#jeff bozo

[xaviaaaaaaaaa]

"Hey you can't do 'x', it breaks things" "ohh interesting how exactly?" "idrk the PAs will yell at you though" "I just checked with the audit tool there don't appear to be any issues that arrive from 'x'" "How did you find that, also no" *asks the PAs* "idk ops gets upset about it" *asks operations manager* "idk senior ops says it messes stuff up" *asks the L6 and L7* "idrk someone said smth about 'accuracy' despite it making no difference to accuracy"

Why is everything at Jeff Bozos Amazing Warehouse Land like this; I wanna know all the minutia of why things are the way they are and how the process works >:c

I refuse to accept "idk someone told someone that someone told someone it's incorrect at some point" as a satisfactory answer let me be acoustic about logistics >:c

[mommy-mortis]

How much would you pay me to slide in this

[deep-down-in-drowsy-town]

Jeff Bezos’ birthday is January 12th. To celebrate this momentous occasion, I propose:

International Day of Fuck Amazon

(IDFA for short)

How can you celebrate? You can:

Buy from local businesses!

Enrich small communities by going to small concert venues, volunteering at your local library, etc!

Donate to help save the REAL Amazon (rainforest) from immanent destruction!

Spread the word!

We’ve got three months… could we make this a movement?

[wonderingwheretheleopardsare]

[fuwaprince]

I want poor people to pick apart US billionaires the same way that hungry birds are picking apart the galve goat to survive winter.

[savage-rhi]

The existence of billionaires is preventing our potential Mozarts from flourishing.

[mercuryandmeme]

1. Fuck Amazon 2. the Freddie Mercury commercial is cute

[jimblesmckimbles]

Hmmm

[inde-60]

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[thewingedwolf]

i highlighted a bunch of stuff in twoiaf and i was gonna post it but libby didn’t carry my bookmarks from desktop over to mobile bc all book reading apps hate me, actually

[xaviaaaaaaaaa]

back on night shift and I am already about to go to sleep on the floor; there are 7 hours left 😭

[colethewolf]

Jeff Davis is insufferable and he knows that he screwed himself. This deal with Paramount was supposed to be 3 Teen Wolf movies, the Wolf Pack show, and a new reboot/adaptation of a show called Aeon Flux that Jeff was going to produce. And now, all 3 are totally dead in the water.

As usual, I blame Jeff. I think that had he actually put time and effort into the movie, it wouldn't have been such a catastrophe. And even though Paramount is cheap as hell, they might have given Jeff a chance to continue this deal HAD the movie sparked rave reviews.

Instead, that movie didn't even have a finished script until the 2nd to LAST WEEK of filming. Jeff took absolutely no care in what he was creating. He just threw a bunch of shit into a blender and let it spill all over. And then tried to say that the movie was a "love letter to fans" in hopes that it would entice fans to not rail against how bad it was.

It was a BIG mistake to not have a finished script in hand before asking OG cast members to return, because Dylan O'Brien would have brought in major views and good reviews. But Dylan famously said in an interview that he passed on returning because it felt rushed & he preferred to just leave Stiles where he ended in the series.

WELP.

Jeff had the opportunity to write a wonderful send off to every character from the show & he decided to bullshit his way through his one shot at a movie. Had Jeff actually sat down and listened to what fans actually LIKED, he couldn't crafted a good movie that appealed to the OG audience that made the show popular in the first place.

BIG mistake in not letting Sterek go canon in the OG series, but instead waiting to do that whole "oh, Derek has complicated feelings about Stiles' JEEP" for giggles. Sterek would've done numbers on TV back when the only queer rep in teen shows was fucking BLAINE AND KURT. And hell, Jeff probably could've used that popularity to land himself EP of a spinoff with Dylan and Hoechlin as leads.

WELP.

What's funny is that Teen Wolf really was the only lucrative thing that Jeff has under his belt. And he knows that. Which is why he thought he was going to get some success doing ANOTHER show about teenage werewolves...only for that show to majorly suck ass and get cancelled after 1 season.

But now, Paramount owns the rights to Jeff's version of Teen Wolf, including all of the characters not from the OG Teen Wolf (the films), because those rights belong to Amazon. Which means Jeff effectively can't do anything with the legacy of the ONE show that actually made people look his way.

I can't help but feel like this is Jeff getting his toys taken away because he was busy throwing them around the room instead of playing nicely with them. So, now he doesn't get to play with those toys anymore. And he doesn't have any friends who want to play with him either, because he spent 10+ years alienating and bullying the fans who would've gladly followed him onward to watch new shows he created.

This mf Jeff Davis REALLY SAID AND I QUOTE "If I have to write he bared his fangs and snarled, one more time I'm going to blow my brains out."

OH REALLY? If you hate the fandom/franchise that much (which it definitely showed in your writing for the movie thank you very much) then why even pick it back up in the first place?

Just dumb as hell.

Basically paramount is broke and don't wanna pay and it was cheaper to pay Jeff to go away LMAO.

At this point imma continue the story in my fanfic writing which you can find on wattpad. I'll post that link later... as for now, listen to this bullshit.

I'm not surprised, but I'm sad for Derek Hale fr. I'm sad for this Fandom as well. We all deserve better than this shit.

[lovebugism]

omggg im craving a halloween themed , rockstar!eddie x shy!reader at a halloween party , matching costumes and everything & he sees a ton of guys hitting on her & is like ???? my baby?

here you go lovie! hope you like it! — eddie takes his girl to a bar on halloween and gets jealous when guys hit on you like you're not already his (shy!reader, rockstar!eddie, established relationship, 1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

The world didn’t know you before today.

You’ve been just Eddie Spaghetti’s girlfriend for so long — but now you’re Eddie Munson, up-and-coming rockstar and lead of Corroded Coffin’s girlfriend. The title carries a certain weight with it. You wear it with pride, but it weighs you down just the same. 

What’s weird about tonight, though, is you’re not sharing Eddie with the rest of the world like you thought you would. He’s having to share you, because everyone and their goddamn brother’s been all over you all night. 

Apparently, your coquettish rendition of The Bride of Frankenstein is making everyone else as crazy as it’s making him.

“God, go save your girlfriend, Munson,” Gareth jokes across the booth, laughing into his drink as he watches yet another guy stop you at the bar. “At least one of these assholes is gonna steal her from you.”

“She’s not property, dude. She can’t get stolen,” Jeff scolds from beside him, then flashes Eddie a sheepish glance. “But, yeah, the odds aren’t in your favor, Eds.”

Eddie pays no mind to his friends’ teasing — or the anger swirling like fire in the pit of his stomach. 

“Nah. She’s alright…” he mumbles into the rim of his glass. The whiskey burns his throat going down. It doesn’t match the flame rising in his chest at the sight of his precious girl talking to some douchebag dressed like Elvis Presley.

He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t think you weren’t a hundred percent fine. These bozos aren’t trying anything with you — hell, they can barely make conversation with you. You’re just entertaining it because you’re the sweetest thing on the earth.

It’s laughable more than anything.

He’s humored by it all. Not jealous. Definitely not jealous.

“Yeah, who’s the famous one here, again?” Jeff’s girlfriend jokes. She’d left to go to the bathroom with you but came back alone when you got stuck with dollar-store Elvis. She points to the rest of them with a long, manicured finger. “It’s you guys, right? Because I can’t really tell.”

“Fuck off…” Eddie grouses, forcing a grin while the rest of them laugh.

You return then, with a drink in hand and a frown on your face at the sight of your suddenly grumpy boyfriend. “You okay?” you wonder quietly, smoothing down your skirt when you slide into the booth.

The boy moves over to make room for you. “‘M fine,” he answers with a mumble that makes you assume otherwise. 

You reach a hand to his face, smoothing fluffy curls behind his ear. His cheek is warm against your palm. His faded seafoam Frankenstein paint job smears on your wrist.

“‘M sorry for taking so long. Some guy stopped me on the way over. I didn’t wanna be rude.”

Eddie shakes his head. Not a single part of him blamed you.

“It’s okay, babe. Not your fault.” 

He’s full-on beaming now. Just because you called that asshole “some guy.” It feels good to hear you say that, to know that that’s all he is to you — just some fuckin’ guy. You won’t remember him later, if you still do even now.

Honestly, you’ll be lucky to remember your own name at the end of tonight.

“He get that drink for you?” Eddie asks, nodding to the frosted glass in your fist.

You shrug. “Yeah. He bought it, but I watched the bartender make it, so it’s fine.”

He nods, proud and sparkling with it. “Good.”

“What is it?” Gareth wonders, squinting across the table.

“An Old-Fashioned.”

“You hate whiskey,” Eddie laughs, licking the alcohol from the plush of his bottom lip.

“Well, yeah, but he asked what I liked, and I didn’t know what to say, so I just told him your favorite drink,” you ramble, all mousy, as you drag the falling sleeve of your corset back up your shoulder. 

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment, still a bit overwhelmed by the attention.

Eddie’s grinning something fierce beside you. His chest swells with so much pride he thinks he might burst.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest fuckin’ thing?” he singsongs with a rosy grin, wrapping the ripped sleeve of his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. 

Then he kisses you. Like, really kisses you. 

It’s deep and intimate and sloppy. He opens your mouth with his and slithers his tongue inside. He tastes like bitter-sweet alcohol. You get drunk on him accordingly. 

The rest of the table gags.

Your lips click audibly when Eddie pulls away. His smile glistens with a mixture of your saliva, lips a deeper shade of pink and slightly swollen. You wipe your chin with the back of your mouth — some of Eddie’s face paint comes with it.

“Where’s he now?” the boy asks with a mischievous squint in his deep chocolate eyes.

You shrug, totally uncaring and just wanting to be kissed. “I dunno.”

“Still at the bar,” Gareth answers for you, snickering to himself. “Giving your girl the sex eyes.”

Your face screws up in disgust. “Sex eyes?” you repeat, nose scrunched.

The group laughs.

“Think you can get him to buy you a round? You know, for the table?” Eddie asks you. His fingers trace shapes on your bare shoulder. You have to fight back a shiver.

“You want me to go talk to him?” you gape, like you must’ve heard him wrong.

“I want you to go get us drinks, sweet thing. Work your magic, you know?”

He’s not in the most right headspace right now. You know this. He’s still high on the post-show adrenaline and mellow on the alcohol.  He’s jealous and in love with you and aflame with hatred for bootleg Elvis Presley. He gets rash when he’s raging, risky and unpredictable — a deadly concoction.

“Eds…” you hum quietly, brows scrunched like the idea pains you. “I don’t wanna make you mad…”

“You won’t make me mad, sweet thing,” Eddie assures, squeezing your shoulder. He presses a sanguine peck to your waiting mouth, then his voice gets all low. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll reward you after.”

He smacks one last kiss to your buzzing lips.

You blink at him until your senses return to you. You slide out from the booth and saunter back to Some Guy, who’s seemingly been waiting on your return this whole time. 

There’s a sudden sway to your hips now, but it’s not for him. 

It’s for Eddie.

The boy with the wild hair back at the booth, missing splotches of his face paint and wearing your lipstick knows this too.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Someone tries to steal them during a date (jeff, toby, eyeless jack)

I am. Cooking. Let me cook

Characters: jeff the killer, ticci toby, eyeless jack

Notes: reader is gn, reader is NOT a killer or monster theyre just a normal person, you guys are eating out (pretend you're where each of them is less known shhh, all 3 of these bozos are probably wanted), was originally going to habe bloody painter but I think I might save him for another day

CWs: none

JEFF THE KILLER

Oh he is not going to take it- the only reason he doesn't shut it down when someone... just WALKS up to your table and starts talking to him.. is because he wants to see if you'll stand up for yourself

Admittedly it goes on for a little longer than necessary because of this... but he does eventually get fed up enough with the person to snap at them to leave

If he weren't trying to lay low for your date he would 100% loudly talk about how pathetic that person was for basically begging him to ditch you in favor of them buuuuut alas

TICCI TOBY

Absolutely completely totally locked in on you even as the other person steps in and tries to convince him to ditch you. Absolutely shameless behavior from them

But it's only so much he can take before he looks them right in the eyes and bluntly tells them to fuck off. No hesitation no sugar coating... and he knows how to look intimidating.. he may not be too proud for this but he may say a few mean names

He doesn't really... want to stay and eat the food after this, you both end up taking your food with you and eating at a park nearby... it's much more peaceful, anyway

EYELESS JACK

What originally starts as them asking why he's not eating and what the mask was for slowly turns into them pestering and trying to coax him to come eat with them instead. Shameless, but one must admit it's bold

He is not having it, will ignore them the entire time no matter how much they keep talking... until they start trying to put you down

The growl that slips through his teeth when he warns them is enough to send them backing away... he never liked going out in public for dates and this only solidifies it...

[luvjunie]

hiii!!!

i was wondering if you can do some miles earth 1610 and earth 42 miles head canons if they were your older brother??

btw I love ur work <333

in which miles is your older brother and your favorite hobby is annoying the shit out of him

the brief mention of Jeff can be present or past, meaning this can be interpreted as 1610 or 42. don’t think it needs to be mentioned but y’all are siblings in this au so it’s obviously platonic lmfao

“Miles!” you sang delightfully on your way to his room, nearly skipping with the excitement of aggravating your older sibling. “Dear, sweet ‘ole brother of mine~”

“Nope, leave me alone.”

His voice, sounding just a tad deeper than it did last week, echoed from down the hall as you approached.

Miles was already up from his bed and on the way to close his door, but you somehow beat him there and leaned your shoulder against the frame. A proposition was eminent in your demeanor, and it made his top lip turn up in distaste.

“Hey Milesy. What’s up?”

He crossed his arms. “You stopped calling me that when you were six.”

Perhaps you were laying it on a little thick, but you’d already gotten this far, so you played on.

“And? Maybe… I’m feeling… nostalgic.” you shrugged.

“Spell nostalgic.” He challenged smugly.

“Anyways!” You abruptly changed the subject with a cheeky grin, the dissimilarity in your expressions comical. “Wanna do me a teeny-tiny favor?”

He couldn’t have shot you down faster.

“Absolutely not. I’d rather use the bathroom after Dad.”

You cringed at the thought. Was he that unwilling?

“Why not?”

“Are you crazy?” Miles gawked. “I got my door taken off the hinges the last time you asked for a ‘teeny-tiny favor’,” he quoted the words with his fingers. “Get somebody else to do it—“

“Wait!” You foiled his sudden attempt to shut his door by using your right foot to stop it— the foot in question, currently clad in a fuzzy, christmas themed sock.

It was the middle of April. But that wasn’t important.

Miles’ hazel eyes agitatedly narrowed at you between the small gap you’d managed to keep open. You both knew he could easily close his door if he really tried, but he didn’t want to hurt you. Though he was considering it.

“Pleaaaseee?” Hands clasped to accompany your begging, you whined at him in a tone that made him grimace.

“Y/n, what did I just say?” He grumbled. “No escuchas. (you don’t listen). It’s like you were born without ears or something.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask you for!”

He shook his head, “I don’t need to!Knowing you, it’s something stupid.”

Making his way to the kitchen, Miles immediately recognized the scent on the hoodie you were wearing when he brushed past your shoulder.

It was the one you’d bought him last year as a birthday gift. He hadn’t noticed it was missing until now, and after it being in your possession for God knows how long, the remnants of his cologne were now drowned out by some tooty-fruity ass body spritz that had his head hurting.

“And stop wearing my clothes, dude. You always give ‘em back smelling like Victoria Body Works and argon oil. That’s if you even give them back.”

Yeah, ‘Victoria Body Works’ was definitely not a thing.

Hot on his heels like a cold that medicine just couldn’t kick, your brows pinched together while you accompanied him through the empty apartment on what you assumed was a search for food.

“It’s Victoria’s secret, dumbass. This how I know you ain’t got hoes.”

“Who?” Miles quirked a brow as he sifted through the snack cupboard for a box of something to demolish in an hour.

“You-“

“—Asked. Bozo.”

“Wow,” you scoffed, a deadpan look on your face when you went to rest your elbows on the granite counter top. “You’re actually ancient.”

Miles was only two years your senior, but he acted like an old head, and that was probably the fault of your Uncle Aaron. He’d spent more time with that man than he did in his own room, which was shocking to say the least.

Miles’ eyes lit up when he discovered a hidden gem tucked into a back corner. “Yo, you gonna eat these honeybuns?”

“You gonna do me a favor?” you shot back, head tilted with the confidence of your incredible advantage over him.

Miles kissed his teeth. He had an immense sweet tooth, and you of all people knew he could never deny sugar.

“Dude, this same box has been sitting in here since last month. Which I know personally, because mom sent me out to get them. Meaning your tubby-ass forgot about these at least two weeks ago!”

Your jaw dropped in shock. “I am not tubby!”

“Tubby is a mindset. Now can I have ‘em or nah?”

You paused to think. “Depends.”

“On?” he encouraged impatiently as you toyed with the hemming of your sleeve.

“When asked where I’m at, around…Let’s say,” you chewed on your thoughts. “Six pm tomorrow— and I know you’ll be asked— say I’m at Isabella’s.”

Miles gave you a skeptical look. “And where are you really gonna be?”

He doubted he wanted to know the specifics on why he needed to lie for you, but he thought to ask anyway. You were his little sister after all, at least one person needed to know where you were.

“Nunya.” you mumbled.

“It’s a boy, isn’t it?” Miles squinted, fingers pinching either side of the honey bun’s plastic in preparation to open it.

Rolling your lips under your teeth, you awkwardly shifted your position so your back was leaned on the counter instead, and spoke cautiously as you ogled the lifting of a few floorboards.

“Maybe… But we’re just gonna-“

“Alright, alright. I got you. I’on need details.” Miles scooped the entire box of his well-earned treats into the cradle of his arm, then reached the other over your head to close all the cupboards he’d previously opened.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You stole the opportunity to trap Miles in a quick hug, tightly squeezing your arms around his torso on purpose because you knew how much it annoyed him. He never did grow out of being ticklish.

“Yeah, yeah. Move,” voice muffled as he was mid-bite, Miles separated you from him with two, rudely-stiff fingers to the middle of your forehead, then started back to the room he rarely left, somehow grabbing the entire jug of apple juice off the counter on his way.

He called out to you without turning back around.

“But if you not back by 9, I swear I’m snitching. I need my door, trust.”

Your face screwed into one of disgust at the implication. “Ewww bro, you’re gross!”

[brainrottr]

Can we get an eyeless jack design in your art?

:D

OF COURSE YOU CAN!!

I watched a lot of regular show while coming up with BrainRot’s story 😭 CLEARLY!

vvBen being a bozo + dragging Jeff n Smile with em💀

Georgia is eventually gonna get a reference sheet in this style, cuz the initial one I made for her was when I was getting used to drawing creepypastas after so long