed Jeans back up their humor and disgust with hurtling, curdling sonic assaults – you can practically feel yourself shoved into a cloud of sweat and moshing bodies when the chorus hits on “Junktime.” But there’s often more than initially batters the ear. For all the sturm und drang on Half Divorced, the component parts of each song are well-differentiated and clean. You get a clear sense of both the individual performances and their interaction. For instance, on “Everywhere Is Bad,” we’re greeted by the thick slashes of Bradley Fry’s guitar, but never lose track of the tight, manic beat of Randall Huth’s bass as it scales the writhing jungle gym of sound, courtesy of Fry and drummer Sean McGuinness — delightfully, the latter takes a break from blasting elephant-caliber birdshot to bust a round, infectious solo. The call-and-response litany of dismissals, in four words or less, of everywhere from Mars (“could use some air”) to hell (“too many dudes”), are the highlight of the song, but the groove carved out by the band’s heavy agility makes the punchlines stick.

Pissed Jeans have always been able to make a personal grievance or mild hassle sound existential — see putting on a tight black shirt versus not bothering on “False Jesii Part 2” (King Of Jeans, 2009) — but with Half Divorced the desperation gets dialed up. When, on “(Stolen) Catalytic Converter,” Korvette says “I feel sick/but I can’t puke,” it seems right to extrapolate the almost absurd helplessness widely. The crass, humiliating and, worst of all, mundane depths of lives that aren’t quite falling apart are well-plumbed in the back catalog and that chronicle continues here, with vigor and feeling. Like the figure on its cover, Half Divorced stares down a smoking hole in the ground, the band hollering for everyone (someone, anyone!) to come look. “Too bad/we’re screwed.” At least we know it now.

Alex Johnson

[spilladabalia]

Pissed Jeans - Sixty-Two Thousand Dollars in Debt

[senorboombastic]

‘Half Divorced’ - Listen to the eleventh episode of ’60 Minutes or less’, the new podcast from Birthday Cake For Breakfast – featuring Matt Korvette of Pissed Jeans!

Words: Andy Hughes ’60 Minutes or less’ – the new podcast from Birthday Cake For Breakfast – returns with one for the noise-heads, our eleventh episode featuring a particularly enjoyable chat with Matt Korvette, choice shouter in head-wreckers Pissed Jeans! Notorious noise punks with almost twenty years in the game, Pissed Jeans first melted this particular brain over a decade ago with a kooky…

[plakatierenverboten]

Pissed Jeans: Moving On (Official Video)

[yovrnewromantic]

WORTH IT

ex!husband eddie munson x reader

based on the hc! by me that eddie kidnaps your kids, charging kisses for ransom wc: 1.2K

“You know you can’t keep doing this.”

Eddie can hardly hold back a pout. He knows you’ll criticize him if he lets it slip, reminding him that ‘he’s a grown man for goodness’ sake’ even though his puppy eyes never fail to succeed against you. Except once. Only once, when you filed for divorce circa 12 years ago.

Filed into the back of the van, your children are pressing their faces up against the glass windows. Their eyes are wide, noses are upturned, fogging up the glass with each breath— looking like the myth of pig-men came to life and are giddy to draw smiley faces and ‘hi mom’s into the steamed up glass. Unlike you, they enjoy when their dad kidnaps them, waving their teachers off with forged letters so they can hobble into his car and fiddle with the stereo as he stops at the florist, and biting their lips to stop their excitement when they see your old camaro pull up.

Forget-Me-Nots lay half-forgotten at Eddie’s side as he ruffles his already messy curls, mesmerized as you step out the car, mom jeans and rock shirt hanging loose. You look as beautiful as the day he met you. Some days, he feels like it is the first time he met you, his heart paralyzed by a certain type of warmth at the sight of your face. It’s like everything around you disappears and he recognizes his purpose. You. You make him feel like a teenager in love.

“Eventually I’m just gonna call the cops on your ass.”

Angry is not how you would describe yourself in the moment. The first time it happened, hell, you were pissed. Smoke practically blew out your ears when he first called, interrupting himself with giggles while he announced “The prince and princess of, phh, Munsonville have been exiled along with the King. Haha, oh um— If you wish to see them ever again, you must pay the price!” After the second, third, fourth, and tenth time, it’s only become a nuance.

“Hi, Mom!” your daughter calls out, voice muffled. Her hands are sprawled against the window, the hair that was once well-kept into two braids is now fuzzy and tangled. Her brown doe eyes peering at you, standing on her tippy toes to see. Looking like the splitting image of her father. Behind her, your son is playing with Eddie’s electric-blue guitar, strumming the string so harshly that you cringe, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he’s still staring at you.

Dumbly, Eddie just sticks the bouquet in your face, his fist inches from your face. “M’lady.” Through the thin stems of your favorite flower, you can see his lopsided smile.

Rather delicately, you take the flowers from his grasp, looking at them for a second too long to keep up your uneffected act. These must’ve been on sale, you assure yourself. He doesn’t remember the flowers you walked up the isle with, he couldn’t have. When you can finally drag your eyes away, your brows are furrowed. Something fluttering in your stomach as Eddie tilts his head, usual shit-eating grin strangely sweet. Small indigo petals flutter to the ground as they’re knocked off their branches from impact of hitting Eddie square in chest.

“Ow!” He lifts his arms up in defense. The purple-blue veins that flex on his bicep matching the shade of the dwindling flowers. “Y/N!”

Finally, easing your attack, your chest rises and falls as you point a finger at his chest. “Give my kids, Munson!”

“Mrs. Munson!” Again, you raise the flowers to wack him over the head, but Eddie’s hand grips your wrist, holding it in place and smiling innocently at you. “You know the drill by now.”

Groaning, you hide your face in what’s left of your flowers, a red hue rising on your cheeks. It’s embarrassing— giving in this easy to your ex husband’s demands, but there’s a special spot in your heart for Eddie that just. won’t. go. away. No matter how many dates you went on, no one could replace him.

Eddie’s hands are gentle as they pry your hands, and flowers, away from your face. He’s close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath. Harshly sighing through your nose, and trying to convincingly eye roll, you choke out, “What do I owe this time?”

“Well, seeing as it took you ten extra minutes to get here from the estimated time…”

You shake your head. “I was busy explaining why the teachers didn’t need to issue an amber alert, dipshi—.”

“Ten kisses.” He’s too happy with himself, rocking back and forth on his heels as he watched the disbelief transform your pretty face.

“Ten?”

He raises his brows, playfully puckering. “Lay ‘em on me, honey.”

It’s never not awkward, begrudgingly (not really) approaching your ex husband with slow, torturous movements. Fingers finding his tattooed skin— which you used to color before you became adults and life went to shit, tracing up the expense of his arms until your hands connect around the back of his neck. He’s nibbling his lip as you inch forward, impatient. When your lips are close enough to touch, your breaths sync and your eyes meet. Heart racing, your eyes flutter shut. Lightly, the plush of your lips meet his— always surprising— soft lips. One.

Again. Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Eddie can’t help himself. His hands fly to your waist, squeezing the flesh he can reach and pulling your closer, shoving his tongue in your mouth when your hands tug on his hair. He tastes just as you remember, like tobacco and cheerios. As his tongue explores your mouth, you moan into his. Betrayed by your own body, dammit. His lips twitch against yours. When his teeth start to clash against yours, that’s when you pull away, a thick string of saliva connecting you. Nine.

Your eyes are hazy, a dumbstruck, lightheaded feeling coming over your body as you lean forward again. Foreheads connecting. Your noses nudging. Panting into each other’s mouth. Far too sensual for a divorced couple. Eddie finishes the last kiss for you, pecking your lips. Your breath hitches when he drags his teeth against the bottom. Ten.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” he chuckles, panting. His large palm finds the bottom of your ass.

“Go to hell,” you whisper against his lips. “Kids!”

“Already in the car, Mom!” Tucked in the back of the car, seat belts buckled, your children look unimpressed. Your cheeks go bright red as you adjust yourself, trying hard not to stomp to the car as you avoid contact with Eddie, who walks slowly, cockily, behind you.

“I’ll call you later, sweetheart!”

You shove your hand out your unrolled window, middle finger up. Eddie’s laugh makes your chest tighten, but you won’t let it show, flipping on your sunglasses and pulling the fuck away from him. Eddie smiles as his kids wave through the window, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans with a knowing look on his face.

He’ll win you back eventually.

—

p.s. 💋

“Mommy, are you and daddy getting back together?”

With your grip tightening on the steering wheel, knuckles turning your white, you meet your five year old son’s clueless eyes in the review mirror— the product of the last time you got back together with his father. “Not a chance.”

not edited or read over 😔

[charlesxavierthirster3000]

Denim — C. Xavier

Pairing: 60s (First Class)!Charles Xavier x GN!Reader

Summary: Charles takes you out, but you're quite the fussy shopper. (Pls spare me idk how to write summaries 😥)

CW/Tags: suggestive content, pre-beach divorce Charles, no use of Y/N (there never will be on my blog), don't like don't read.

A/N: Huzzah guys I'm finally writing !!!! This prolly won't get much traction bc it's not Logan but fuck it we ball 🔥🔥 This has been rotting in Docs for like a week and I just finished it like 15 mins ago so here we go.. 😁 Also I wrote this as Fem!Reader in mind but I realised it could be GN so I'll just put it as that :3

WC: 461 / Navigation

Divider credits (They're so cute istg bro) here and here

Charles Xavier was not your sugar daddy. He could believe he was all he wanted, but your very minimal amount of dignity drew the line at that title.

The man could buy you everything you ever even thought of — which was fairly easy, considering his mutation — yet you wouldn't admit it even if you had 8 fully loaded AK-47s pointed at your face.

“Just get it, for God's sake,” Charles drawled, nodding at the pair of mid-blue bootcut jeans you'd been fawning over for what felt like half his lifetime. 

When you give the gorgeous denim another doubtful up-down, he gets up from his concerningly squeaky stool bordering the men’s section and reaches for your wrist.

“It would take immense effort to make me go bankrupt, sweetheart.” He places his credit card in your palm, gently forcing your fingers over it with a short smile. It's not the first time he's done this, and it most definitely won't be the last.

“I have a pair just like thi—” you try to argue weakly, but the gloved hand over your mouth leaves you no choice but to shut your gob. God, this man was direct.

“Uh-uh, not hearing it. We both know exactly how much you want it. End of discussion. Go pay.” 

He carefully nudges you forward in the direction of the distant cashier, but you blatantly refuse to move an inch. He stares incredulously at the back of your head and you have to bite back a laugh beneath the confines of his palm. 

You should’ve expected it, but the British in your brain still catches you by surprise. Damn colonizers.

“Get the damn pants. Your ass would look lovely in them,” he pats your ass with his free hand as punctuation, attempting to urge you forward yet again.

“All you care about is my ass,” you retort mentally.

“Yes and no. It's definitely up there.”

“I'm gonna bite you.”

“Kinky. But keep it in your shorts ‘til we get back, yeah?”

He takes his hand off your face and gets out of your head. You whip your head around to silently complain at him, but he's staring right back at you with a smile that, to the normal person, would look as if he'd done no wrong. But to you, it was only making your situation worse.

The same smile which was pissing you off in ways you didn't even think possible morphs into a genuine laugh delivered softly, and for God's sake, you can't keep your stomach from doing a brief flip at the sound.

“Fine. Pretend you don't want them. But you're going to pay with my card, and I'll show you exactly how much you won't regret buying them when we get back to my office.”

[ashwhowrites]

Drugs or me part 3

The final part! I appreciate all the love and support on this mini series. I hope this is the ending everyone was waiting for. It ends happy

- Ash🩷🫶

The short message from Jake didn't seem like much, but it felt like everything to Eddie. It was a step in the direction of fixing things. And god, did Eddie want to fix everything.

He's been sleeping at the hotel for weeks now, day by day fixing himself. He's been clean for days, never craving a single dose of drugs. His body felt clean, his head was so clear, and he could feel the hope rising in his chest.

With the acceptance from Jake, Eddie went to every game with a smile on his face. He didn't try to hide away in the back. He sat front and center, he wanted to show Jake how badly he wanted to be the supportive dad in the crowd. Eddie felt accomplished every time Jake would send a wave and smile in his direction.

Eddie still kept his distance with Y/N though, not wanting to overstep if she wasn't ready. That also meant Eddie had to have distance with Aria, which he hated. She was growing more and more everyday and he continued to miss all of it. But the blame was all on him.

~~~

Y/N missed him and she still hated how sad she felt that he was away. She felt like a single mom and half the blame was on her. She wouldn't let him come home, but he also never asked to come home. She threatened lawyers so she understands his distance. She didn't mean it. She was pissed he had the nerve to lay his hands on Jake, but it seemed that Jake missed him too. She struggled with work and took care of Aria. Racing to get Jake to every practice and game.

She knew Eddie showed up to all of them. It took everything in her to not turn around. He called every night to talk to Aria, but she felt too scared to let their conversation waver off to something else...the conversation that they needed.

But Eddie was a father, and she needed to find out where their marriage was heading and how it would impact their children.

~~~

Feeling guilty that she had kept Aria from him for so long, she called and asked Eddie if he'd like to meet.

He agreed within seconds of the text, followed by questions about what time and where to meet.

They agreed on a small diner, meeting for breakfast and coffee.

Y/N felt nervous but excited. It reminded her of when they went on their first few dates. She remembers how long she spent getting herself ready, staring out the window for his car to pull up. Acting like she wasn't watching when he gave himself a pep talk before knocking on her door.

She searched through her closet, in her head, it wasn't exactly a date. They are a married couple going through a tough patch.....so why did she want to make him fall in love all over again?

The love wasn't lost, and the desire was still easily found, but in a way, she knew she lost parts of him. She wanted to bring the lost parts back.

Eddie wasn't doing well, arriving at the diner an hour early. Constantly checking how he looked in his car's mirror. His hands twitched and gripped at his jeans.

He was nervous, and he was terrified of all the outcomes. His stomach felt sick thinking of her handing over divorce papers. His eyes watered thinking of her asking for split custody or even full custody. What if she asked him to never see Jake again? That he wasn't allowed to be near her Aria?

He would either win his family back or lose them altogether.

He impatiently waited for the time to move faster. With twenty minutes until she'd arrived, he headed for a table.

Finding a back booth, he ordered her coffee order and his. Watching the door, barely taking time to blink.

Then he saw her and felt like he was seeing her for the first time all over again. She looked beautiful like them being separated was the perfect look for her. And himself? He knew he looked like shit. Then his eyes snapped to the girl in her hands, Aria's hair tied into two buns. Her little eyes found Eddie as she excitedly cheered and waved.

He stood up as Y/N got closer, silently handing the small girl into Eddie's arms. He hugged his girl with everything he had, almost forgetting how small she felt in his arms. It was like he was looking at his own reflection, and he hated that he was selfish enough to walk out on her.

"She's been asking for you all morning." Y/N teased, a smile on her face as she watched the two take in each other.

The familiar look in Eddie's eyes warmed her heart. That was the look he used to have when he'd see Aria. The same look in the guy that refused to miss a second with her. Maybe Aria would help pull him back.

Eddie smiled at the news, placing the girl in his lap as he sat down. The coffee was warm between them when she first spoke.

"Are you clean?" He admired that she went straight in, something he always loved about her. She never went around the bush, she'd go straight into the problem at hand.

"Yes, and I plan to stay clean for the rest of my life, I promise." He replied

"I'd like to believe that, Eddie. I really do, but I've heard that so many times before." Y/N sighed. She told herself she'd never go through this again, but here she was.

"I know, and I understand why you don't believe me. But I'm willing to do anything to prove it to you. I'll take a drug test whenever you want, I'll let you track my location, and I'll only see the kids while you are there. Anything you want." Eddie tried to explain, hoping the solutions he came up with would convince her to let him be around.

"I'm not him, and I know I failed at proving that to you. But he never loved you the way I do. I can pick you over drugs because I know with my whole soul you are more important than any type of drug. And I know our family is something I won't jeopardize again for a quick high. The drugs turned me into someone I'm not, and I know there's fear in you and Jake because of what I did. I don't want my family to fear me; I don't want my son to fear me the same way I feared my father. I know I don't deserve it, and I know I don't even deserve this conversation. But if there is any part of you that is willing to let me prove myself, I'll do it."

Even if he did actions like Liam, she knew Eddie was an entirely different person.

She knew Jake wasn't scared of him, and she knew Jake already forgave Eddie. The mother's side of her wanted to protect her children and she wished she never felt the need to protect them from their own father. The wife's side of her wanted her husband back. She wanted her rock to be next to her at night.

"Jake doesn't fear you. He was scared at the moment, but he said he knew that wasn't you. And Eddie, that person can't be you, do you understand that? It's bad enough that you let it happen once, and I shouldn't even think about letting you near us again. But...Jake forgives you and he misses you. I miss you, and Aria misses you. I have faith in you that you are capable of change. And because of that, I'm willing to give you a second chance. " She explained, Eddie felt himself smiling as she finished her thoughts.

"Thank you so much." He said immediately, reaching forward to hold her hand. Kissing her knuckles repeatedly.

"And I swear to God, if you touch anyone of us like that again, you will never be able to use your hands again." She threatened, and the look in her eyes told him she meant it.

If there was ever a time in Eddie's life when he needed to prove himself, it was now.

And he wasn't going to blow it.

~~~

"EDDIE, I SWEAR TO GOD!" Y/N screamed, her eyes blazing with anger as she found Eddie huddled over the bathroom counter.

Eddie jumped at her voice, anxiety in his veins as he tried to hide the evidence, scrambling to close the small container.

She stood there, glaring as she crossed her arms. "And what do you think you are doing?" She snapped.

"Nothing!" He squeaked out, turning around to face her, hands in the air as he surrendered.

"Your eyes are fucking red! I'm not stupid," she exclaimed, not quite yelling but incredibly close to it.

"Fuck, fine!" He sighed, moving over to allow her to see the mess he made on the counter.

"Fucking dick!" She said, smacking his arm as she walked closer to the counter.

"I wanted to learn for the tour!" He tried to explain, but she wasn't hearing any of it.

"How many times have I told you to stop using my eyeliner!" She spazzed, scooping up her fully used eyeliner stick that she just bought.

"As many times as I've done it?" He shrugged, trying to give her a small smile. She rolled her eyes at his response.

"God, I hope this next kid doesn't have your smart ass replies." She teased, giving him one last glare. Eddie laughed at her comment, easily dragging her into his arms. Her swollen belly hitting his.

"Very funny" he mocked, kissing her forehead as she started to melt in his arms.

"Buy me another one, and don't touch it." She warned

"Yes, Mom," he teased, patting her growing belly. Kneeling down to her bump, whispering softly against it. "I hope you don't get your mom's sharp tongue."

As a result of his comment, he received a smack to the head.

"Alright, get up. We are going to be late for Jake's graduation." Y/N said, looking at the clock on the wall. Eddie stood on his feet, leaning in to kiss her softly.

She hummed at the softness of his lips and kissed him back. Her head went dizzy as he kissed her slowly.

"Have I told you how sexy you are pregnant?" He teased, a familiar smirk on his face.

"Yes, that's exactly why I ended up pregnant. So get the look off your face and get Aria in the car."

Eddie watched as she left the bathroom, smiling to himself as he walked into Aria's bedroom. Her sitting on her bed, dressed up from head to toe.

"Daddy, I'm ready!" She squealed, her hands in the air as she waited for him to grab her.

"You're three, baby. You can walk to me," he teased, both knowing she was just like her mom. And that meant- it was her way.

He pretended to sigh, giving up easily as he walked over to her, dropping to the floor. Allowing her to jump on his back. He cupped her legs and walked them out into the living room.

"We are ready!" Aria announced. Y/N smiled at their arrival. Still amazed at how much Aria looked just like Eddie.

It was moments like this that she was happy she gave him that second chance three years ago.

"Then let's go watch Jake graduate!" Y/N said, leading them out the front door.

As Eddie sat in the crowd, watching his son graduate high school, he knew his family was the right choice.

He kept all his promises. Never touching a drug again. But honestly, why would he have the desire to? Everything that made him feel alive was sitting next to and in front of him.

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[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: Pissed Jeans Shares Anthemic Ripper "Moving On"

New Video: Pissed Jeans Shares Anthemic Ripper "Moving On" @ThePissedJeans @subpop @subpoplicity @fdnieto @JoeStakun

Over the course of their 20-year history together, Allentown, PA-based punks Pissed Jeans — Matt Korvette (vocals), Brad Fry (guitar), Randy Huth (bass) and Sean McGuinness (drums) — has never been known to go halfway: They’ve long been known for material that pairs feral vocals and acerbic, biting lyrics with buzzsaw guitars — and for their unhinged live show. The Allentown-based punks’…

[guerrilla-operator]

Pissed Jeans // (Stolen) Catalytic Converter

[ebullientheart]

sidetrack. aaron hotchner x reader

content — hurt comfort. swearing. mention of hotch’s divorce. gn!reader. short fic. established relationship.

aaron doesn’t want to make the same mistake twice. or sidetrack, by catfish and the bottlemen.

aaron hotchner was an fbi agent. to achieve that, he, like all, had to pass his physical fitness test to go into the field. but he was seriously wondering how effective that was, because as he dived off the bau’s jet and let his feet carry him over the wind to his car, the breath was knocked entirely from his body.

his satnav insisted the bridge was the quickest route home, but it felt longer in the silence. he couldn’t bring himself to slow down and switch on the radio. not when he’d woken to such a simple message from you — “give jack a kiss.” he knew, rationally, that you were just kidding, referring to a photo of jack puckering up to the camera before going to bed. but it set off haley’s last words before she left, and they were knocking at his temples like hammers. you had to be there when he got home. you had to.

aaron turned off home when he was at work, or at least he tried to. sometimes he thought about you telling him that he was everything you wanted. but he strove to keep his mind focused. if he didn’t, all he could think about was losing the life you had together, and that was unacceptable. he never wanted to feel the backlash of you turning from him. he never wanted to feel that way again.

had he been too caught up in work again? he struggled to remember.

everytime he apologised, you’d look at him with this endless patience that he felt undeserving of. he felt too responsible for it all. you promised you’d wait for him. would you wait for him?

the satnav beeped that this was the quickest route. he wasn’t convinced.

at a red light, he rested his head on the steering wheel for a few moments. he’d been short with you the night prior, when you rang to say goodnight, all loving and affectionate, and he’d had little to say back. a sincere whisper of love, but he was sure you were frowning on the other end of the line. it made him go mad to consider you weren’t getting back the endless love you threw at him. aaron needed you to know that he loved you. to really know it.

fuck this. he spun his car into the next lane, pissing off the drivers behind him and his satnav. he switched it off, confident he knew better. he was right. he needed to be with you as soon as possible, to make sure you were tangible. nothing ever good comes when there’s nothing on the line. something you told him a long time ago. did you know he used it like a mantra?

the door opened quietly. he might have been half delirious at that point, but he knew his son was well tucked into bed at this time of night. you probably had a hard time getting him down, he didn’t want your work for be to nothing. and you might be in bed too. he told you he’d be back that night, but he said things like that a lot.

he thought his heart was going to give out, constricting so tightly as he took in the scene before him. you were still wearing your jeans, and one of his college sweatshirts, curled into the sofa with a book hanging loosely from your grasp. you had tried to wait up. you believed him when he said he’d be back.

aaron crossed the carpet, imagining you scolding him for not taking his shoes off first. gently, he took the book and marked the page you were gripping so you wouldn’t lose it. he didn’t mean to wake you up, but your eyes were fluttering open at his movement and the adrenaline coursed through your body as you recognised his face.

before he could get a good footing, you shot up and threw yourself toward him with the energy infected in you by his son. your arms were around his neck and your legs were around his waist. instinctively, he held onto you as he stumbled back, managing to keep the two of you upright as you clung to him, reminiscent of a koala. his hands curled under your thighs as he shifted you slightly off his bad hip, thinking that he definitely needed to check on that fitness test.

“i didn’t mean to wake you, honey, i’m sorry.” he mumbled first, but you covered his mouth with your palm, ignoring the awkward position it put your elbow at. you shushed him lightly and pressed a chaste kiss to his downturned lips.

“no apologies, not right now.”

with his hands occupied, he used his head to make sure you were looking resolutely at him. he needed you to see his words, not just hear them.

“i love you.”

[spilladabalia]

Pissed Jeans - Moving On

[senorboombastic]

This One Song… Pissed Jeans on Junktime

Tell you what – we love hearing from artists when things go right. We equally love hearing from artists when things go dreadfully wrong. A song that was a piece of piss, written in 20 minutes? Or years in the making and a bastard to write? Whether it’s a song that came together through great duress or one that was smashed out in a short amount of time, we’re getting the lowdown from some of our…

[sygneth]

my absolutely random headcanons that are not tied to anything they just popped in my head unprompted (and i'm not even sorry half of them is about Jean)

(if you read EOE it may be useful knowledge? or not lol)

Judit's husband is a writer, he's semi-successful in his job, probably currently writes articles for some paper or something like that, and works on a novel in his free time.

Harry inherited the apartment he is living in when he was a young adult, so he was, fortunately, wrecking only his own property (but it also implies it's probably still the same apartment since Dora times, oof.)

Jean cannot walk the stairs. Running. is the only option. Hoppin' two steps at a time. Free workout time, yeah?

Piss and Fuck witnessed Harry's kamikaze jump over the canal and I refuse to believe they didn't have that on the back of their minds while checking out Kim's MC on the plaza.

Harry would totally eat pizza with pineapple and say it's the best kind and Kim would totally want to divorce him over it.

Jean totally learned how to play piano when he was young, he probably forgot most of it since though. He probably sings well too.

Jean hates spring & summer seasons due to allergies, he's totally allergic to pollen, not sure if anything else but probably yeah.

Kim is one of those people whose feet get absolutely massacred by each new pair of shoes he tries to wear, so he tends to wear one pair for literal years not to have to struggle with a new one.

Play a late '00s pop dancing song (like Kesha or Lady Gaga) to slightly drunk Jean and see what happens (everybody has guilty pleasures, right)

Before becoming a cop Jean tried to study... something. Or more than one something, but nothing slapped (fuck yeah depression), so he decided to go RCM because eh.

Kim's hair has a magical ability (or maybe he's just not cheap on his hair products...) to stay neatly combed regardless of the circumstances. He could get into a most violent fistfight and still play in a hair product commercial afterward.

Jude has an older brother.

When Plaisance and Annette move out from Martinaise, Annette will switch schools to the same where Mikael is going. I need them to be friends who will nerd about books and games and computers.