#i feel like bullshitting one and getting paid for doing fuck all in the middle of tour rehearsals is just funny gbdjfkgdjkfg

[pseudophan]

I just got home and saw they posted and went oh my god did they have to do this the ONE DAY I actually went out??? And then I was like. Oh this is Nora behavior i finally get it

welcome to being abnormal about youtube videos isn't it great? if it helps you really didn't miss anything. the real highlight of the day were the set reveal photos, the video was more filler

[flowerfreya]

A lowlevel mafia man took my baby!

All fics masterlist

This is really just for fun lol. CW:Kidnapping Reader is in debt to a mafia boss (not Price) and when the low level mafia men come in with Price's baby , the reader makes a decision

“You took who?”, you exclaim.

“James Puck”, the dumbasses say. They look over at you like you’re the one being annoying. They are holding what looks to be a three year old boy, dressed in a mini-suit, like they just took him from church service. He is the calmest baby you have ever seen. He’s just looking around, observing everything, and soon he’s going to figure out that his father is not here. And he’s going to throw a fit. 

“Why?” , you ask. Like who’s dumbass idea was this. Taking a mob boss's son in the middle of the day is not the smartest idea. At.all. 

“What the boss wanted”, they shrug. God you hate it here. 

You got dopped into being across this empire by accident and maybe by desperation. You really needed money,so you signed your life away. At least only for three years. You’ve been doing odd jobs at the house for the past two years, just cleaning up and picking up groceries. You haven’t been paid since you were because according to your “boss”, you’re paying off your debt, you know it’s bullshit but the way your credit was looking you wouldn’t have gotten a loan for the amount you needed. 

The baby starts crying an hour later , dumb and dumbass look flustered. The are holding it like they don’t know what to do with him. 

They look over to you, “you're a woman, you know what to do”, handing you the child, and then walking out.

You automatically feel that his diaper is wet and probably has been for a long time and he’s probably hungry too. Inside the kitchen , you look in the pantry to see if there is anything that he can eat , that hopefully won’t cause any allergic reaction if he has any. 

“Here comes the airplane”, the spoon coming from up high and a brmmmmm making James giggle. 

You’ve been trying to distract James for the past three hours and nothing is working. You’ve tried to hold in sitting on the couch, walking around with him, even giving him some warm milk. Nothing is working. 

From upstairs you hear your boss yell, “shut him up!”. 

You roll your eyes, “Oh, I’ll shut him up alright”. Then you come up with another idea. Maybe you could just return him.

~

Muttering to yourself as you try to sneak out of the compound is a bit of an issue. The kid won’t stop crying and it’s going to alert them if you can’t shut him up. 

You're not really a mothering type. You're probably holding the baby wrong and the diaper is on backwards. 

“What do I need to do for you to be quiet”, you say to the baby. Like it will talk to you when it cries in an answer, you nod to the baby, “I should have known that”. 

You just start moving as quickly as possible thinking …maybe if you move fast enough people will think it's an animal crossing in the night. 

Finally getting past the gate and getting on the main road , you start just walking along the road, hoping that the 141 gang is just driving around looking for the mob boss's baby. Hearing a car coming fast down the road and skrrrting next to you. 

“Oi!!”, you look over and see a man with a skull mask holding a gun and of course it's pointed at you. You mean you're not surprised, since you're the one walking around with James Puck Price. 

“Hi”, you lower yourself so you can see through the window and do a small wave, ”I think I have what your baby”, and then you lift up the baby, so he can see him. 

“Get in the fucking car”, he growls at you. 

“Yeah , of course”, you slide into the back of the car. Looking around, “Do you have a car seat or anything”, pointing to the child, “we do have a baby in here”. 

Looking at you through the rearview mirror, “that is the least of your worries” ,he says.

[nameless-jamie]

PR Disaster

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, suggestive scenes

Jamie Tartt was a nightmare to work for on an average day. But on a day when he was desperate? He was unbearable.

Y/N had spent the last twenty minutes trying to get through her emails while Jamie sat across from her desk, relentlessly attempting to convince her to do something insane.

“Come on, love,” Jamie pleaded, drumming his fingers on her desk. “It’s just one night. Just a little thing. Barely even a date.”

She shot him an incredulous look. “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend at a charity gala.”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

Jamie groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Y/N, you have to.”

“Oh, I have to?” She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. "M'not getting paid for this so I don't have to do shit, Jamie."

"Don't be difficult, babe. I beg you!"

“Let me get this straight. You, a fully grown man, need a date to some fancy event, and instead of—I don’t know—asking out one of the many women who throw themselves at you, you come to me, your freaking assistant?”

He sighed dramatically. “I can’t take some random girl. That’d make it worse.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Worse than what?”

Jamie slouched lower in his chair and sighed. “Some wanker journalist wrote a whole article about how I’ve ‘lost my edge’ since I’ve been single. Said my game’s sufferin’ ‘cause I’m too ‘unfocused.’” He made air quotes, looking deeply offended. “He said I'm too horny for the pitch or some shit. Like, I can’t be single and good at football at the same time. It’s bullshit.”

“That does sound like bullshit.”

“Right?"

"Too horny for the pitch, is my favorite thing anyone has ever said about you, though." Y/N laughed, wiping a small tear out of the corner of her eye.

"Y/N be fucking for real right now. The plan is, if I show up with a girlfriend, it shuts everyone up. And if I take you, it don’t get messy. No expectations. No awkward post-date texts. Just you lookin’ dead fit in a fancy dress and me lookin’ like a man not in the middle of a public downward spiral.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Why do I feel like you’ve thought way too much about this?”

Jamie grinned. “Because I have.”

She exhaled slowly, staring at him for a long moment. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Best ones usually are.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

"And if the press wants us to kiss it wouldn't be awkward because we already did that once!"

"Jamie, that is still a fucking accident. We don't talk about that!"

"I mean I want to talk about it—" Jamie couldn't finish that sentence before a pen was thrown his way.

"Pick me up at 7. Go away now!"

The night started when he picked her up for the gala, in a freaking stretch limousine.

Y/N opened her door.

Jamie’s brain short-circuited.

She stood there in a dress that was so—fuck. It was tight in all the right places, dipping low at the neckline, hugging her waist like it was personally designed to ruin his life. Her legs? Glorious. The slit in her dress? Criminal. Her makeup? Perfect.

He actually forgot how to breathe.

Y/N tilted her head. “Jamie?”

He blinked rapidly, forcing himself to speak. “Huh?”

Her lips twitched. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice cracking like a fucking teenager. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh, you look—” He gestured vaguely at her, struggling to find a word that wasn’t fuckable. “Good. Nice. Decent.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Decent?”

Jamie winced. Fuckin’ idiot. “Nah, not decent. I meant, like, proper good. Like, unfairly good. Like—fuck, what’s the word—illegal?”

She laughed, and Jamie swore it was the best sound he’d ever heard.

“Well, that’s good to know,” she teased. “Considering I’m supposed to be your date.”

Right. The fake date. The one that wasn’t real. The one where he definitely wasn’t supposed to be thinking about how he wanted to keep her locked in his car all night so no one else could look at her.

Jamie exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. Get it together, Tartt.

Y/N gave him a knowing smile. “You ready to go?”

Jamie didn’t trust himself to speak. Instead, he just opened the car door for her, staring straight ahead as she got in—because if he looked for even a second longer, there was a very real chance he’d be showing up to the gala with a boner.

And that was definitely not part of the plan.

Y/N soon realized that the problem wasn’t the gala.

The problem was Jamie.

Because he was apparently way too good at fake dating.

For someone who was supposedly just trying to fix his reputation, he seemed very committed to the role.

He kept his hand on the small of her back all night, his thumb moving in slow circles against the fabric of her dress like it was second nature. He leaned in close every time he spoke to her, his breath warm against her ear. And worst of all, he kept looking at her like that. Like she was the only person in the room.

He also seemed to be having the time of his life making up a fake relationship history.

“Oh, yeah,” he told an interviewer from The Athletic. “She played hard to get at first, but I wore her down.”

“She pretends to be annoyed by me,” he added later, “but really? She’s obsessed.”

Y/N had to bite her tongue multiple times to avoid strangling him.

But then came the real kicker.

“She makes me a better man. I mean fuck— have you looked at her. She is not going to her own flat tonight, am I right love?”

Y/N nearly choked on her champagne.

What the fuck was he playing at?

She was fully prepared to murder him the second they got into the car.

But before she could, the event photographer asked them to pose for a picture, and—

Jamie pulled her in, his hand sliding around her waist, fingers brushing the bare skin at her side.

Her breath hitched.

And then—

Jamie fucking winked.

The camera flashed.

And just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, a journalist called out:

“Jamie! One more shot—how about a kiss for the cameras?”

She froze.

Jamie, however, seemed thrilled by the idea.

“Oh, yeah?” He turned to her, smirking. “What d’you reckon, love? Give the people what they want?”

She stared at him, genuinely considering murder.

But the cameras were waiting. The journalists were watching. And it's not like it would be their first one...

Jamie—the absolute menace—was already leaning in, his lips curling into something dangerously close to a real smile.

She had two options: make it awkward as hell by shutting it down, or commit to the bit.

FUCK, she was his freaking assistant. And she's totally into him. But that wasn't important right now. If she did not kiss him the press would know that Jamie Tartt brought a fake date or worse they would think that his own girlfriend hates him. If she kisses him though, the PR disaster after that would fucking suck.

Fuck it. With a deep breath, she reached up, placed her hand on his chest, and let Jamie close the distance between them.

It was barely a kiss—a soft press of lips, just enough to make it convincing. But Jamie’s hand tightened on her waist, just for a second, and her fingers curled against the fabric of his suit before she forced herself to pull away.

The cameras loved it.

Jamie did too, judging by the way he looked at her afterward.

“Not bad, love,” he murmured, his lips still inches from hers. “Please tell me that one was an accident too. Or else I might have to take you home with me tonight.”

She just rolled her eyes and shoved him. Idiot.

The next morning, Y/N woke up to absolute chaos.

Her phone had exploded.

Twitter was going insane.

She clicked on the first headline that popped up.

"Jamie Tartt Goes Public With Stunning Mystery Girlfriend at Charity Gala—And We Have ALL the Details"

She scrolled down, her horror growing with every paragraph.

"From the way he looked at her to the way he kept a protective hand on her waist all night, Jamie Tartt was absolutely smitten. Sources tell us that he was completely devoted to her the entire evening, barely paying attention to anyone else. And let's not forget the viral moment when he told reporters, 'She makes me a better man.' Our hearts? Melted."

“Oh, for fuck sake. I knew it.”

She stormed into Nelson Road, phone in hand. “Jamie fucking Tartt!”

Jamie, who had been laughing with Dani, turned at the sound of her voice. “Mornin’, love.”

She marched up to him and shoved her phone in his face. “Do you know how many people think we’re actually together?”

He barely glanced at the screen before shrugging. “Yeah. Bit mad, innit?��

“Mad? Mad?” She scrolled further. “People are already speculating about a wedding! I just got an email from Vogue asking if we’d do a couples photoshoot and a fucking interview!”

Jamie grinned. “Vogue, yeah? That’s kinda sick. Let’s do it. I can tell ‘em about how you snore when you fall asleep on the couch.”

“I do not snore.” She gaped at him. “Jamie. This is not funny.”

“Babe, you do,” he said, voice dripping with amusement, "And it’s a little funny.”

She groaned. “I hate you.”

“Nah,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “You love me, remember? You make me a better man.”

“You fucking prick. You even liked a post that said, ‘Jamie Tartt and his girlfriend are the it couple of the season’!”

Jamie shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, yeah. ‘Cause we are.”

Her jaw dropped. “We are not.”

Jamie tilted his head, a playful glint in his eye. “You sure about that, love?”

She refused to answer.

Jamie must’ve noticed her hesitation because he leaned in, dropping his voice. “Just say the word, and I’ll post a proper ‘soft launch’ photo of us on Instagram.”

She shoved him away.

But later, when she caught him scrolling through a fan edit of them kissing with that smug little smile, she had the sinking suspicion that Jamie had no intention of letting this fake relationship die anytime soon.

And worse?

She wasn’t sure she wanted him to. She had to clear the air, though...And the PR of all of it was going to be a fucking disaster.

[thatdisasterauthor]

I am so fucking exhausted right now. I really felt like I was starting to get my feet under me over the summer, and now I'm back to barely keeping my head above water, and I'm just so done with this bullshit.

I start my full time dispatcher job in maybe Marchish, but the permanent pay fix didn't go through so we've got another year or two of regular pay plus a retention bonus, then my pay might get slashed by 30-50% because I highly doubt the incoming administration is going to be any more favorable to wildland firefighting than the current one.

And I don't even know how the hell I'm going to make it to Marchish without dipping into my top surgery fund because $164/week in unemployment is a fucking joke. I would've been better off if they'd just never taken the damn unemployment taxes out of my paycheck in the first fucking place.

And top surgery! My original date for it passed the other day and it hit me like a fucking truck. I've been so damn uncomfortable ever since and I just want to rip the damn things off. But I have no fucking clue how I'm going to afford it now.

And then there's my books. If the tariffs get passed my main method of publishing, the one that brings me the most income, is down the drain because there's no way I can afford to work with my printer in China if there's a fucking 100% tariff, and there literally aren't ANY printers in the US that offer all the features I need. (And if they claim they do, they're usually just a middle man for working with a Chinese company anyway.) I can still publish in other ways, but it won't get me as much money.

And having a literary agent has honestly been a bit of a clusterfuck for various reasons I'm not going to get into, so any sort of traditional deal is seemingly more and more off the table.

And I gave my dad an ultimatum after the election that I was deeply dissapointed in the fact that he voted for Trump AGAIN, and that if he wasn't willing to work on his racism and other issues I needed to take a step back from having a relationship with him. He never replied and hasn't talked to me since. Haven't spoken to my mother in years. Which just leaves me and my little sister, so I've really got no support network to speak of.

And then there's applying to a PhD, which I want to do so, so badly, but I just can't fathom how I could do that and afford it. The program I'm aiming for is paid, but not even close to enough to support the cost of living where it is, let alone the cost of moving over there.

And I think I need to finally pursue a formal ADHD diagnosis so I can get meds, but I can't do that until I start my new job and get health insurance. And, honestly, I'm really wary of getting a formal diagnosis anyway with the incoming administration. It just feels like something I don't know if I want on paper with all the crap they're trying to pull. But I cannot keep rawdogging this shit without meds.

And you know what? I'm fucking tired of being single. I'm tired of fighting this shit alone. But as an ace, autistic, queer person in a very conservative area (and the fact I can't afford to go out and DO anything) meeting someone is pretty out of the cards, given I have no interest in long distance relationships.

Just.

Ugh. So fucking tired.

I'll make it through, I always do, but man, I am tired of it constantly being a battle.

[hwanchaesong]

Folklore: A Trilogy (August) Teaser

Childhood friend!Jake X F!Reader

Synopsis: Ever since you left home to pursue the city life, you really did think that everything was over. Then you returned, and you still see him there. Will something rekindle and burn inside you once more?

word count: tba

genre & warnings: fluff, smut, angst, other warnings tba when the full fic is out

a/n: this is a part of Folklore: A Trilogy, where the first part is about Jake. i made a playlist for this and i'll probably post that along with the full fic. for now, please enjoy the teaser. lemme know if y'all wanted to be added to the taglist. tysm 🩷

"Y/N! Wait up, please, let me explain!"

You were well aware of Jake's pleads which made you walk faster, unfortunately, races like this meant that the one who has the longer limbs wins, and that wasn't you.

Jake caught up to you in no time, forcefully pulling you into his arms and enveloping you into a tight embrace, not letting you go even if you fight and hit him, accepting all of the profanities that you throw at him, he deserves that much.

It feels like you're in some k-drama. Getting back hugged by your childhood friend in a place where people are nowhere to be found, the skies turning into shades of gray and black, and frankly, you're getting tired of struggling knowing that you already lost the fight since he's so much stronger than you.

When he felt you go limp in his hold, he slowly turned you around so that he could examine you properly, a miscalculation on his part because seeing you in such a defeated state made him want to bury himself six feet under the ground until he's sure that he's paid the damages he had caused you.

"Y/N, please just one chance," he cupped your face, peering at you with such beseech, "please hear me out."

When you didn't speak, he took that as a chance to elaborate his case.

"I know it's wrong of me to interact with her, but she suddenly sat down in front of me. She caught me off guard and I was about to tell her off."

You let out a scornful laugh, pushing him away from you, "Oh so you're saying that she's about to leave?"

He nodded, hope skirting his features but you wiped it all off with your next sentence, "Then how do you explain that wide smile you have while talking to her, huh?!"

"Come on, Y/N, it was fake. I had to d-"

You raised a hand to stop him from saying more, having heard enough of his bullshit for the day, "Cut the crap, Jake, just- give me some time to think about.. t-this." your voice cracked in the middle and the sound reverberated through Jake's heart.

Watching you turn your back away was the hardest shit that Jake has to endure, especially since you're only a hair's breadth from his grasp.

Jake runs his hands over his face, attempting to rub the moisture away.

He has to fix this- No, he will fucking fix this even if it means that he has to go from heaven to hell.

You went home with a heavy feeling in your chest, ignoring the questions from your family and skipping dinner, (which is a big deal because your mother cooked your favorite food) since you don't have the appetite to join them for a delicious meal. You're tired, and all you wanted to do was cry yourself to sleep in the comforts of your mattress.

You dropped your body in the cotton sheets after washing up, dressing yourself in a simple tee and shorts.

A stuck gum in your precious, long hair that had caused you to cut it short, which made your classmates call you a tomboy.

It was eerily quiet, then the horrid memories that you buried in the back of your head started to swim back into the surface, your hands automatically went to your hair, gripping it hard as you choked back a sob.

Your artwork that was destroyed because this jealous girl just had to spray some black paint on it, causing you to lose a painting competition.

That one time when you had a crush on this guy named Soobin, but then he rejected you when you confessed because a certain someone made rumors about you wanting to have sex with him wherein reality, you only wanted to have a date with him.

You remembered being called to the principal's office because you were accused of cheating during finals, which you never did but for some reason, 'evidence' of your wrongdoings appeared, and you lost the chance to become the class valedictorian.

The root of all these shitty things that you experienced: Kim fucking Chaewon.

All the pent up humiliation and anger were released, the thought of Jake, the person who was supposed to be your shield from the chaos being involved with the person that you disliked, no, hate the most is killing you inside and out.

You sniffed, shutting your eyes and letting the tears flow freely as you clutched your pillow close to your chest. How you wished for your boyfriend to save you from this dark hole that swallowed you once more.

"Sunghoon, I need you here please."

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

You were rudely awakened by the repeated taps on the glass, a suspicious silhouette moving around the see-through curtain. You sit up, quietly grabbing a lamp on the bedside table and tiptoeing towards the window, you slightly jumped when the shadow knocked again.

You took a deep breath, raising the lamp on your left hand and slowly pulling the curtains to the side. You yelped when you were met with Jake's face pressed onto the glass of the window, clad in an all black outfit and you had to physically stop yourself from laughing with how hysterical he looks.

"Jake?! What the fuck?!" you whisper-yelled, putting the lamp down on your dresser and quickly unlocking the window, ushering him to get in before someone sees him and calls the police.

"What are you doing here?! And in the middle of the night? Do you have any idea that people might t-"

Yes, because life is not that easy and clichéd that a tree would be conveniently placed right in front of your window on the second floor of your home. Jake has to work for it.

"I have ice cream. You didn't get to eat yours today." he shoves a plastic bag in your face, effectively cutting you off as he huffs and puffs, probably out of breath since he had to climb the tree behind your house and go over the roof so he could sneak into your bedroom.

"I don't want it." you uttered, trudging towards your door and opening it, nudging your head downstairs, "Please leave, I'll be nice enough to escort you out."

You weren't looking at him, you don't have it in you to take him in because you're weak. You're not strong enough to stay mad at him, you know that one gaze into his starry eyes and you're gone, and you couldn't afford to do that.

Still, you should've checked at least once because hearing the plastic being dropped on some furniture and his incoming footsteps made you assume that he's done, that he's leaving, which was not the case.

A surprised gasp left you when Jake's hand grasped yours that was holding the knob, closing the door with a slight thud and he easily towers over you. An uncharacteristic intensity in his usually warm orbs made your knees buckle, your heart rate speeding up when you realized that his masculine body has you trapped. Most importantly, his musky perfume makes you dizzy, clouding your ability to make sound judgement.

"I came here to see you, so no, I'll politely decline the offer of me leaving so soon." he murmurs, his hot breath cascading down your cheeks, and you got even more flustered when his free hand gripped your chin, leniently guiding your vision towards him.

"Please, Y/N, baby. Will you let me explain what happened earlier?" he rasps, earnestly peeking into your own eyes as he searches for an answer that he desperately needed.

You'll blame his perfume, his minty breath, his insanely attractive voice, and the sudden romantic ambience of the room. You'll inculpate anything at this point except your fragile self, because is it supposed to be your fault if Jake has the ability to render you defenseless against his overwhelming power over you?

A shaky sigh escapes you, nodding your head absentmindedly. The petname surely haa an effect on you, to which you could only describe as a whole circus playing around your whole nervous system.

"Jake.."

"There is nothing going on between me and that bitch, okay? I only care about you," he pulls your interconnected hands from the knob, bringing it to his lips and gently pecks your knuckles, "I'll drop anything just to be by your side, you know that right?"

"Please baby, I'm so sorry. I will never get in touch with her ever again. I'm so fucking sorry, I don't- I hate it when you cry, I hate it when you're sad. Please let me make it up to you. Please let me show you how much you mean to me."

You're not an impulsive person, as you'd like to believe, you tend to think first before doing something that you might regret in the future, but as of now, none of that matters.

For the first time in your life, you took the initiative, connecting your lips with Jake's, pouring all of your emotions in one emotional kiss. He wasted no time in returning it, turning his face sideways to deepen the liplock.

Jake was brought back to reality when he felt you suck on his lower lip, opening his eyes in a haste and pulling away from you.

So this is what it felt like to kiss your plush, glossy lips. This is what it felt like to hold you in a way that is more than just some fucking friends.

This is what feels like to have you. Intoxicating, addicting, and astronomically out of his wildest dreams.

"I don't think we should d-" he starts, but you hushed him by placing your index finger above his lips.

This is.. wrong. You are in a relationship, right? You two shouldn't be doing this.

"Jake," you whisper his name with such mirth, "show me how much I mean to you.. please."

That was the last thing Jake needed, throwing out whatever rationality remaining in his brain in exchange for the yearning that he desired for so many years.

He groaned when you willingly opened your mouth for him, allowing him to slip his tongue in, licking every corner of your cavern. You let his wet appendage graze your teeth before moving your own to clash with his. Both are battling for dominance in this wild exchange of saliva which he easily won, and you couldn't keep your moans at bay when he sucked on your tongue.

Pressing his lips into yours once more, a heated make-out ensues with him leading the way, wrapping his arms around your waist and compressing you between his body and the door, wanting to lessen the distance. He wanted more, he needed more, and he sure as hell will make the most out of this.

He'll act as a clueless villain if it means that he'll be able to steal the most precious gemstone that's already owned by someone.

But who fucking cares?

How could one say that it's wrong when everything feels so right? No one is qualified to dictate shit when the pieces of the shattered past are starting to recollect themselves, turning into a masterpiece called a forbidden tryst.

"Keep it down baby, don't want your parents to barge in here don't we?" he muttered against your lips, head moving to your clavicle and you instinctively craned your neck to the side, giving him the permission to paint you with the most colorful hues of blue and purple.

Jake breathes through his nose, inhaling your rousing vanilla and strawberry fragrance. This is what he's ever dreamed of. You, in his arms, being able to mark you as his and only his.

One rainy day, he woke up only to realize that he wanted to be the man to make you happy. He wanted to cook meals with you, travel around the world, take candid photos of you and set it as his wallpaper. He wanted to be the person that you'll meet at the end of the church isle.

He couldn't exactly recall when it all started.

Was it when you cried over that dimpled man back during 8th grade? Or was it when he saw you in your ball gown for prom? He has no idea, but he does know that he's prepared to give and let go of everything just for you.

Jake clutches on your waist even tighter, nuzzling his nose in the nook of your neck and leaving feathery kisses up to your mastoid. He smiled when he heard you giggle, biting your ear lobe teasingly, "Still ticklish I see."

You poked his side in retaliation, making him jump and shriek a bit, "So are you."

"Why you little-!" Jake carried you like a sack of potatoes, dropping you on the cushions haphazardly yet you felt his palm on the back of your head, acting as an insulation so the impact won't hurt you.

"You'll be sorry for that." he says with a smirk, wedging himself in between your legs, and before you could reply, he kissed you deeply, proceeding to attack your neck with pecks and bites, sucking in the spot that had you gripping his hair.

His hand started to explore your body, tracing your shape and going inside your shirt, stopping right under your boobs. Jake lifted himself off, his eyes speaking for himself, silently asking you if it's alright to remove your clothes.

You nodded and started peeling off the shirt, the fabric getting comically stuck on your forehead (that's what you get for wearing clothes from your junior high days). You both laughed at the witless situation, and despite all that, you felt him help you out of the predicament but not without leaving a kiss on the exposed lower half of your face.

When the shirt is finally out of the way, you hastily remove your shorts as well, leaving you in nothing but a pair of panties because yes, you did not put on a bra, finding it ridiculous to wear one inside your own house.

You suddenly felt conscious when you noticed that Jake was unmoving and you found yourself covering your upper body, a movement that made the boy snap out of his daze.

"No, baby don't cover up," he grins sweetly at you, gulping down his nerves, "sorry, you're gorgeous, I can't help but admire."

You bit your lower lip, glancing at him and tugging at his own clothes, "Then be fair, give me something to admire too." you shyly said, avoiding eye contact when you saw him grin.

Jake instantly shrugged every piece of his attire, baring his all to you, and your eyes almost popped out of their sockets because what the hell?

Of course you knew he was well built, his fitted outfits leave nothing to the imagination at times, but fuck you to the moon and back, you did not expect him to be this muscular. He has abs! For goodness sake, you weren't prepared, and it shows since Jake has to boop you in the nose to get you out of your daydream.

"I know the view is amazing," he gently laid you down, positioning himself on top of you, "but tonight is all about you, darling."

He pulled you in for another solid minute of make-out session, this time though, he touches you with more fervor. Snaking his hand on your chest, gripping your left boob and lowering his head down to give the other the rightful attention it deserves.

You moaned his name when he suckled on your nipple, tongue circling around the areola and occasionally biting to add more to the sensation. He used his fingers to twitch and pull on the other nipple, his other hand trailing over your stomach, down to the navel until it reaches your heat. He experimentally dipped a finger, gathering your juices and groaning at how wet you are for him.

"Baby, you're dripping and I've only done the bare minimum." he mutters, releasing your nipple with a pop and staring down at you with desire written all over his features, "You really want me that bad?"

"Yes Jake," you answered without any hint of doubt, "I want you god, please, do something." you begged, and who was he to say no to his beautiful baby.

"Your wish is my command, princess." he grinned, going into full action as he slid down, coming face to face with your core.

Princess.

You weren't able to delve deeper into your thoughts when you felt a finger inside your pussy, a warm mouth lapping at your wetness and sucking on your clit harshly. Your back arches when another digit goes inside you, going at a moderate yet wonderful pace every time it curls and hits a spot that had you curling your toes.

There was only one person who called you that. It should hit you by now that this is taboo... but it's just one night.

After this, you'll move on and act like nothing happened. Isn't it?

"Right there!" you moaned, getting closer to your orgasm, Jake sensing this made adjustments to his ministrations, basically going into feral mode. His deft fingers pumped in and out of you vigorously, his sucking, add to that the small nips in your bundle of nerves are getting too much for you to handle.

"Cum for me." he uttered, and the mini encouragement and vibration from his voice had you undone within a few seconds. Gushing into his face which he happily guzzled on, not stopping until you told him to stop, sensitive from the overstimulation.

He went up to your face and you could see the shiny slick on his lips, "That felt good?"

You smile, pulling him in for a kiss, tasting yourself in his tongue, "Very much, but what about you?"

"Baby, didn't I tell you that tonight's all about you?" he shakes his head, using his own limbs to spread your thighs open, allowing him to slot himself in the middle, goosebumps raising on your skin when you feel his tip prod at your entrance.

"Then what are you waiting for?" you taunt, wrapping your legs around his waist, pressing him closer to your soaking cunt. "Take me, Jake."

You really have a way with words or maybe you have this effect on him like magic, whenever you talk, all he could think about is making you his.

Inch by inch, he inserted his big, fat cock inside you and you know, because you feel it. The way he stretches you out just the right way, the vein on the side of his dick pulses every time you clenched on him, and when he finally bottomed in, you both let out a sigh that you didn't know you were holding.

Jake grits his teeth, putting the tip in and he thinks he's crazy because it's just the head but your pussy is sucking him all in and it almost made him cum.

He calmed himself down, if he's intending to pleasure you as much as he could, he's sure as hell to make himself last longer than usual.

He lets you adjust to his length, taking in a slow pace when you whispered for him to move. Gently rocking his hips onto yours, making sure that he wasn't hurting you in any sort.

Then you begged for him to move faster, harder, truly, you're making this more difficult than it's supposed to be. He could hardly contain himself, but the more you egged him on, the more he lets loose.

"Ah!" you cried out when Jake lets a rather ruthless thrust, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously and it was getting him drunk off of you. He got a taste of you, and it'll be difficult to stop. He rammed into you mercilessly, the creaking of the bed was the least of your concerns now as you're more focused on the delightful feeling he's giving you, unconsciously scratching his back.

Your warm, wet walls hugged his cock so nicely that it made him believe that your pussy is made for him. Truly, every time he pushes in, you get tighter and it feels like paradise.

Jake hisses at the pain, but it motivated him to no end, knowing that you love what he's doing to you right now.

Knowing that the reason you're acting like this is because he's doing you, as of the moment.

Nothing matters but the hushed moans of his name on your lips, he doesn't care about anything other than how good you feel.

You weren't in a good condition either, you're losing grasp of what's real, drooling mindlessly at the delight you're receiving. The man on top of you gives it his all, fucking you with all his strength as his length hits all the perfect spots inside you, making your eyes roll and see stars at the back of your brain.

Jake really tried to hold on, but your sudden release made your walls squeeze his cock, a low groan coming out of him as he cursed and complimented you on how well you're doing for him.

"Baby, I'm close." he warned you, sweat forming on his forehead and dripping down to your cheeks, and he finds it so hot when you darted your tongue out to lick the salty substance away.

"Inside, Jake. Please come inside me."

"Are you sure?" he slowed down a bit, peering into your eyes for confirmation.

Then you cupped his face, smiling at him lovingly, "Yes, I trust you."

That was all it took for him to release his seed inside you, thrusting shallowly to ride out his high until he collapsed on top of you, rolling over and slipping out of your walls when you halfheartedly complained about how heavy he is.

He finally did it.

Jake felt like a champion, one chance was enough for him and he's thanking all of the deities out there internally for giving him the opportunity to show you the love he's been meaning to shower you with.

He felt his body stiffen when you laid your head on his chest, telling him to stay, but what terrified him the most was when he listened to your request and naturally wrapped his arms around you.

Jake focused on you, combing your hair using his fingers as he watches you drift into dreamland.

You look ethereal like this, glowing under the dim light of the street lamps outside and how he wishes for you to continue being with him like this until you're grey and old.

He'll slip out of bed later, (couldn't risk getting caught by your family in the morning), and write you a note to make sure that you won't feel like shit when you wake up. For now, he'll relish in the blanket of your warmth and even breathing.

The boy sighs, his hand moving to your back, fingers lightly tracing his name over your smooth skin,

'J A K E '

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

taglist

@deobitifull

[sunlightandsuffering]

I'm not sure if this is long enough for me to bother posting it as a chapter, BUT MORE SACRILEGE FOR THE PPL AND BC THEY'RE SO CUTE AND UNHINGED !!

Does Eren feel great about corrupting the local church’s youth group leader and shining example of chastity? No, not really, in fact, his mother would probably murder him for it if she ever found out. 

But in the meantime, he’s sure stories of his ‘new girlfriend’ and possible marriage prospect will mollify her.

Or at least he hopes so, but regardless, that is the least of Eren’s problems. His biggest problem is the pain in the ass cadet he’s been assigned as a partner for the last week and a half of Armin’s paternity leave and said local churchgoing sweetheart’s ex-boyfriend. All in all, Eren has embroiled himself in a plot quite fitting for the church. He can see the headline now, ‘Local Cop Seduces Innocent Church Girl, Leaves Hopeful Cadet Destitute’.

“I hate him,” Jean is muttering darkly from Armin’s desk across from him, fidgeting with his pen in agitation. If only Jean knew that Eren is the ‘him’ he’s referring to. Instead, he’s simply been subjected to a singular break up text, and several quotes about the bible and forgiveness splashed across Mikasa’s instagram story. 

If Eren weren’t in the middle of it he’d find the entire plot amusing, but he doesn’t want Jean to become more irritating than he already is. 

The rhythmic click, click, click of Jean’s pen clicking is what finally sets Eren over the edge. “Leave your personal shit at home, Kirstchein, we have a job to do and that paperwork isn’t going to complete itself.” Jean looks like a kicked puppy as he turns back towards his paperwork, appropriately chastised by his superior, and for a split second Eren almost feels bad for the man. 

But then Mikasa sends him a nude, and he doesn’t feel so bad for the asshole anymore. 

Shoving his phone into one of the many deep pockets of his standard-issue cargo pants Eren stands up, imposing compared the heartbroken cadet in front of him.

“We have shit to do Kirschtein, we’ve got a drug bust in an hour and you’re fucking moping. Get it together.” 

Jean glowers for a moment before booting up his now sleeping computer again and Eren sighs, heading towards the break room to grab a snack, he truly does not get paid enough for this shit. 

How old is he? Seventeen? Because that’s the kind of teenaged nonsense he’s dealing with from his cadet, it’s ridiculous. He grumbles mostly to himself as he snatches a pre-packaged rice krispy treat from the communal bowl on the counter, this is how bad it is, he’s actually fucking eating carbs and sugary ones at that. Whereas Eren is typically infamous for following his regimented diet, continually topping the leaderboards at every physical training camp, Jean’s drama has stressed him out so much that he’s actually fucking eating sugar. 

Eren tears the blue wrapper apart with his teeth before ripping into the sweet treat with dark intent, stupid fucking cadets and overdramatic church girls. Stocking back into the main office space Eren promises himself no more bullshit, from here one it’s police work only. He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this shit on the job. He’s about to give Jean another lecture, hoping this time it’ll stick, but as he approaches their desk clump he finds Jean on his phone, a looking of absolute betrayal on his face. “Jean what the fuck are you looking at I thought I said–” Eren snatches the phone from his hands only to find Mikasa’s god-damned Instagram story. The cute little icon of her face lighting up the corner of the screen along with a large pink background and some sort of cursive looking font splashed across the screen. “If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.”

James 1:5

Fuck. The pink image switches as the story runs out, and suddenly the screen is black, lit up with pink writing as another bible verse is proudly proclaimed across her story. 

“Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.”

Psalms 37:4

The screen changes again and Eren groans, handing the phone back to Jean who can only be describes as looking utterly betrayed. His pain in the ass little churchgoer has been posting passive-aggressive bible verses on her story all morning from the looks of it, splashes across her social media in varying shades of pink. 

Eren checks his own phone curiously, only to find there’s another notification from said little churchgoer, and from the looks of it, it’s probably another nude. 

God what the fuck has he gotten himself into. “I’m sorry Eren, I just - I can’t, we were together for four years! She was going to give me her virginity, we were going to be each other’s firsts.” Eren winces at that particular comment, because he’d taken Mikasa’s virginity rather spiritedly on the altar of their church, had actually fucked the lord right out of her he’d like to think. Although, judging by the mess of bible verses painted across her social media, there’s at least a little bit of religious insanity left in her. “I have to make a call,” Eren tells Jean abruptly, leaving the cadet to wallow, “Get your shit together by the time I come back.” 

Eren barely makes it outside the precinct before he’s holding the phone to his ear, Mikasa’s number dialed already and ringing insistently. 

She answers on the third ring, sounding breathless, “Eren–” “The bible verses Mikasa? Really?” He’s utterly exasperated and he’s sure she can tell by the way she sighs on the other end of the line, “I just think it’s important that the rest of my community knows that breaking up with Jean was God’s will Eren.” “Mikasa I fucked you on the altar okay, that wasn’t God’s will, I was horny and that was good fucking weed.” He can practically feel her scowl on the other end of the line, “God never gives us more than we can handle Eren, and now I have my ring, it was all his will. The congregation just needs to understand that, and so does my youth group.”

“You couldn’t just tell them you found someone else?” 

Mikasa gasps in affront over the line, “He gave me a promise ring Eren, it’s highly frowned upon within the community to rescind commitment so easily.” 

“You rescinded it pretty easily for me.”

“Because I knew God sent you to me, to put me on the right path.” “You’re absolutely unhinged, you know that, right?” There's silence for a moment, and then there's a breathier quality to her voice as she taunts him,“I’m also not wearing panties.”

“Did God tell you not to?” Eren quips right back, and Mikasa chuckles throatily on the other end of the line, “Can you come home on your lunch break?” 

Eren glances at the clock, cursing at the time, he’s spent far too long talking to his pain in the ass girlfriend. “No, I have to get back now, stop posting bible verses on your story and keep looking at your other university options Mika, I want you to get in on time.” At this, he can feel her wilt through the phone, she’s been stressed as hell since her falling out with her parents and subsequent break up with Jean. As a consequence she no longer has a full ride scholarship to Shiganshina bible college and she’s been stressed about schooling ever since.  Not that Eren had any desire to encourage that particular path of schooling, but he doesn’t want to derail her entire life, doesn’t want to be the mistake she looks back on as the reason she doesn’t have a career or didn’t go to college. 

Since accidentally stealing Jean’s girlfriend Eren has found he more than cares about the religious spitfire, might even love her, just a little. She may be unhinged as all hell, and devout to the point of delusion, but at heart, she’s a good person, if not a brat. His girlfriend had just been a little… misguided. 

She’d worked hard to get into nursing school, and Eren will be damned if he’s the reason she doesn’t get into another one. “Baby,” He intones and Mikasa sighs loudly, “Fine, I’ll work on my cover letter again.” He catches himself as a smile quirks at his lips, “Stop sending me nudes and send me the rough draft, I’ll look at it after my drug bust.” “Oh my God, you’re so boring.” “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain Mikasa,” He sing songs, and she growls on the other end of the line before hanging up. Maybe God really doesn’t give people more than they can handle, who is to say? Whatever, Eren doesn’t believe in any of that bullshit anyway. He turns back towards the precinct, phone tucked into his pants, “Kirschtein you’d better not still be mooning over that crazy religious nut you call an ex-girlfriend.” 

He is so totally going to hell. 

She shows up at around dinner time, eight hours into his twelve-hour shift, and firmly destroying any hopes of having a peaceful Wednesday night catching up on paperwork. 

She’s balanced delicately on the edge of his desk, glowering at Jean like he’s the one who’s wronged her. 

And even at eleven on a Wednesday night, she’s scantily clad, dressed in ripped jeans and a low cut scoop-neck sweater that catches Eren’s attention immediately. Because just like the first time he met her, her cleavage is eye-catching, his girlfriend’s tits are the stuff of wet dreams, the kind of breasts you show to plastic surgeons as inspo pics. 

And Jean is fucking staring at them. 

Was Mikasa Jean’s girlfriend first? Yes, yes she definitely was, and he has no doubt that despite her previous virginal status that Jean has ample experience with her rack. Doesn’t stop Eren from being pissed off that his douche canoe cadet is staring at his girlfriend’s rack. 

Jean is looking at her with simply too much interest, lust shining in his eyes as he looks her up and down, unable to look away from the plump milky tops of her breasts. 

Eren won’t have it. 

They’re arguing as he approaches them, half-assed insults on Jean’s part and scathing words from Mikasa that have Eren biting back a grin. 

“You’re a boy Jean, I needed a man, and God finally sent him to me.” This is Eren’s cue to make an entrance, and he sure does, barely sparing Jean a glance, instead wrapping a hand around Mikasa’s waist, blocking Jean’s view of her lithe little body. Without an ounce of hesitation, Eren dips his head into a low bow, worshipful as he places a kiss on each breast, wet, sloppy and leaving a sheen of saliva in his wake. Mikasa squeaks at the contact, not expecting the touch, and at her sweet little noise he can’t help but press one more loving kiss to the creamy flesh, his hands skating up over her waist to give her beautiful tits a squeeze. It’s quick, fleeting, just enough to make her smile turn dopey, eyes fogging over with desire, and he’s sure her sweet nipples are hard already, wants nothing more than to kiss her tits all day, but alas he has things to do. He completes his greeting with a kiss to her lips, long and slow with plenty of tongue, a hello that has Mikasa sighing into his mouth, melting in his arms. When he finally pulls back she is utterly dazed, his sweet little church girl the picture of debauchery, lips swollen with his kisses, and her sweater now slightly askew. Eren doesn’t acknowledge Jean at all as he greets her, one last squeeze to her hip as he gets her settled against his desk, “Hi baby.” This is what finally causes Jean to explode. 

“Baby? Mikasa this is the man you’re dating?” Eren glances back at him curiously, lying through his teeth as he asks, “Problem Kirschtein?” As if he didn’t steal the little spitfire right out from under his useless cadet.

Mikasa continues to say nothing, looking up at Eren adoringly and finally Jean snaps, gesturing towards the little pixie in his arms, “Eren, this is my ex-girlfriend.” “The one who dumped you for a better guy?” Jean growls in irritation, “That’s the one.” 

Eren shrugs, pressing his cheek against the soft strands of her hair, inhaling her sweet vanilla scent, “Oops.” Jean looks like he’s about to commit murder in the middle of the precinct but Eren is unconcerned, only tugs Mikasa a little bit closer, “Sorry cadet, it just kind of happened.” 

“How?” Jean grits out and Mikasa answers for him this time, snapping out of her kiss-induced daze, “Jean I told you I wasn’t feeling fulfilled in our relationship, it wasn’t what the lord wanted for me. But Eren–” She turns to look up at him lovingly, “He’s what I need, I just know it.” 

“What exactly is it that you need that I can’t provide, Mikasa?” A firm fucking hand that’s what but Eren refrains from that particular comment, knowing it will start world war three when he would much rather leave in a few hours. 

Mikasa reaches out at that, taking Jean’s hand, looking up at him so seriously, Eren would almost think that God was speaking through her, if he believed in God that is. “Guidance,” She tells Jean firmly, and Eren has to hold back a laugh because yeah, sexual guidance maybe, how the fuck did he end up in bed with this crazy little lunatic?

“What about our pastor, what about our parents–” “Shh,” Mikasa quiets Jean, “My decision has been made, and I made it in the eyes of the lord,” she spares a glance back at Eren that secretive little smile on her face, and he almost groans, because they sure did fucking make that decision in the eyes of the lord, right in front of his fucking salad actually, front and centre, no escape. 

Jean is looking at them both in complete and utter affront, a vein standing out prominently on his forehead, “Adultery is a sin you know.” Mikasa scoffs, “So is pride Jean, now if you would be so kind as to swallow yours I would like to spend the last ten minutes of my fiancée’s break with him.” This proves to be the wrong thing to say because Jean gasps, “There’s no way he’s going to marry you Mikasa, Officer Yeager doesn’t seem like the committed type.” 

Mikasa levels a murderous glare at his cadet and Eren continues to enjoy the show, smoothing a hand over her hip to keep the little heathen from leaping over their desks to claw his eyes out. “We’ve already set a date,” Mikasa tells him primly, before turning her back to his cadet dismissively. She’s pouting now as she looks up at him, her hand clutched in the folds of his uniform just a little too tightly for her to be totally okay. 

Eren presses a light kiss to her forehead before leaning down to her ear, a playful nip to the lobe before he suggests they take a breather, “You wanna hang out in my patrol car for the rest of my break.” She nods, leaning into him a little more, pressing the full weight of her delicate little body against him, “Yeah, I’d like that.” Eren leads her out by the elbow, Jean still fuming behind them, and fuck he knows exactly what he’s going to have to deal with later and it’s not good.

But something occurs to him as they edge out the doors of the precinct, keys jingling in his hand, “Mikasa, baby?” “Yeah?” She turns back, the picture-perfect scene of beauty, her hair falling in silky waves down her back, stunning as ever with that pretty face, and her tits trying to steal all his attention. “Did the Lord tell you to wear panties with that little outfit?” A mischievous smile blooms on her face before she’s sprinting towards his car, her reply caught in the wind of the night, “No!” 

Fucking bratty church girls, now he has to fuck her in his patrol car, it’s just good sense.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading TGCF: Chapter 38

For those who don't know, I am reading TGCF for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag Bloopitynoot reads TGCF. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read BUT if you followed along with my SVSSS read, the rules and vibe are the same.

Getting a snow day as an adult absolutely hits different.

Due to the inclement weather my work closed! As per our collective, in these cases we do not work from home, but we do get paid for the day :D

Last night Skylar and I made a deal, if there was a "snow day" then we would open our valentine's day gifts a day early. This stunning glass teapot and the new cup (set of 4) were what Skylar got me!

I love them so much. I broke them in with the almond, rose, and amaranth tea :'3

Let's get into chapter 38!

okay! we're getting the backstory for the Human Face Disease! p163

The art :'3 I will say this is a much better depiction of the human face disease (imo) than the previous one we saw with the bandaged boy. You can really see the human face in this one. p164

We have established the disease is contagious as fuck, but I really want to know what caused it in the first place. p169

Wait is this inhuman tree-corpse where the guy (Lang Ying) buried his son? Also, ofc in the middle of an emergency they also have to deal with a war attack. p171

This is wild to me. The people would rather die than live with some marks on their face. So dramatic and fucked up. p173

Honestly, I would 100% believe it was a product of a curse too. Especially with no one from Yong'an getting the disease. p175

Feng Xin, LOL, this guy, "so we just order everyone to work out?" no my guy, that is not how this works. p177

"some old rules" is honestly genius. If two people arguing had to argue that way, I think the problems would be solved like 80% of the time. p180. Their old married couple bickering tactic, Xie Lian as couple's therapist.

I am struggling a bit of the messaging in this arc. It feels very much like it's "you cannot change fate" or "your actions are irrelevant". Like I am unsure what the theme I, because if it is one of both of those two, I call bullshit. p183

And another thing! This speech by Lang Ying about counting on himself instead is also wild. Why are the gods even a thing at this point if they can't do anything for people. p186

This is going south so fast with Lang Ying being marked for ascension/kinghood (is that a word, whatever it is now lol) and Xianle taking a hit with Xie Lian failing. p188

WHAT THE FUCK! I thought they just had face scars/marks. The faces are screaming and eating things now :(((((((((((((((((((((((((. OMG. Now I get why people would choose an exit. p189

WAIT. This white no-face has the face of Xie Lian??? What does this mean?? p200.

Why did this chapter end with so many exclamation points

What a wild ride, I feel like we are on the cusp of catastrophe now, I'm at this point, waiting for the roller coaster to crest and watch everything go downhill.

Gah!

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Platonic Yandere Paulie and little sister reader

Fix This

Yandere Paulie x Little Sister Reader

2.7k words

“I’m gonna kill him,” you panted out between breaths. Dock One of the Galley-La Company had finally come into view, and while you were relieved to have made it here, it was overshadowed by how pissed you were.

Why were you so mad? Because you just spent the past HOUR running from your brother’s gaggle of debt collectors. You aren’t sure who’s more stupid here. His dumbass for continuously taking out loans when he hasn’t paid back a single one yet, or them for being dumb enough to keep giving him money.

It would seem that you’ve got a target on your back purely by association. After years of not being able to get a penny out of him, they’re now trying to shake you down for money. Which, in your humble opinion, was bullshit.

You hop over the rope divider to enter the dock and look around. Paulie isn’t anywhere to be seen. If he’s left to do more gambling, you’re gonna strangle him with his own ropes.

Spotting one of your fellow foremen, you make your way over to him, “Hey Kaku, have you seen Paulie?”

“He’s been pacing the fence looking for you,” Kaku answered before even turning around to face you. Once he did, he looked surprised at your appearance, “You look whacked, did something happen?”

“Oh it’s nothing, I just spent the past hour running from my stupid brother’s bad decisions,” you grumbled. At this moment, all you wanted to do was sit down and catch your breath, but you needed to give Paulie a piece of your mind first. Possibly with your fists.

“There you are! Do you have any idea how late you are?!” 

Speak of the devil. Without even looking at him you could feel your anger spiking again. This guy had the audacity to cop an attitude with you even though he was at fault. Kaku wisely went back to what he was working on, not wanting to be caught in the middle of this.

Paulie stomped closer and grabbed your shoulder to make you face him. With how mad you were, this was a bad move. The second you were turned towards him, you violently shoved him away. You were looking at him with nothing but contempt, and he visibly flinched from how scorching the look was.

He cleared his throat and found the nerve to continue talking, “Don’t give me that look! You’re damn near an hour late, where have you been?”

“Ask your debt collectors,” you seethed. Each word was ground out with malice as you continued to glower at him. 

“What do they have to do with this?” Despite the question, you could tell he already knew what you were getting at. Yet here he was, playing dumb.

You threw your hands up in frustration, “Everything! From the second I left our home they were on my ass! It took me an hour to lose those pricks!” 

“Why would they be after you? Are you also borrowing money?” This guy had the audacity to take on a scolding tone towards you. You want to throttle him.

Your hands shot out and brought him to eye level with you, “No, dumbass! They’re after me because YOU won’t fucking pay them!”

“Hey! Watch your language, that is not lady like at all!”

“This is not about my fucking language! This is about your stupid ass decisions getting me into trouble! If it weren’t for you borrowing money around the damn clock with zero intention of ever paying it back, this wouldn’t happen!” You shoved him away and took a step back.

Paulie fumbled for a minute to find a decent response, “I- I will pay it back, I just need to get lucky is all.” Well, that wasn’t a decent answer at all.

“You can’t be serious,” you stared at him like he was insane, which in this moment you think he was to be honest. “What do you mean you need to ‘get lucky’?! That’s never going to happen, you suck at gambling! You couldn’t win a game of poker even if you knew everyone’s hands!”

“Excuse you! Those games are rigged, that’s all! I just need to figure out how to play the system and I’ll make everything back and then some,” Paulie huffed indignantly.

Something about how he responded made your fury finally reach its boiling point, and you screamed at him, “Of course the games are rigged! That’s how casinos make money: by taking advantage of dumbasses like you!” 

“What’s going on here?”

Both you and Paulie snap your heads toward the new voice. Mortification set it as you recognized your boss standing there. Iceburg just witnessed you getting into a screaming match with your brother at work.

“(Y/N) and Paulie are arguing because (y/n) was chased around the city by his debt collectors,” Kalifa readjusted her glasses while stating this like it was well known information. How she knows all this is beyond you. That woman must have eyes and ears everywhere, you’re sure of it.

Your resentment simmered down, but only from embarrassment. Tears burned at your eyes as you desperately tried to keep them from surfacing. This was humiliating. At the very least, Iceburg was a kind man and didn’t reprimand you. Instead he asked, “Is that why your jacket is torn? Are you hurt?”

“Torn?” That was news to you. Giving yourself a quick once over, you found what he was referring to. The seam on your left shoulder was ripped open. Oh, right. This must have happened when one of them grabbed you. You were able to rip yourself away, but it appears your jacket was a casualty. 

“Yeah, that’s why. I’m not hurt though, just upset,” the jacket was shrugged off. You didn’t want to wear it if it looked like this. You could fix it tonight when you got home.

“It looks like you were hurt, unless that bruise is from something else,” Iceburg stepped closer and stared at your wrist. Sure enough, there was a bruise in its early stages forming on your wrist where you were grabbed. So that’s why it felt sore.

“Oh, yeah I guess that’s where it came from. I didn’t even notice that until now,” you mumbled. You can’t believe those guys caught you off guard enough to do this to you. Last week you took out three pirates with a plank of wood when they tried to skip out on their bill, but some middle aged loan shark managed to get the drop on you. Shameful. 

Kalifa muttered something about this being sexual harassment, and Iceberg nodded in agreement. He gingerly held your wrist to examine it, “Do you want to take the day off? It would be a bad idea to strain this now and make it worse.”

You snatched your wrist away, “No, that’s okay! I’m fine, really! It doesn’t even hurt.” This wasn’t a complete lie. It was more so tender than outright painful. The last thing you wanted was to sit at home and stew on everything that happened, you would much rather be working.

Iceburg raised a brow at this, but mercifully spared your dignity by not forcing the matter. Returning back to his full height, he promised you that he would deal with the debt collectors targeting people that weren’t involved in their dealings. With that, he bid you all farewell and left.

The silence was heavy and uncomfortable. You could feel Paulie’s eyes on you, but you didn’t want to face him, lest you two start fighting again. 

“I uh- I’ve got a job for us to work on together today, we should get started on that,” you took solace in the fact that he sounded as uncomfortable as you felt.

“Sorry, I already told Kaku I would work with him today, actually,” you lied through your teeth. Working with Paulie would be a horrible idea right now, you can’t imagine why he thinks it’s a good one.

“Seriously? Come on, (y/n), I know you’re mad but don’t be like this. It’s not a big deal, we can talk about it while we work.”

“Not a big deal?!” You snapped. Shit, you’re yelling again. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm down, you continue, “It’s a big deal to me. I mean it. If you don’t get your shit together and get your debts straightened out soon, I’m going to leave.” 

Being harassed by his enemies is something you’ve been dealing with since you were a kid. Back then they would just follow you around for an intimidation effect, but it seems like the gloves have come off now that you’re an adult. Years of this have worn you down, and now you’re at a breaking point.

“The hell do you mean you’re going to leave?” His voice sounded shockingly cold, you’re not sure you’ve ever heard him talk like that. Especially not to you.

“I mean that if this happens again, I will leave Water 7,” you looked him dead in the eyes, daring him to challenge you.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, Paulie, I do. With my resume I could get a job at any shipyard in the world, so don’t test me,” you didn’t break eye contact once, hoping to get across how serious you are.

He was the first to look away. “I’ll get it taken care of,” is all he said before walking away.

Letting out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, you join Kaku with picking out lumber for some ship repairs, “Thanks for not ratting me out.”

“It makes no odds,” he reassured you. Kaku quickly glanced around and then leaned down to whisper, “I have to ask though, did you mean what you said about leaving, or was that all horsefeathers?”

Horsefeathers? You assume that means something along the lines of bullshit. Whatever, Kaku says weird shit all the time. You shrugged, “I dunno, maybe? I don’t really want to leave; I love living here, but I don’t want to spend my life facing the consequences of someone else’s actions, you know?”

Kaku hummed in acknowledgement and nodded, “That holds water, I understand you wanting to. Besides, a change of pace might be good for you.”

“You think so?” Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to agree and encourage you. It was nice though to have someone supporting you.

“Sure do! Paulie’s been in the ketchup for so long that I can’t imagine him getting out any time soon. Perhaps you leaving would kick him into gear?”

“In the ketchup?” You laughed, “I swear you’re making half these weird things you say up!”

“Am not! It’s a real saying, young lady!” His tone was scolding, but in a playful way.

“We’re like the same age, don’t call me ‘young lady’!” You elbowed him in the side. 

You two fell into a comfortable and casual banter for the rest of the day, which was refreshing. It really helped to take your mind off the problem at hand and cool off. By the time you were ready to go home, you were feeling calm enough to be able to have a reasonable discussion with Paulie.

That’s not to say you weren’t still upset, but you don’t think you’ll be yelling at him anymore. Unless he says something stupid, but at that point whatever happens isn’t on you.

Typically, you’ll walk home together. In the mornings he leaves before you do since he has some extra duties, but in the evening you’ll usually leave together. Sometimes even stopping to get food on the way back. Tonight, though, he was already gone. Internally, you cringe. Is he still mad? You suppose it’s possible, you could tell that what you said about leaving really hurt him.

Walking back alone made you a bit anxious after what happened this morning. You were constantly looking over your shoulder to make sure you weren’t being tailed. Fortunately, you weren’t seeing anything suspicious. Did Iceburg really take care of this that quickly? Or maybe Kalifa handled it. Her kicks were no joke, that’s for sure.

Entering your shared home, you’re surprised to see that Paulie isn’t home yet. Was he avoiding you? How mature. Rolling your eyes, you toss your torn jacket onto the couch and go rummaging through the closet for the sewing kit you keep on hand for basic repairs.

You’d barely had a chance to start stitching the seam when the front door opened. Paulie came in looking annoyed. He didn’t appear to even see you as he stomped into the kitchen to grab something from the fridge. A beer, presumably. You sighed and resumed repairing your jacket.

His footsteps came towards the living room and came to a stop in the archway. It was silent for a moment, “You’re home?”

“Yep,” you replied. Why does he sound so surprised? Did he think you were just going to peace out after work? 

Paulie joined you on the couch, the cushions dipping under his weight. You still hadn’t looked at him. The silence wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t as tense as it was at the shipyard. He took a long drink from his beer, “Please don’t leave.”

“Don’t drag me into your problems then. If it wasn’t for that I wouldn’t be thinking about it,” you answered stiffly.

“It’s not going to happen again, I took care of it.”

You scoffed, “You took care of it on the way home? What? Did you rob a bank? Or maybe some pirates?” Pulling the invisible stitch tight, you finally look his way. His hair is a mess and his clothes are dirtier than usual. Most noticeably, his knuckles were bloody. “What did you do?”

“I took care of it,” he repeated. 

“How?” You pressed.

“That doesn’t matter, what matters is you promising that you aren’t going to leave,” he took another drink.

“It does matter, I want to know what happened!” From the context clues, it looks like he jumped them. You’re not exactly fond of those people, but they are just trying to get their money back. Beating the shit out of them feels excessive.

Paulie grabbed your face, forcing you to keep looking at him, “Promise me that you aren’t leaving! You can’t leave!”

You wrenched your face away, “God, fine! I promise! Now will you talk to me?” Paulie didn’t answer, instead looking away. You huffed in aggravation, “And what do you mean ‘I can’t leave’? I could if I wanted to.”

That got his attention. His head snapped back to you, his expression was fierce, “No. You. Can’t. You’re just a little girl. There’s a lot of horrible men out there that will take advantage of you the second they get the chance. You need to be here, with me, so I can protect you.” He didn’t yell, but his words were so venomous that it made you flinch regardless. 

“Excuse me? I’m not a little girl, I’m a grown woman and I can handle myself just fine! I really don’t care for this sexist bullshit from you,” you stood abruptly with your repaired jacket in hand. If he was going to be like this, then you were going to go for a walk until he stopped with the misogyny.

You didn’t make it more than five feet before a rope was wrapped around your chest and yanked you back onto the couch. Whipping your head to Paulie, you made no effort to hide how pissed you were, “What the hell are you doing?! Untie me!”

“I thought you could handle yourself?” Paulie wasn’t even paying that much attention to you, instead casually continuing to sip on his beer. He was an expert knot tier, getting out of his clutches without something to cut the ropes was no easy task and he damn well knew that.

“This isn’t funny, let me go!” Your attempts to free yourself are futile. The knots only tighten more as you struggle.

“I’m not letting you go. You are never leaving, and the sooner you accept that, the better,” he states coldly, making no move to ease up the ropes. You can only gawk at him. This wasn’t your brother, he would never speak to you like this. Did your threat to leave really bother him that much?

You’re going to have to proceed extremely carefully if you want to get out of this situation.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hi! Can I request a love triangle headcannons with Johan & Eli? Thank you in advance 💙

I'll be honest. My response is late but I have been thinking a lot about this dynamic ever since I've seen this. In a word: stressful.

Have... whatever the hell this is. And thanks for requesting anon!

Johan Seong/Reader/Eli Jang love triangle hc

This is not a joke. In this essay I will...

Yikes, you're really picking the two with the lowest tolerance for romantic bullshit?

Listen. Any sort of love triangle involving Johan Seong is the worst kind of headache you can ever imagine. See - one night of PAID FRIENDSHIP with Jace Park.

This guy does. not. share.

You really don't want to bring out those sort of mushy squishy feelings from Johan and not fully reciprocate it. What's worse though, is he will not confess so you have to be observant and perceptive yourself.

Give him a definitive yes or a no.

And Eli Jang is pretty guarded with romance after Heather. He's trying to be a good father to Yenna while also taking care of Hostel or whatever the fuck this dumbdumb is upto these days so he doesn't have time for romance.

Having feelings for you brings a lot of turmoil and stress that is very much unwelcomed. Thinks about you a lot. Playing happy family in his head once all this blows over.

Eli's a very busy guy and doesn't seek you out, though will call and message quite a bit. Just to talk to you and be friendly, even though this is completely not the type of thing he does.

How a love triangle could work

The only way I would see this working is if you are not aware of their feelings for you. If you do know and keep stringing them along, they will definitely peace out asap.

Them being aware of each other's feelings won't be a dealbreaker, but during the more... difficult moments, they might just think it is more effort than it's worth with everything else happening around them.

Surprisingly little crossover between these two. There was their fights quite a while back, but Eli and Johan are very much like two ships passing. Similar arcs with being Gun's successors and being trained by Tom Lee.

Basically, you're never going to really see them together but they WILL give you a migraine.

So. Some actual headcanons

These are opposites in many ways.

Eli will try to take up your time mentally, but Johan will almost always physically be around. Trailing after you, being with you.

If you get some pings on your phone, Johan's guard would immediately go up. Who is that?? Would never outright ask, the irritation simmering below the surface and jealousy exhibiting through other actions.

Similarly, take too long to respond back to Eli then he will start having all these doubts. Less about his actual feelings for you, but more on the timing and whether seeking you out is a good idea at all.

And because there is so little interaction between these two, unfortunately you are stuck in the middle.

AND they seem like the type that would always harbour a grudge against each other for their previous run ins (especially Johan), and see each other as competition. Vying for your affection is just another way for them to butt heads.

Eli through the phone: "tell Johan I can always give him a haircut, he looks like he needs one." Johan, being so quick-witted, will probably respond with "fuck off" and give you the cold shoulder for days.

Or Johan will hide your phone or distract you so much that you forget to respond back to Eli or completely miss his call.

They're both hot and cold in different ways. Johan will be mad at his feelings for you, stay away, and then find he can't. During his sweeter moments, he will be around you a lot, something of a lost puppy. But when he's at his most childish and selfish worst, he will vanish for ages leaving you to worry.

As mentioned, Eli will just be constantly fretting about the timing of this and feeling guilty about speaking to you when his focus should be elsewhere. So he might go quiet and pull away for a bit. Eventually, you'll contact him and then he'll think hearing your voice, reading your texts, occasionally seeing your face makes it worth it though.

In summary

Good fucking luck with these two.

The best advice is to be perceptive of their feelings for you then stay in one goddamn lane.

[aetherbladedstick]

Either 20 or 93 with 20/93 because kriedbanajad forever

HEHEHEEEE THIS WAS AMAZINNNGGG ok so i went with 20 - Press Conference (from Chess the Musical Original Concept Album (but must be the original (black album cover) if you intend to listen - the version from the "Chess in concert" is way less fun bc the tempo is vastly slower.)) [also for the record 93 was I See Fire but a cover] and i think i love this. there is an amazing line in this song that is SO igor and would go great in a DRAMATIC igor contract fic imo but as it is the vibes worked very well (imo) for kreidbanejad. i hope you like it! under the cut etc etc

There's something outrageous about having to do press conferences. They're kind of awful at all times, but they're particularly awful now - in the middle of losing and rumors and all kinds of shitty fucking things that people want to dig into Mika about. The press wants a story. Mika wants to live in relative fucking peace.

Rangers management is only happy to facilitate one of those, and it's not Mika's goddamn peace.

He's kind of sick of it all - the hounding questions, the incessant reports that they're going to take Chris from him, the nonstop queries about his slump. He wants to go home, though if pressed - hah. - he probably wouldn't be able to define what 'home' means.

He wants to live in a world where he skates with Chris every night, and nobody asks him if he thinks he's past his prime, or if he thinks he's being paid more than he's worth. He wants to go home - home being not fucking here, right now.

The media has always been full of assholes, but this particular year seems worse than all the rest. Maybe it's because his tolerance has gone down - after all, he got used to a world where even Rangers beat wasn't allowed in the locker room - but maybe it's because the world seems to be staring down his throat, scrutinizing his every move. He feels, sometimes, like he's in a fucking shark tank, even when he's not reading the news.

So it's peaceful when he gets to sit next to Chris, at least, for this ridiculous interrogation. He avoids calling on the men he knows don't like him - and who, for the record, he barely likes in return. He mostly avoids commenting on trades, and mostly avoids commenting on loss, and tries not to scream, "You weren't even this fucking critical of Quinner," mostly because he knows it's inappropriate.

They're going to twist anything he says anyway, so when he retreats to a room where only Sam and the Rangers are allowed, it feels like peace. He talks to Sam about how he tried baking cinnamon buns to bring in, but they didn't make it past Chris, and Sam laughs, and Sam leaves, because Sam, at least, has some decency.

Chris leaves early - lucky fucker, though Mika knows he's not - and Mika stays late, biking and lifting and trying not to scream. He lets the pounding 5/8 rhythm in his head keep him going, and he tries not to yell his frustrations to the world, and when he finally emerges from his music-fueled lifting session, he drives home.

Home smells like meatballs and pasta and apple pie, because Chris Kreider loves him too much. (Kreids would say there's no such thing. Mika would say that Kreids is probably the most attentive boyfriend on the planet, and he'd go viral on TikTok for half of the bullshit he does for Mika. Krieds would say it's not bullshit. They've had this discussion.)

Also, Kreids has apparently blocked all the news websites from their internet in the last 4 hours, and laughs at Mika when he discovers it. Mika is reminded of how Chris can justify throwing a five hundred dollar iPad to protect his peace, and feels that perhaps, this is only just slightly left of being utterly absurd behavior.

Chris Kreider, sometimes, is so fucking lucky Mika loves him. (Kreids would say he is always so fucking lucky that Mika Zibanejad chose him, out of everyone in the world, but then again, Kreids is a giant sap, so. There's that.)

[kindnessisweakness2]

5

"Oh my god! No you never!" Emily's laughter echoed around the empty house. " No Jax, I call bullshit!" She struggled to get the words out in between giggles. A red faced Jax was a sight for sure. He was never the type to get embarrassed, not easily anyway. But he could feel the warm glow on his cheeks as he told Emily the story of him falling victim to one of Opies pranks. "No seriously! I had to walk back from the lake Naked Em! Fucker stole my clothes while I was swimming with a girl. Wouldn't have been as bad but I had to walk through town in the middle of the day! My mom wasn't impressed." That spurred on another round of laughter from Emily as she imagined a naked Jax strolling down Main Street. They sat curled up on either end of Emily's plush sofa. Both comfy under the fluffy blankets she kept within arms reach. The TV played in the back ground, a movie neither of them had paid attention to. Instead they sat and actually talked. About any thing and everything, childhood memories, family and what they want from life. Jax's kutte hung on the hook by the front door, his phone in the pocket, giving Emily his full attention. And for the first time in a long time Jax felt disconnected from the stress and worry of the club. It felt weird to say but being there with Emily, it felt homely. Safe. "So you know all about my disastrous love life. It's only fair I learn about yours." Emily smiled at Jax over the top of her mug of tea as she took a sip. He shifted against the side of the sofa, always uncomfortable at the mention of Tara, but she was right it was only fair. "That was a mess, to say the least. First love, high school sweethearts. Felt like I had to be with her every minute of every day or id lose my mind. She just took over everything ya know? Couldn't see myself with anyone else. But her and club never mixed. She just couldn't understand my connection to it. My future has always been laid out for me, I'm gonna be at the head of that table, with alot of men's lives in my hands one day. My responsibility to keep them safe, to make the right decisions and get them back to their families. My mom always said it was flawed from day one. Said Tara wasn't strong enough. And looking back she was right, she pulled me away every opportunity she got. She had bigger dreams. Wanted to be a successful doctor with a cookie cutter house and a white picket fence. But I couldn't give her that. And so came the ultimatum. Her or club." Jax's eyes never left Emily as she listened to him talk. The way her face twisted he could see she wanted to say something. "Did you ever consider it? Leaving club for her I mean?" Jax smiled at her. "Of course I did. Packed a bag and everything. But then I quickly realised that I couldn't go. Look, ever since I was a kid all I wanted was a Harley and a Kutte. If I left with her I would be giving that up. Plus, what the fuck was I gonna do? I'm an okay mechanic who barely got his GED. How the fuck was I meant to provide for us, or even think of starting a family? I'm not Noah. I won't sit on my arse and let my girl bust hers to pay for everything." Emily nodded as Jax spoke. She couldn't help but think how nice it was. To sit here and just talk, be open. " Sorry for that last comment. But you must get what I mean? What kind of man would I be if I can't provide for my own." Emily smiled as she placed her now empty cup on the coffee table. "Don't worry. I know i was stupid when it came to Noah. I only have myself to blame for letting him do me dirty like that. I didn't want to see what was infront of my face. Like I said before, love blind." Emily quickly brushed the comment away, not wanting to reveal the truth. The truth was ugly and painful, and she didn't want to admit it to anyone, let alone Jax Teller. Noah had broken her, but she wouldnt admit it to anyone. She wouldnt give him the satisfaction of knowing he made her weak. Anyone asked she was fine, like always. Emily was a pro at masking how she really felt.

Jax sat looking at Emily. He could tell she wasnt as okay as she was trying to make out. Nobody could be in a relationship for that long, go through a betrayal like that and just be fine. Jax's phone rang, cutting through the comfortable silence. "You should probably get that." Emily smiled as she grabbed their cups and headed into the kitchen to give him some privacy. Jax's eyes widened in suprise. Most girls would go moody at their time being cut short, or atleast wanted to listen into the call. Being privy to club information is only an old lady perk. While he took the call from Chibs, Emily quickly tidied her kitchen packing a to go box of the meatball subs she had made them earlier, along with some victoria sponge cake. Making sure they were wrapped good she quickly popped them in a bag as Jax appeared in the kitchen. "Im sorry, i've got to go. Club shit." Emily smiled at him and handed him the bag of food. "Its okay. I get it dont worry. I packed you some left overs from earlier. If it turns out to be a late night atleast you'll have some decent food." For the second time that night Jax's eyes widened in suprise. Taking care of people clearly came natural to her. "I had a really nice time tonight Em." Jax smiled at her as she followed behind him to the front door. "Me too." She pulled him in to a hug before opening her door for him. "Look Jax, i dont know what club business your going to deal with. Its not my place to know. But just be careful." He smirked at her concern as he leaned against her door frame. "Always am Babe." Rolling her eyes, but unable to wipe the smile from her face at the blatant flirting from the blonde adonis, Emily watched as Jax rode away on his Harley.

Butterflies still flew around her stomach long after Jax had gone, but she did her best to ignore them. He flirted with everyone. From what she knew about this town he had slept his way through most of it after Tara and never settled down. She would just be another notch on his bedpost if she gave in to the temptation. Another woman silly enough to swoon over THE Jaxon Teller.

Or would she?

[just-some-guy-joust]

What’s Kazooie’s deal. Please tell me about them.

thank you so much for asking he's one of my favoritest guys in the world ok so

oldies who have been here since the lovecore swag showdown and perhaps those who were here for the deep sea fish tournament may remember the oc i put into the lovecore showdown, amedeo. for those of who don't, the basic rundown is amedeo is a gamer who is so obsessed with being a perfect friend and getting people to love him he gets manipulated and turned into a demon and ends up killing one of his friends before hitting his redemption arc.

for those of you who were here last time and paying attention, you may also remember the oc i put in the doomed by the narrative tournament, eden. she is a normalcore girl who ends up discovering her world is a video game and she is simply an npc. and now she's actively falling into a spiral of helplessness as she tries to help the player escape reality while never giving a fuck about her well being or whether or not she can be considered a real person.

both of these ocs are from the same story. other members of the cast include: the guy amedeo killed who now haunts their electronics and gets a sick robot body, a demon from the monster realm who is the first monster to set foot in the human world in a good while and ruins the world by refusing to do his job as player 1, an assassin who is also the lead/drummer of his band and got paid like 3 bucks to go kill the last guy and he was just fine with it, player 2 of the game who is in a death spiral and WILL delete as much of the game as they can if they don't finally escape, a tv head robot monster guy who is part of the aforementioned band and can't be normal about his crush on the assassin so he just starts mind controlling people in an attempt to kill him, amedeo again i cannot stress enough how much of a freak he is i love him. all of these characters end up involved in complicated plotlines revolving around the center of the story, the gamer club that most characters are part of. they turn into demons, get killed by demons, face the complex morality of being a person, face the complex morality of being a bunch of code in a video game, and more.

and then there's kazooie.

kazooie is a 24-27 year old transgender aroace man who runs the gamer club. he is a solid 5'3. his main hobby is gaming. he acts a little bit like a prick but he's always making sure the members of his club are having a great time. he named himself kazooie because he is autistic and his first fixation was on banjo kazooie. he lost his leg around his tweens and he does not feel very strongly about it, it's just a thing that happened to him.

the most exciting thing that ever happens to him in this entire fucked up convoluted story, is the assassin can't find his original target but kazooie was right there so he figured he'd just kill kazooie and call it good, which kazooie then got out of by talking fast enough about music for the assassin to start rambling about his band and want to be friends instead.

that's it.

kazooie's most important trait for the plot is that he runs the gamer club so he is involved with a lot of the plot but also everything just barely misses him by a couple inches and he mainly just has a normal day while his friends are out here experiencing the most bullshit buckwild experiences possible. and i Love Him. he's everything to me. he is so sweet and lovely and full of mischief and he's so silly and he loves his role and tries so hard to make the best of everything. he is just some guy and its what everyone needs so bad. in the middle of all the chaos, kazooie is always there scheduling club meetings so everyone has a moment to breathe and play some games together. he is so fucking normal.

also he's amedeo platonic partner/bestie/roommamte. ok here's some art of him

all above art by me

all above art by hershelchocolateart

[devourm0us]

rant/vent post feel free to ignore

there is something unbelievably cruel about financially abusive parents. or just like. neglectful parents.

the current situation isn't technically abusive, on its own, but its part of such a huge pattern of their bullshit... so i will start at the from-childhood issues

They refused to take me to the doctor for most of my chronic health issues. i only got diagnosed with severe arthritis, fibromyalgia, hypermobility, autism and adhd AFTER I turned 18 and took myself to all of those appointments that they discouraged me from going to. They then were UPSET that I was glad I had an answer at all. I thankfully had their insurance, but paid for the rest of the copays on my own.

They refused to let me get jobs during the school year, but forced me to purchase my own car at 15 and made me pay for my own gas to drive myself to/from school. My name is not on the title of the car. I have purchased 4-5 phones/ipod touches that they continuously took from me and destroyed. I was told to 'pick anywhere' for a birthday dinner once, picked a middle of the road sushi place, and was told 'that's too expensive' and then my dad bought a 5k kayak the next day, when we already owned one.

they lied and said that they'd help pay for me to attend SCAD if i paid for half through scholarships. i literally got MORE than half covered and they backed out of paying for it, so I had to go to a state school. Which is fine, but I COULD have gone to SCAD. The school I went to didn't have an illustration degree path, or anything similar. I had to choose between 'studio art drawing' or 'graphic design'. The skills I actually wanted to learn I didn't have a chance to, at least not through my coursework.

They left their senior, special needs cat with me and my fiance (Side note, tried to tell them we were getting married soon and they didn't even have the decency to seem excited for me) and wont help pay for anything other than her vet visits. which, sure, its some help, but her food and meds aren't included in that and are also expensive!

they own two houses in the US (each being worth about 1 million each) that they rent out to cover all of their current living expenses out of country, because they want to travel around and have fun. My dad is retired but does freelance law work and still makes crazy money from his previous position due to a severance package. my mom still works and makes like 5k a month. I JUST started making about 2400 a month and most of it will go to rent and bills.

we moved across the country for safety purposes (both trans folk, moved out of a very red state) and they didnt help at ALL. My fiance's dad, who makes the same as us, flew from out of state to drive us, paid for our hotels along the drive, and paid for some of our furniture when we moved in. Literally bought us a NICE bed. and my parents didn't lift a finger nor send us a penny.

And today, I talked to them on the phone. They have given me a 'for emergencies' card that i am 'allowed' to use. and I just talked to them on the phone because I am having car troubles and might need to use it so i can continue to work and it is a bigger amount (Like 3kish, which is a lot! so I wanted to check with them first). And they were so upset because they saw I used it to buy less than 50$ worth of food. FOOD. I got a LECTURE about putting away money for savings for things like that. WHAT MONEY. WHAT SAVINGS. if i have to use the card to buy food, what fucking money do you think I have????

and its so infuriating knowing that decent people like my fiance's family exist. because i know they could do more. i know they should WANT to do more. but I can't make them. And i don't want to be entitled, or come across that way, but its not like they have any other kids? or major monetary issues that they have to contend with? They just travel and have fun and go to parties that they love to text me about all the time while I struggle and they get mad at me whenever I mention it.

im just

ugh

im tired. and now owe them 3-4k apparently because they want me to pay them back... which is fine, i guess. i just wish they actually tried to even pretend they care.

[interdimensionalburnout]

((Quick OOC post, and hopefully the last one I need to say about this recent drama in my personal life for a while. In the aftermath of this stupid fucking adventure, we still have to find a place to live long-term and get unpacked.

((Once I'm good and used to working 7AM to 3:30PM again, and this emotional bullshit's smoothed over, I can get back to having fun hobbies and put some more time into RP again!

((SO! What's happening to Mick! Bullet-points edition, as little word-salad as possible (I'm a prosy kinda fruitcake):

In April we found out mom had been "robbing Peter to pay Paul," and in doing so had racked-up a 16,000 dollah electric bill.

That happened at the same time the landlady wanted to send an appraiser to the house to assess value and damage, because she and her siblings want to sell it so they can pay to put their mother in a retirement home (I have strong opinions on that).

They never communicated with us, never even offered to transfer all the money we'd already paid in rent towards, you know, buying it ourselves.

They actually were kinda dickheads about it, but it's also fine because that house is a money-pit and they deserve each-other.

Mom bullshits the electric company, the landlady doesn't immediately kick us out, but we keep slowly packing anyway.

Eviction Notice in June, extended until the 28th of August.

Things keep getting heated, blame keeps getting thrown around.

The tension keeps rising to a boil. Lots of things get left behind in the move, personal items, valuable items. My plants had to be packed into a blue-box, likely dead by now.

Dad's work puts us up in Air B&B's until we can get into a house he's trying to buy. Dad gets a loan and a realtor, and finds out that Florida is a "Spousal State," meaning he can't get a house without his wife signing for it. Their marriage is on the fritz and has been for fifteen years (at this state, this thing was fucked as soon as they said "I Do.") but he was willing to sign a contract for the next 30 years with her anyway.

Things keep getting heated and mom's grip on everyone keeps fraying further. Moving five animals and four humans (one of whom is borderline immobile and infirm) takes two trips to Gettysburg, and then two trips to Florida.

The tension rises again, mom calls dad's job to try and cow him. She'd tried that once before, fifteen years ago when they almost divorced before, and back then dad told her that, "if you ever do that again, I'm getting a divorce."

I get a job super fucking fast and already put in eightish hours

Dad and I have to take off yesterday in order for him to finally drive mom back north. She takes the smallest dog, leaving her other dog with me and dad and jay (sibling), because she can barely take care of the small baby let alone both babies.

Dad will be driving back down to florida soon,

And the rest of our lives will, I guess, start.

He also asked his realtor to help us find a rental that'll take two medium-sized dogs and two small cats.

TL;DR- Mom and dad have been fighting in a flawed marriage from the minute they put rings on, their kids have been caught in the middle and it derailed our adult lives, but the (failed) move provided the final straw that broke the camel's back, and now mom is gone and we have to get on with our lives,

and I'm too numb about it to really feel happy or sad.

[iwaoiness]

Cliché

"K-Kyaa!" She shrieks as she falls backwards into the void, onto those dangerous, sloping stairs. A tall, strong boy, runs swiftly to her aid, reaching out his arms to catch the delicate body, embracing her once she was in his protection.

"Wow, what a fright! Are you all right?" He asks and the girl turns her face at him, blushing as she sees herself reflected in those sea eyes that even sparkle as he observes how beautiful she is.

"Y-yes..." She murmurs, both losing themselves in each other's gaze, both opening the box of love.

Or that's what Oikawa would have paid to have happen to him.

Iwaizumi continues to sip his apple juice, his expressionless gaze fixed on the inerne, face-down body of his best friend at the foot of the stairs where he just fell (fortunately, he only jumped from the bottom two steps). He sighs as the seconds pass and Tooru still doesn't move even a finger, finally deciding to walk down the stairs towards him.

"Oi, are you dead?" He asks, gently kicking his body with the toe of his shoe.

" ... No, unfortunately." He mutters, slowly raising his head, thus showing his shadowed face, with a noticeable reddish hue marked on his forehead and nose due to the blow.

"I told you it wouldn't be a good idea." He reminds him, returning to sipping his drink.

"Shut up, Iwa-chan, I felt it!"

He sighs in frustration, sitting down on the cold floor, rubbing his forehead before pulling out the sheet of paper he has stashed in his pocket. He opens it and with a grimace, reads the third cliché of is Top10 romance clichés for finding your soulmate or die trying.

3. Falling from somewhere high and getting caught by the crush.

"Shit, why didn't Aoyama-senpai cross this area? She always passes through here at this time to go to his damn basket club! What made her change her damn way today?!" He speaks angrily, glaring at the list as if it were to blame for all his misfortunes.

"Why didn't you look before you fell?"

"I had to fall backwards and then turn around in mid-air to make it look like it was accidental! How do you want me to fall facing forward?! Anyone could tell for miles that I was faking it! And why didn't you warn me, Iwa-chan?!" He points his finger accusingly at him from the ground and Iwaizumi rolls his eyes before squatting down in front of him.

"Because this fucking plan was as likely to fail as all the other bullshit you've done." He explains calmly, arching an eyebrow as he recalls the others items of his stupid list that ended in utter failure, such as the fated collision when turning a corner (Tooru ended up hitting the most annoying sensei in Kitagawa Daiichi and was punished with extra cleaning services for two weeks) or the faked fainting in the middle of the courtyard so senpai would carry him (Tooru ended up being carried by a nervous and very worried Kindaichi).

"How rude, Iwa-chan, playing with the feelings of a poor sensitive boy who just wants to look for true love!" He squeals with fake crocodile tears peeking out of his eyes, too round and too pretty for his own good.

"Cut it out, Shitykawa, you don't suit that stupid shojo protagonist attitude at all."

"Hell, I thought it did." He's back to his grumpy pout in the blink of an eye and Iwaizumi snatches his list from him, rereading it over and seeing the sheer number of lines drawn over each scene, discarding them.

All but one.

He reads it and his eyes sparkled momentarily.

"Oikawa."

"If you're going to keep disrespecting me, don't bother, Iwa-chan."

"You've got one more to prove."

"What?" He arches an eyebrow in intrigue now, leaning in very close to his best friend to read his sheet. "Which one?"

"This one." Hajime drops the paper and takes Tooru's chin, lifting his face to him and then planting his lips on his in an apple juice-flavoured kiss that leaves Oikawa wide-eyed and breath catching in his throat.

It's a few seconds, but enough to completely altered Oikawa, who feels his cheeks burning and his heart stuttering inside his chest because Iwa-chan is kissing me, Iwa-chan is kissing me, IWA-CHAN IS FUCKING KISSING ME.

And when they break apart, Iwaizumi slowly opens his eyes, revealing that amazing mixture of gold and moss that now shines in a whole new light for Tooru. Hajime gets up from the ground and hides one of his hands in his trouser pocket as if nothing is wrong while his other hand continues to hold his juice.

"Hurry up, Sillykawa, break is going to be over soon."

Tooru continues on the ground, blinking owlishly and gaping in a rather comical expression as his best friend (his fucking best friend who just fucking kissed him on the fucking mouth) walks away back to the building.

"Wh-what... What was that?!" He finally bursts out, waking up from his shock. He hurries up from the ground to run over to his friend. "Hey, Iwa-chan, wait for me! W-why did you do that?! You were supposed to corner me against the wall before the kiss! Kabedon is the cliché of clichés! You stole my first kiss in such a crappy way, I won't forgive you! Are you listening to me, Iwa-chan?! Iwa-chan!"

He doesn't think it was weird. He doesn't think it was disgusting. He doesn't think that it was horrible. Oikawa just think that Hajime's lips aren't as dry as they look, that they're soft and full, and that there's something about them that makes his heart do that strange doki-doki.

He doesn't know if falling in love with your childhood best friend is a cliché, but he plans to find out, write it down on his stupid list, and stick to it.

...

i love dramatikawa sm

u can find me on my ao3 🍉

[hpysprkl]

gimme that Beautiful Hell and one shots (pretty please 👉🏻👈🏻)

Oooh fun, thanks for asking!

There's not a lot in my oneshots folder, but I fell in love with Heller about a minute and a half into Starfield, so I started writing a little Heller/Spacefarer thing. What can I say, I guess I love me a snarky boy with a rock collection 🤷���♀️

Heller's never been the best or the brightest. He's always known it. He's good at his job, sure. Smart enough to know how to get ahead in it. He makes sure the folks under him work hard enough and work safe enough. Lin trusts him, and they get along. He's made a name for himself in her crew. Which is not hard, really, when the only competition is a bunch of half-drunk dusties from the kind of bum-fuck systems the rest of the universe forgot. Most of them just want to clock in, meet their quotas - just barely - and get paid at the end of the week. Guy like Heller puts in a little extra effort, shows he knows what he's doing, and the boss notices. So when a new batch of recruits filed in one boring afternoon on some boring old rock in the middle of nowhere, he was expecting more of the same. And that's mostly what he got, until he got to her. She'd been staring all around the place while she waited in line for processing. Fidgeting, antsy. So when the line had moved along and he called her up to the desk, he'd figured she probably wasn't all there. They get all kinds in this line of work, and she wouldn't be the first zone-head. But then he called her over, and her gaze snapped to his face. The green eyes she fixed on him were piercing. Intelligent. Way too damn sharp for her own good. It caught him off guard, and he glanced down at her file to cover it up.

Your Beautiful Hell is a Deacon/Sole Survivor thing about soulmates who really, really don't want anything to do with all that fate bullshit. It's pretty early stages, but here's a snippet from the first chapter, their first 'meeting' through the telepathic link they share. It's not a happy scene.

TW: Deacon has PTSD-type flashbacks of his wife's death. There's mention of blood, a dead cat, and Barbara's corpse.

He closes his eyes and tries to ease the link open slowly. The overwhelming emotions from her side flood through, crashing over him. Deacon inhales deeply, letting the burn of the smoke seep through him, focuses on the feelings coming from her end of the link. Pain. Her knees where they hit hard ground, the burning on her arm, same place as his. She doesn't seem to be injured. Freezing cold. Fear, panic, confusion. A strange chemical smell. Frantic thoughts. Ohgodohgodohgod... Nate, Nate, fuck...Open, come on, open up for fuck's sake! Oh god, baby, what do I do? What do I do? You'd know, you always knew what to do. What would you do? Oh fuck, oh god, I have no idea. I — I promise, baby, I'll find him. I'll find Shaun. Oh god, I'm so sorry, baby. I can't stay here, I — The stream of consciousness comes to an abrupt halt, and he realizes she's just become aware of him. There's a moment of utter silence, and then another scream tears through the link, wordless grief and anguish and raw fury ripping through her and, by extension, him. It punches Deacon in the gut, forcing the air from his lungs, doubling him over. He sees flashes. Barbara, their little farm. Evening sunlight streaming in through the windows. Her blood pooling on the scrubbed wooden floor of their kitchen. The stray cat she'd taken in, its limp body sprawled next to hers. He struggles to draw a breath, choking on air like it's water. Her thoughts flood into his head, panicked and angry and drenched in loss and sorrow. No, I don't want this, I don't want another, I had mine already, goddamnit. I want him back, I want Nate back and our baby and — The rest dissolves into incoherent sobs and he feels her shove the link away hard. It makes him think of being pushed from the top of a skyscraper, the sensation of falling rapidly away from her and the simultaneous promise of impact as the ground rushes toward him. Deacon chokes down a ragged breath, tears streaming down his face, and collapses into the dirt. Barbara's blank, staring eyes are the last thing he sees before darkness takes him.