#sometimes bread is ugly and that's okay

[psalacanthea]

well, despite the pain this month being pretty high on the 'bad' scale, and the edibles I made yesterday to combat it being stronger than I meant for them to be (don't grocery shop when you're hungry, and don't make edibles when you're in pain[or something]) my need for bread has somehow driven me out of my blanket and hot pad fortress.

So, I'm going to try and make some brioche with the whey from my paneer-making, and see if it makes a noticeable difference. I'm choosing brioche specifically because it's a semi-sweet bread with butter, and normally milk. OFC there's going to be a flavor difference if I use whey instead of water. But replacing milk with whey is more interesting to me. Hence, brioche.

You didn't need to know that, but as noted above, I am extremely high.

Anyways, thanks @dreadfutures this is your fault.

[staylovesmiley]

Give Me Your TMI~ Chapter 5

˚⊹ᰔ Pairing; Yang Jeongin x Fem!reader, Stray kids x Fem!reader

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Summary; In a world where Humans and Hybrids should be living as equals, Hybrids are still viewed as being closer to their animalistic side than their humanistic. Deep in the woods lives a band of misfit hybrids who reject these societal views and keep to themselves, choosing to live away from humans. What happens when the youngest of this rogue group meets a lost Human girl, befriending her after an incident where he must rely on her for help?

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Warnings; hybrid!au, female!reader, angst, mild violence, mentions of sexual harassment/assault and discrimination, she/her pronouns used for reader, this is very loosely based off the overall themes/tones of the manga and anime fruits basket~

In the coming days you would find flowers for you laying on your side of the bed waiting for you every afternoon.

Sometimes there were the same as the first, others they would be different, but the amount of flowers seemed to grow day by day until that morning you were woken up to the sight of a little bouquet tied with twine set on the bedside table. Jeongin was still sound asleep as you usually woke before him to help Minho with breakfast. Confusion laced itself through your half awake state and you reached over to shake the fox awake gently. “Innie- Jeongin wake up.” The hybrid startled, bolting up as if he were expecting there to be an emergency, looking over you frantically. “Wha- is everything okay, pretty?” He saw that you were in fact okay and calmed down, though confusion replaced his panic quickly. “Sorry- I didn’t mean to scare you I just…wanted to thank you for the flowers but really you didn’t have to go out so early to get them just so I’d wake up to see them.”

Now the hybrid was even more confused. He had noticed the vase on the dresser seemed to acquire new flowers each day but he had always assumed it had been you trying to brighten up the room and not that you were under the impression he had been the one bringing them to you. “Flowers? I didn’t get you flowers- I’ve been here since we went to bed last night…”

You frowned, even more confused than the hybrid. “But if you aren’t leaving them then who is…” the fox felt his jaw clench, an ugly little thing called jealousy once again possessing him as he cursed himself for not thinking of bringing you flowers first. Now if he were do so it would only be a mere imitation of the original and wouldn’t be as special, and he wanted to be special. “I’m sorry I woke you, innie…try and get some more rest before breakfast, okay?” He nodded, a pout still on his lips until you leaned down to place a gentle kiss to his temple and he melted instantly. Fighting the urge to pull you back against him and not allow you to leave he let himself fall back into a slumbering state as you got up and padded your way to the kitchen to meet the cat hybrid, bouquet carefully placed inside the vase with the rest of the flowers you had received over the course of the week.

The rest of the day the question lingered in your mind, even now as you stood side by side with Minho in the kitchen baking bread to go with the roast he had prepared for dinner.

The cat could tell something was weighing on you from the way your eyes seemed unfocused as you kneaded the dough in front of you. “What’s got you all lost in thought, pretty?” His words startled you, causing you to pause and look up at him. “How did you-“ Minho laughed, shaking his head. “If I didn’t snap you out of it you’d over knead that loaf and it would be a dense as a rock.” He teased, causing you to scoff playfully. “Yeah? Well maybe I like eating rocks.” You joked as you reached up to swipe a line of flour along his cheek. The cat smirked, shaking his head as he quickly landed a sharp slap upon your left asscheek. You gasped loudly before erupting into a fit of laughter.

Playing around like this had become commonplace for the two of you during prep for meal times. It made the whole process move a little slower but it always brightened your moods so much to the point that no one seemed to complain if dinner was late by a few minutes or if they had to sit around the kitchen island and watch the two of you goofing around while adding the finishing touches to their breakfasts. Food made with love and happiness tasted better anyways, they say.

The cat gave you a look, attempting to be stern but it didn’t fool you as he had been laughing along with you just seconds earlier. “Come on, out with it. What’s on your mind?” You sighed, calming down as you carefully broke the dough in front of you into three equal pieces and set two aside and you worked to roll the third into a long rope like shape. “I’ve been getting flowers every day for a week now…and I just assumed it was Innie leaving them for me. But this morning when I woke up there was a whole bouquet and so whoever it was would have had to get up either late last night or extremely early this morning to pick them for me…” Minho motioned for you to continue, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips but he wanted you to finish before saying his piece. “I woke Jeongin up to thank him for going through all the trouble but he swears it wasn’t him…he looked as confused as I was if not more- I just don’t know who else would be leaving them for me…”

The cat grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he watched you take the now three rope like forms of dough and lay them side by side before braiding them together carefully. “I know who it is.” Your actions paused, curiosity piqued and you resumed your braiding before asking him. “Well- who is it?” “It’s Chan-hyung.”

Your head turned to look the older in the eyes so fast that your neck felt sore, the expression on your face full of shock and disbelief causing the cat hybrid to chuckle. “So shocking? He’s been watching you closely since you arrived here. He wasn’t sure how to get your attention, he’s still a bit hesitant to approach you.” You swallowed hard, still unable to fully believe Minho’s words. “But- Chan doesn’t like me…I’m sure he’s only letting me stay so that Jeongin doesn’t run away-“ your words caused the cat to double over with his laughter, shaking his head. “Oh our clueless, pretty little human- if you don’t believe me why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Your eyes widened as you watched him regain his composure and grab the bread pan for both of your loaves. “That’s beautiful, by the way. You’ll have to show me how to do that.”

You beamed at the praise, temporarily forgetting the conversation about your flowers having come from the wolf hybrid you were sure couldn’t care less as to whether you were dead or alive. As you watched the cat hybrid place the bread into the oven you heard a low growl coming from behind you. “What the fuck, Jeongin-“ Minho had turned around after shutting the oven door and his expression was one of concern and shock causing you to turn around and see your beloved fox hybrid glaring daggers at the older hybrid with his canines bared to him. “Mine.” He growled out, voice much deeper than you had ever heard from the youngest member of the house and your blood ran cold at the terrifying sight of him. “I-Innie?” Your voice was timid and he nodded towards Minho. “He put his hands on my pretty.” Your expression softened slightly and looked at Minho with confusion before remembering your interaction from earlier. There must have been a mark from the flower he had on his hands when he had slapped you playfully. “Oh Innie, we were just playing arou-“ before you could finish your sentence the younger had pounced on you, knocking you off your balance and you both came crashing to the floor with a loud thud.

Everything moved so quickly you barely had time to process what was happening you felt the sharp sting of the fox’s canines digging into the spot between your neck and shoulder. You let out a little yelp in pain, eyes screwed shut as your hands balled into fists gripping onto Jeongin’s sweater. “Yang Jeongin get off of her!” Minho shouted to the younger hybrid but when he took a step forward it only served to make him bite down a tad bit harder and you let out a little whimper. “Fuck-“ you heard someone from behind you but you didn’t recognize the voice. Suddenly Jeongin’s teeth loosened their grip and he was pulled back from you and held in Seungmin’s strong embrace as he thrashed violently. Minho was there in a second, pressing a dish towel against the wound on your neck. “Get yourself in check, kit. Pretty isn’t built like a hybrid and you have to be gentle with her.” The cat scolded as Seungmin pulled the fox hybrid back towards his room.

You felt dazed, letting Minho scoop you up and carry you over to the couch where he proceeded to patch you up. “I’m sorry about him, pretty…he- honestly I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” You shook your head, smiling weakly as he pulled back from applying a bandage over the bite mark. “I’m okay, it startled me more than anything I think…I should go talk to him-“ Slowly you stood and Minho’s hand shot out to wrap around your wrist, a look full of concern painting his beautiful face. “I’ll be okay, Min. He won’t hurt me.” The cat scoffed, motioning from the kitchen floor that was still stained with drops of your blood to your bandaged neck. You shook your head, gently removing his hand and making your way to your shared room with the youngest hybrid.

You gave a little knock before entering, seeing Jeongin curled up on the bed as Seungmin stood above him very clearly scolding him as Minho had earlier. Upon your entrance the beagle hybrid silenced himself and gave you a look full of mixed emotions you couldn’t exactly read before brushing past you with a soft. “Be careful.” Whispered your way and then you were left alone with the youngest.

“Innie…” immediately he cut you off, sitting up and allowing you to see the wet tear tracks that stained his red cheeks. “Oh god you’re okay- pretty I’m s-so sorry-“ seeing his distressed state you were quickly at his side, petting his hair as you attempted to soothe him. “Yes, I’m okay. But Jeongin-“ he pouted up at you, clearly expecting another tongue lashing. Instead you kept your words soft but your tone still held a sternness to it that let him know you were being serious. “You do not own me…no one does. I care for you dearly but you absolutely cannot act out like this every time I interact with someone else in a way you don’t like.” His pout deepened into a frown and he nodded so fast you feared he may injure his neck. “I won’t- I promise…I’m so sorry-“ You gave him a soft smile, pushing the hair that fell over his forehead back to give him a gentle kiss to the flushed skin there. “You are forgiven, but this will not happen again or I will go and room with someone else.” His eyes widened and a whimper escaped him before his arms wrapped around your waist as he clung to you desperately. “Not again, I’ll be good I promise.” His words caused you to frown and you shook your head as you continued to comb your fingers through his hair and give light scratches to his ears. “You’re always good, my Mr. fox…” he relaxed at your words, body going lax against you and after a while you heard soft snores coming from him. Poor thing, you thought to yourself, he got himself so worked up he exhausted himself. You carefully tucked him into bed and before leaving the room you glanced over at the vase full of flowers and sighed. You may regret this later, but you needed to hear it from the source yourself.

You found yourself standing in front of the door at the back of the cabin, hand poised in front of the wood but you were frozen stiff with hesitance. Your nerves were standing on end and you took several deep breaths before giving a few soft knocks to the door. Briefly you contemplated running away but before you could decide the door opened to reveal a very shocked looking wolf hybrid. “Oh- it’s you.” He said, voice void of emotion as ever and it caused you to wince slightly. “Um- hi, Chan…I just- well, Minho said that you’ve uhh…” you swallowed the lump in your throat, hoping it would allow your words to come out smoother. “Minho told me it’s been you leaving me flowers every day….is that true?”

Chan blinked a bit, heat rising to his cheeks and for the first time you noticed how on edge he himself seemed. Shit- Jeongin had told you he was extremely distrusting of humans. What if this whole time he wasn’t being cold but was really scared like how Seungmin was. You cursed yourself for assuming just because he was a wolf that he was to be feared instead of being the fearful one. “Yeah….uh- it was me..” he rubbed at the back of his neck nervously, eyes unable to meet yours and you couldn’t help but stare a bit in disbelief. “If it makes you uncomfortable I can stop-“

Chan couldn’t finish his words, the wind having been knocked out of him as your arms wrapped tightly around his waist and your face buried in his chest. “Thank you, really- no one has ever given me flowers before.” This was it, what he had been craving for weeks since you had joined their family. Your smaller frame pressed against his and your scent enveloping him. He knew you as a human couldn’t smell what they did, but the sweetness of your natural scent caused him to feel lightheaded as a hand slowly came to rest on the small of your back and hold you closer to him. “You deserve flowers.” Was all he said, blushing furiously as he stared down at you in disbelief. You giggled, pulling back to look up at him with a bright smile that nearly knocked him off his feet. Never did he think you would look at him so brightly, so unafraid.

Just then he noticed the bandage on your neck and his face fell. “What happened to your neck..?” Your eyes widened, as if you had already forgotten what had happened in the kitchen earlier. “Oh- it’s okay. Jeongin just-“ before you could finish the wolf let out a growl and tried to push past you to where the fox was sleeping in your shared room. “Wait Chan- it’s okay I already talked to him about it everything is fine he’s resting now-“ you wrapped both hands around his bicep and attempted to pull him back towards you and thankfully your pleading seemed to work as the normally so ridged composure he held around you melted away. Chan turned to face you, moving your hair aside to get a closer look at the bandage. “You sure you’re okay..?” His voice was so soft, laced with concern and you couldn’t help but smile as you nodded to him. “I’m positive. Please, let’s just drop it?” With a sigh, Chan nodded and instead pulled you back into his embrace. “I’m supposed to keep all of you safe…I’m sorry he hurt you-“

With a light giggle, the one that always seemed to brighten Jeongin’s day, you rested your cheek against his chest and let your eyes fall closed as you breathed in the earthy smell the hybrid held from his patrols. “Really, I’m okay. But thank you for worrying about me…and taking care of me even when I didn’t notice.” The wolf hybrid’s chest swelled with pride and he allowed himself to enjoy your embrace as he gently rubbed your back in slow circles. After a moment you pulled away, the wolf having to fight off a whine at the loss of contact. “I’m gonna go check on dinner…see if Minho needs my help-“

Nodding, Chan watched as you retreated to the kitchen with a soft smile on his blushing face, looking away bashfully only as you turned to give him one last smile before disappearing to help the second oldest finish cooking. Finally, some softness reserved only for himself.

author’s note; I know this is a much shorter chapter than I have been putting out but I wanted to get these plot points out of the way for a special Christmas chapter~~ I wanted to give it its own special chapter and not lump it together with these events so just a smaller update (hopefully you all don’t mind since ch4 was posted last night anyways and you only have to wait a couple of days for ch6) thank you for your continued love and support~ (side note but thank you @chancloud8 for the Minho butt slap scene hehehe)

taglist; (pink users I wasn’t able to tag) @coastinglove @estella-novella @chancloud8 @skzswife @motheraiya55 @zofia515 @skybluelixie @breadedloafs @inaribu00 @silly250 @royal-shinigami @thatgirlangelb @bby-boo4u @emmxxsworld @vampkittenb82 @h0rnyp0t @alisonyus @im-sinking-in-mud @ihrtlix @mrs-hwangh @danixiulin @wolfo2027 @kiaralynn3838 @ateez-atiny380 @daceyena @bookswillfindyouaway @blackcatpandora @popcatx0 @corgilover20 @marshmelonie @sassy-snassy @straykidslover2024

[passivenovember]

alright so part of my goal this year is to get more comfortable writing smut, like. filthy, primal, passionate smut. And I've definitely been practicing, okay? but i'm not at a point yet where i can post a full ficlet.

so.

here are some half-baked, half-chubbed, half-stuffed horny little head canons (and please feel free to take any of them and expand as you see fit,,,,,if the vibe calls to you!)

--

steve wears glasses. obviously, once he hits middle school and realizes that only dweebs walk around visibly touting four eyes, he begs his mom for contact lenses. and luckily, with a bread winner like papa harrington, steve gets them. There's even the option to, like, fuck with his eye color. he's always had a thing for blue eyes, green eyes--but he decides not to push his luck. unfortunately, it's not a cure all and he has to wear his glasses sometimes. at the pool, before bed, when he's hungover, if he runs out of lenses and the doc has to wait for the fucking horse and buggy to come back from indianapolis with a full cart--shit like that. but he goes to lengths to make sure no one ever sees his dorky wire frame glasses. and no one does, not even nancy wheeler, until billy. i'm not sure how it happens. if they're already giving each other hand jobs under the bleachers, or if steve's got a cold or something one day and doesn't wear his contacts because his eyes are burning, so he ducks into gym wearing fucking glasses, and. when billy realizes steve harrington’s pink cheeked and hunched over and trying to get into his gym shorts as quick as possible, wearing lenses that make his bambi brown eyes even larger? like a dumb little slut who's never even kissed, let alone had someone's cock in his mouth? Shut the fuck up! billy corners him, and roughs him up a little, and cums all over those ugly wire frames. it happens once and then it becomes an all the time sort of thing. he man-handles steve constantly, when their situation gets comfortable and they start doing sleep overs and shit, and the frames bend, a little, over time. fucked out of shape from billy's constant heavy petting.

personally, i think billy is very resourceful when it comes to forging cock rings out of whatever makes the most sense in any given moment. and i think his little creations offer up varying results. i think one of them ends up with a rubber band up their ass at one point because it broke up there.

steve's a big fan of using cum as lube. huge fan of dry humping until one or both of them cum into rough cotton, and gathering what he can salvage. he's into slow, sloppy hand jobs and spitting milky white from his mouth when he sucks billy off so none of it goes to waste. maybe it stems from never wanting to swipe his platinum am-ex card (cheap as shit, just like his dad), maybe he just likes fucking billy's cum into himself. maybe that gets him harder than it ever has any right to! who's to say!

steve harrington, known pillow humper, quite frankly.

imagine them sharing a fleshlight. just....think about it for two seconds!

the one time they get down and dirty in billy's bedroom, he doesn't change the sheets for weeks and months after and when he finally does because he has to because even if it's fucking hot to sleep on top of steve's dried cum every night, billy has his limits. he wasn't raised in a barn. but, when he finally peels them away, he never uses those sheets again. they live under his bed, squished between the frame and the wall, and he cuddles with them sometimes as if they're some sort of sad, demented teddy bear.

steve teaching himself to suck dick on any and everything and billy being so feral over it.

are these anything?? (sorry)

[sturniololuvz]

please do a fic of chris being a boy dad, and like showing the phases of the kid growing up, like newborn, toddler, kid till like puberty where he notices some chsnges and talks with his son abt it

“The Phases of Him”

Newborn (Age 0):

Chris held him like he was made of glass — a tiny, red-faced bundle swaddled so tightly he looked like a loaf of bread. The first time his son gripped his pinky finger, Chris cried. Like, full-on, nose-running, ugly tears.

“He’s just holding your finger,” Matt teased from the hospital couch.

“He’s holding my whole heart,” Chris shot back, eyes still watery.

He barely slept that week. Every breath, every sneeze, every whimper — Chris was there. Hands ready. Heart on the edge of his sleeve.

⸻

Toddler (Age 3):

Chris’s son had two modes: absolute chaos and deep, philosophical tantrums.

“No, you don’t understand, Daddy,” he cried once, after being told no more cookies. “I need them. For my soul.”

Chris tried not to laugh. “You need a nap.”

“I need respect!”

It was exhausting, sure, but God, Chris loved it. Sticky fingers tugging on his hoodie, bedtime stories read with sleepy eyes, plastic dinosaurs left in his shoes.

He even kept the pink glitter tiara his son made him wear during tea parties. (He’d die before admitting how natural it felt.)

⸻

Kid (Age 8):

Chris’s boy started asking questions.

“Why are you and Uncle Nick scared of clowns?”

“What’s taxes?”

Chris tried to answer every one with honesty — or at least a YouTube video.

Their nights were full of Lego builds and Mario Kart tournaments. His son called him “Dude” more often than “Dad” now, which weirdly made Chris proud.

They shared inside jokes. Made handshake rituals. Talked about everything from farts to aliens.

Chris started to feel like, yeah, I’m doing this right.

⸻

Puberty (Age 12):

And then, it started.

The voice cracks.

The deodorant purchases.

The slamming of doors for no apparent reason.

Chris didn’t panic — not really. But he did pause when his son came out of the bathroom one night, cheeks flushed, and couldn’t look him in the eye.

Chris gave him a nod. Then walked into his room.

“Hey,” he said gently, closing the door behind him.

His son was half-buried under the covers, earbuds in. Chris tapped the bed.

“You okay?”

A shrug.

“Hey.” Chris waited until his son looked at him. “You feelin’ weird?”

Another shrug. But softer this time.

Chris nodded slowly. “It’s okay. Your body’s gonna do all kinds of new stuff. It’s confusing. And kinda gross. And it doesn’t always feel good.”

“I think I’m broken,” his son whispered.

Chris’s heart cracked open.

“You’re not,” he said gently. “You’re just growing up. And that’s hard sometimes. But you can always talk to me about it, okay?”

“Even the… gross stuff?”

Chris grinned. “Especially the gross stuff. I’ve been there.”

After a long pause, his son looked up at him. “Did you cry when you got your first pimple?”

“I screamed.” Chris said, dead serious.

And his son laughed — really laughed — and Chris felt the shift. That invisible, sacred moment where his kid realized: *Dad gets it. Dad gets me.

⸻

Chris sat in the kitchen that night, staring at an old photo of his son as a baby — cheeks full, arms flailing, joy pouring out of him.

It felt like it had been two weeks ago.

Now he was raising a young man. Not just a boy with scraped knees and snack requests — but someone with thoughts and questions and dreams.

And still… his little boy, always.

Chris smiled to himself.

“God help me when he turns fifteen.”

⸻

[irisintheafterglow]

(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)🌷✨🩷🍪 Greetings Author-nim

Can I please request (⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠メ⁠)

(OPLA Zoro x You) Where Reader is an Assassin or Ninja and is a Pirate hunter, When Zoro used to be one too, they would always compete who gets the target first. Sometimes Zoro wins, sometimes reader.

So, imagine Reader's reaction when they saw Zoro with the crew.

And also, Luffy, somehow by some miracle with his own style of talk-no-jutsu managed to convince reader to join them(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥. Hope u have a great day and it's okay if u don't want to do this. I'll understand.

baby, let the games begin

wc: 2k (surprise, shawty)

cw/tags: gn!reader, swearing, canon-typical violence, mentions of drinking and alcohol, pining pining pining pining PINING

note: hi love, thank you so much for your request!! i hope you like this because i certainly love writing for this stupid himbo man

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

Honor be damned, you really wanted to kill him. 

“Dirty play, demon,” you huff irritatedly, scowling at the asshole who skewered your target before you could. In a single clean slash, the head is relieved of its body and unceremoniously kicked into a bag. “We both know that one was mine.”

“Better luck next time.” Asshole. Stupid, selfish, infuriatingly attractive asshole. A million different ways you could end his life flashed through your mind and, with his back turned to you, became more of a possibility the longer you sat in your disappointment. The dock creaks beneath his receding footsteps and you spit a curse under your breath. The head now bouncing around in the pirate hunter’s hand would have had you living comfortably for months, not to mention buying some shelter for the stray dogs wandering your home island. Monsoon season was coming and you didn’t have nearly enough space to keep all of them dry. Finding food that wasn’t old bread and horse balls was hard in itself and shelter was just another task added to the to-do list. “You’re not gonna try and take it from me?” 

“Why would I? You killed him; you get the bounty,” you reply scornfully, praying that whoever came up with the idea of hunter’s honor is torn to shreds by an octopus. “Guess it is your turn,” you concede reluctantly and take note of the blood dripping from the dirty fabric sack as he reapproaches. You’d have to clean your shoes when you were done. “I did take that guy from you in Flamingo Village, last week.” 

“The one with the big, ugly hat,” he confirms and you don’t budge when he stands right in front of you. He had pretty eyes, you’d give him that. Too bad you wanted to slam your fist into his nose. “I was mad about that one.”

“Well, you got this one. Aren’t you gonna cash ‘em in?”

“I will. I’m just curious,” he says and his expression is unreadable. It bordered on amusement and suspicion with a little bit of awe. “You could have killed me a million times since I killed the target.” Already thought that, buddy. “Why didn’t you?”

“Like I said, hunter’s honor–”

“No,” he shakes his head decidedly and you narrow your eyes. “You’ve been following this guy for four days, watching other hunters fail to bring him in. My question is, why do you need this bounty so badly, and why aren’t you willing to kill me over it?”

“Technically, that’s two questions,” you deadpan and your heart does an unwanted little stutter when he scoffs, the tiniest smile pulling at his mouth. “If you really wanna know why I need it, it’s ‘cause I need to take care of some friends back home.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but you also didn’t need the most feared hunter in the seas knowing that you needed the money to buy squeaky toys and dog beds. 

“Those friends aren’t worth killing for?”

“It’s sounding like you want me to kill you,” you fire back incredulously. “Do I need to worry about you, Zoro?” 

“Look, all I’m saying is, all other hunters would be leaping at my throat as soon as I take their kill. I just don’t understand why you won’t, especially if it’s worth four days of stalking.” 

“Maybe I like playing this little game,” you admit. It’s no secret to you that your job becomes incredibly boring at times. All the other hunters you come across take their jobs too seriously and believe that they’re purging the seas of evil. You, however, knew that the real evil was pacing around ivory towers and putting up the wanted posters. When you first met Zoro, it seemed like he didn’t take his job seriously at all. He killed like it was breathing and remained unamused at the melodramatic theatrics of flashier hunters. You ran into each other often because, besides being the only ones who survive their hunts, you were the top-earning hunters of your generation and ended up following the same pace every time. “I take a bounty; you take a bounty. I try to beat the pirate hunter at his own game; he throws a fit when I’m faster than him.”

“But, today I was faster than you,” he corrects and you stick your tongue out at him in defiance. “Who’s throwing a fit now?”

“Get out of my sight, demon,” you frown but you can’t hold it for long. It becomes a tired, melancholy smile and you start to make your way back to the town to book passage home. “Hope you enjoy all that Berry.” 

“Let me buy you a drink with it before you go,” he calls after you and you freeze where you stand. “Consolation for kicking your ass this time around.” You shoot him a scathing look over your shoulder and take the bait. 

“I did all the dirty work for you, asshole, so it better be three drinks at the least.” He chuckles softly under his breath and you roll your eyes, letting him catch up to you before heading to the nearest bar together. “I hate you so much.” 

“No, you don’t.”

As time passed and you ran into him more during your hunts, that hatred turned into something different, an annoying feeling of excitement every time you heard a sword unsheathed or spotted someone with green hair. You found yourself checking your watch when you were ahead of him, counting down the hours until he caught up. You knew the sound of his footsteps and the rhythm of his breathing and memorized how the sun hit his eyes down to the iris. Sometimes, you’d work with him directly and split the bounty evenly once it was completed. During conversations to kill time, though he never admitted it, he liked being around you as often as he was. Eventually, you told him about your furry friends back on the island and started marking the places you’d been with a hasty drawing of a dog. It became part of your routine and the time that it took for him to catch up to you decreased exponentially as a result. You’re easier to follow, is what he said. On a particular mission where you were unusually behind, you were delighted to find his gross attempt at mimicking the mark scratched into the wooden bar counter. 

You lose touch with him after a year or so of working together and you don’t expect it to hurt as much as it did. Word floated around that he was captured by Marines and posted up in Shells Town, but the same mouths reported that he escaped with pirates the following day. None of it sounded like him and it reminded you that you really didn’t know him at all. Still, you marked that silly dog into every barstool and backdoor you came across as you fell back into the same boring routines. 

Taking a rest day at a floating restaurant called Baratie, you think you’ve found the perfect spot to scratch into the counter when you realize that someone has already done it for you. It was horrendous and nearly incomprehensible, but you choke back a sob when you run your thumb over the mangled wood. There was only one person who could have drawn the little dog so badly.

And it’s like your body senses him before your mind does. 

In an instant, you’re hyper fixated on the familiar rhythm of his boots and the soft noise as his swords clank together with every step. There are four others with him, but you know his approach like the back of your hand. A boy in a straw hat whom you recognize from wanted posters rushes the bar, loudly requesting a glass of milk for himself and the finest rum for his swordsman companion. When he slides into the seat next to you, you can barely look at him, rendered defenseless from the conflict of emotions stirring in your mind. Thousands of questions were screaming to be answered but you couldn’t even open your mouth. The alcohol in your half-finished glass is all you can see. 

“You found me,” he murmurs, flagging down the bartender and asking for a bottle of whatever you’re drinking.

“I wasn’t looking for you,” you reply just as quietly, watching his hand carefully replenish your glass before filling his own and downing it in a few swallows. You stop him from pouring another with a light hand on his shoulder and he wordlessly sets down the bottle, making you smile softly. “You still drink too much.”

“I don’t have you to slow me down,” he replies without hesitation, glancing at your fingertip as it traces the mark he made on the wood. “I’ve been putting those everywhere since I joined up with Luffy. Figured we’d run into each other at some point.” 

“Luffy,” you echo. “That’s your pirate captain?” The irony of your situation escapes neither of you. If you were smart, you’d have every single one of them dead and bouncing around a burlap sack, just like the pirate all those years ago. But, just the same as the first time, you were stopped by a profound desire to be closer to Zoro. 

“He’s not like other pirates. Not like the ones you and I know.” 

“I’ll let the Marines know next time I bring in a head, then,” you laugh humorlessly, feeling the rum burn down your throat when you take another sip. You feel his eyes watching you carefully but you don’t look back at him. “I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to hear that.”

“They don’t have to hear anything,” he says in a low tone, one that sends goosebumps up your spine and has your heart beating a little faster. “They don’t have to hear anything from you ever again.”

“You’re not saying…”

“That's exactly what I’m saying.” 

“You want me to just switch sides like it’s nothing?”

“This job has been nothing to you from the beginning, nothing but a way to feed strays that, thanks to you, have loving homes,” he reminds you and you exhale deeply. He was right, but part of you wanted vengeance for all the times you secretly wished he was still with you. “So, come with me.”

“Zoro, I–”

“You know, I’ve missed you so much I can’t sleep,” he shakes his head and sighs in defeat. “Every time we dock at a new city, I’m hoping you’re on a hunt because, as much as I care for them, they’ll never know me the way you do.” He looks back at his crew with something like sad fondness in his eyes. They wouldn’t ever know him the way you did, as a bounty hunter with no real place to call home and no real people to call friends. “It gets lonely when you’re not forced to be alone anymore.”

“And it’s lonely when you are forced to,” you add. “It’s lonely either way–”

“But I’d rather be that way with you,” he concludes. “It’s not bad when I’m with you.” You pause, collecting your thoughts and calculating how much money you’d have if you suddenly abandoned your current line of work. It was risky, sure, but something about risking it on Zoro made it feel a little less dangerous. “Your silence tells me I convinced you.”

“I’m not the one you need to convince; it’s your captain you should be talking to.”

“Trust me, he’s the least of our problems.” As if to drive home his point, a choir of cheers rises up from behind you as a loud belch sounds through the harbor. 

“‘Our’ as in the crew, or ‘our’ as in you and I?”

“It’s always been you and I, hasn’t it?”

“It always will be,” you promise, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. He’s warm and safe and everything you were needing. “But, I need to teach you how to draw a better dog.” He hums in agreement, downing another glass contentedly. 

“Yeah, you need to teach me how to draw a better dog.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[gyll-yee-haw]

Can you do a headcannon of Jake and some of his character during post-sex pillow talk?

Yes baby, you're so right for this <3

Characters: Jake, Loki, Donnie, Louis and Adam

Warnings: suggestive, no actual smut. Pretty fluffy, your girl can be soft sometimes

Jake Gyllenhaal

Oh my fave soft dom Jacob 🥺

Billions of praises

"You did so well for me, princess" as he handled your body that still shaked a little

If he was particularly rough that night, he would ask if you were okay, then if you were sure, over and over and over with a very worried look and a very soft voice

Give you so many little kisses and very long massages as the two of you talked about the most random things

From bread to quantum physics

You just enjoyed spending time together, you were best friends who could talk about anything, and turn absolutely everything into a joke, cause he loves making you laugh and you love his peculiar humor

I need him so bad, it's not even funny

David Loki

He isn't a man of many words

Would prefer to show affection by simply keeping you in his embrace, close to his chest as his heartbeat returned to normal

Kissing your forehead while you drifted into sleep

Might whisper a little "thank you" if that was the 'calm his nerves' kind of sex, maybe a little 'I would have gone mad already if it wasn't for you'

If it was romantic, passionate sex, that's one of the only times you'd hear 'I love you', and it would make your heart race every single time

Donnie Darko

I've said it before, I'll say it again, he's obsessed with you

After-sex Donnie will take a while to come back to this ugly planet, he stays stuck on the bliss where only him and his goddess exist

He's all smiley and sweet :((((

It's useless to try and talk to him about anything outside that room

"You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen..." he would drunkly say, everytime

"No, Donnie, I asked if you wanted to order some pizza..."

Louis Bloom

Opposite to David, absolutely never shuts up

His mind is always racing, so he's likely to start rambling about something that has nothing to do with what you just did, I mean, it's over, let's focus on tomorrow's plans

If you were too tired, you'd follow his lead, you'll just let him talk

If you were feeling brave, you'd iniciate round 2, to get him quiet

Adam Bell

He's a softie 🥺🥺🥺

Wants to hear about your day, only because he enjoys your voice so much

You'd insist to hear about his day too, but he isn't a fan of talking about himself

So you started a mission... you'd encourage him to talk, and ask questions during his stories, no matter how boring they were, and he would get all excited talking about something completely normal that happened during class

And when he caught you staring, he'd be like "oh I must be boring you to death, I'm sorry", which you would deny a million times

I mean, he's used to stand and talk in front of a bunch of uninterested people who clearly aren't listening, it's almost automatic

His cute surprised face seeing you interested in what he was saying?

It all gets him looking foward to coming home to you

Where you would make sweet sweet love, and when it ended, he would get this good feeling cause the most intimate part was yet to come

Then you would just lay there talking for hours...

[kayentokk]

Easy Peasy Sukuna Squeezey(Part 2);Fuck It.

Pairing;Sukuna x Fem! Reader

Summary;Sukuna has found a solution? Kind of, one hint though. It’s not ice cream.

Contains;fluff, little argument, not an adult way to deal with problems, cussing, chef Sukuna, totally not feelings(that Sukuna doesn’t have for you), life is ass sometimes, soft Sukuna 

Wc;1,719

A/N;Okay, so I definitely went heavy on the chef Sukuna.

Prev. Series M.list

“I hope you’re hungry for pasta ‘cause that’s what m’makin,” he lowly grumbled walking into the kitchen.

“Yeah pasta is fine.”

You’ve watched Sukuna cook a multitude of times, and each time he looks so comfortable. So at peace, well when he’s not cussing out the stove for taking a long time to heat up. 

“Y’want garlic bread?”

“With cheese on top?”

“Are ya askin me?” He teases.

“Sukuna-,” you started to retort with an irritated tone. 

“Ask nicely, y/n.”

You just mumbled out a low “can you put cheese on top?”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Oh my Go-“

“It’s just one word, sweetness.”

You rolled your eyes at the saccharine nickname coming from his lips, “Sukuna you’re seriously on my last-“

“Hmmm?” He feigned innocence while cutting you off again.

You let out a defeated sigh mixed with agitation and said, “please?”

“Seeee? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Oh yeah, so glad it amused you,” you replied rolling your eyes once again.

“It did.”

Sukuna turned the stove up, the small notches making little tick noises each time the setting changed, and began to boil the pasta. 

He was always meticulous about the way he cut up the vegetables and such, one time you even asked him why it mattered and he grumbled something about how eating ugly vegetables is gross. You weren’t exactly sure how one little crooked square would make it ugly since it’s all going in the same pot, but to each their own right?

“You should be a chef,” you blurted out.

It wasn’t a bad thought, just an inside one. But who wouldn’t want to see a chef Sukuna? The lean but buff figure putting garnishes on top of things and his triceps and forearms flexing each time he stirred a pot or chopped a veggie. His forehead collecting little beads of sweat from the steam of the pot he just opened to taste the contents. His fingers cupped underneath the spoon, and his cool breath blowing on the spoon causing his lips to purse-

“Y/n,” he says snapping his fingers to pull you back to planet Earth.

You immediately refocused your attention on the present moment and nervously asked, “yes?”

“Are y’gonna taste this sauce? Or just keep staring off into space?” 

Then you noticed the wooden spoon in front of you and hastily tasted the sauce. 

“It’s good!”

“Yeah,” he replied, “but as awesome as this tastes I was telling you, before you went all spacey on me, that a chef isn’t exactly the job f’me.”

“What,” you said with a pout, “why not? You’re so good at it. I could even be like your sous chef or something.”

“It’s just not, I dunno, it doesn’t feel like my thing.” 

“But-”

“I’ll cook for you all y’want mkay? So don’t complain, cause you basically get a lifetime of free meals. I don’t think Yuuji even gets as many meals as you do.”

“That’s because I’m always at your apartment, and you’re always cooking.”

He just gave a gruff hum in agreement with your statement. The truth is, Sukuna had never thought about what he wanted to be after college. Being a chef wouldn’t be all that bad but he’d have to cook for everyone, not just you. Which, for some reason, didn’t sit right with him. 

When the food was finished he plated it and set it in front of you with a glass of water. You gave him a low thanks and began eating. You hadn’t noticed before, but you must have been starving because you were scarfing his food down. 

“Let me know if you want seconds with that,” Sukuna said while playfully grinning. 

“Oh shut up,” you said chuckling. 

There it was, your laugh, your bright smile. He loved seeing that. To Sukuna, sadness didn’t fit you. It just wasn’t an emotion he would associate with you. To Sukuna, You’ve never truly been sad, well besides the little petty things you’d get upset over. To Sukuna, those were way different because they were fixable.

That’s why thinking about the current situation made Sukuna’s jaw clench, and even worse it made him scared because what if he couldn’t fix it this time?

Once you both finished eating you had decided you wanted to talk about it. You just needed to get some things of your chest. 

He was washing dishes when you started to speak, “I just don’t understand.”

At first he was about to ask, “understand what?”He had forgotten about the problem, and for a moment so did you. But he knew that you’d open up eventually so he just listened. 

You went through a rundown of exactly what happened. You told him about the tip-off from the mutual friend, the obscene sounds you heard, the trail of undergarments leading to the bedroom, and your little exit. Sukuna was pissed to say the least. He just didn’t understand how some ugly narcissistic asshole could throw away everything. What an idiot. 

Sukuna focused in on what you were saying again, “I mean, I think I was a good girlfriend…I thought I was anyways. People say it happens sometimes though….I just never really imagined it happening to me.” 

You continued on, I mean I probably should have seen it coming.” You scoffed before continuing, I mean just look at me-“

“Stop that.”

Sukuna hated that. He hated it, that you could feel so doubtful towards yourself. Like you weren’t good enough for that sack of shit. 

“You could find someone else, t’treat you nice and stuff.”

You laughed at his response, “That is only gonna happen in my dreams ‘Kuna.”

He just shrugged as if saying, “you never know.”

“I thought that when I went over there I’d be fine, I briefed myself and I knew what was going on. I was prepared for it. But now I’m just confused, and-“

“Angry?”

“Y’know, not everyone feels anger as an immediate emotion when something wrong happens to them ‘Kuna?” 

“Really? So it’s just me?” He said sarcastically, letting out a short chortle.

You rolled your eyes and continued, “I am angry ‘Kuna. So angry, okay? But I- I can’t just punch someone like you do-“ 

“I mean you could,” he mumbled under his breath  barely loud enough for you to hear. 

You just ignored him and continued with a sigh, “I also can’t just cry and ball my eyes out over it. I won’t let myself, it’s already pitiful enough. Crying about it won’t help.” 

He didn’t have a witty, snappy response to that one. “S’not pitiful,” he said gruffly while drying his hands off on a towel and moving closer to your spot in the kitchen.

“Have you ever been broken up with Sukuna? Actually scratch that, because you ‘don’t do serious relationships.’ You ever been rejected?”

“Y/n, that’s not the same-”

“It is! It’s proving my point. You can get any girl you want, Sukuna! You’ve never experienced anything like that, I don’t even think you could comprehend it at this point,” you said laughing dryly. 

“Y/n, you know that’s not the same, we’re not the same.” He said, beginning to think you were being a bit unreasonable, “and m’not sure what this has to do with me, but all I’m saying is that there’s nothing wrong with feeling angry or sad about the situation y/n. It’s perfectly normal to want to punch a guy who cheated on you,” he said escalating, “You should feel betrayed! Hell you should-“

“Don’t tell me how to feel,” you mumbled.

He paused, calming himself before speaking again. “I get it, okay y/n? You’re hurt, and I-,” he pauses in frustration, running a hand through his hair to push it back out of his face, “I wasn’t trying to tell you how to feel. But comparing and contrasting our lives isn’t gonna help.”

Sukuna was offended. his life is different from yours, way different. And if he’s being honest, it’s not one you’d want to live anyways. Sleeping with random people, there’s not a difference from any of them. Half the time he can’t even remember them, or they’re blowing up his phone. 

It’s just a distraction for him, for what he hasn’t exactly figured out yet. Well, deep down he knows but he’d never let himself admit it. And with all the “relationships” you’ve been in. It’s the only way he stays sane at this point. 

“I know, I know, sorry for ‘comparin,” you said knowing you were wrong. 

He sighed not liking the way the conversation had taken a turn, “y’dont hafta say sorry Y/n. I just wish y’would channel your inner me or something.”

“What? You mean act crazy and go beat my ex up or something Sukuna?”

At first, he was just joking with that comment. Trying to bring the light back into the heavy conversation, but he thought about it and seeing a more crazy side of you wouldn’t be so bad. Not that he’s crazy, but thinking about seeing a more loose side of you intrigued Sukuna.

“Well, while that is a me thing to do it’s not exactly what I was thinking.”

“What were you thinking?”

“Fuck it.”

“Fuck it? That’s what you want me to do?”

That is such a Sukuna thing, but only with hookups. Make no mistake, Sukuna is an adult, and he does have responsibilities and priorities that he has to take care of now. So ‘fuck it’ is only for situations where he doesn’t have to care. 

“Yes. I want you to say fuck it to this whole situation, hang out with me the whole weekend and not contact him,” he says while crossing his arms. 

“Even if he calls me?”

“Especially if he calls you. I’m sure he’ll get the hint. Since you left your spare key there and made quite the exit,” he said deviously. 

You rolled your eyes and huffed out a, “fine, let’s fuck it.”

“With pleasure,” he stated. 

You were actually excited for this weekend, sure this wasn’t a very adult way to handle things. But if you were being honest, you didn’t want to handle it, you just wanted to act like it never happened. Not ideal, but it’s fine. Besides, some of your best life experiences were with Sukuna, what could go wrong?

Next

@/cafekitsune for the divider

[frollosversion]

Part 3/Last Part before it slips out of my head.

"How much of a Father am I?"

Again to new readers, this is the little backstory of Claude raising Quasi.

Part 1

Part 2

+-+-+

"M-master—!!" Quasimodo immediately greeted as soon as he saw the silhouette of his master's hat by the entrance of the bell tower.

Quasimodo grew up to be a happy boy albeit Frollo's opposite nature, very much like the archdeacon's personality; he respects claude so much, as much as possible he doesn't want to anger him— also because he receives punishments at times. a nice boy in general.

Quasimodo learned to read by the age of 3 and was already writing legibly at age 4. Claude was so surprised that the child had steady fingers despite his hands being a bit bigger than most kids. Of course he doesn't want to say he's proud but he does reward him with fresh bread and a small bunch of grapes which is different from his usual meal (stale bread and water).

Quasi was already 5 when he started to take interest in drawing. His subjects are mostly the people that he sees from below. Sometimes he asks his guardian to go down the bell tower just to draw them better so Frollo had to explain to him that he can't.

"M-master, why can't i go down the bell tower?" The little boy asked.

He expects him to answer 'because you're ugly' or whatever but at that time, he heard something else.

"People are cruel down there, my dear boy. They take advantage of you especially if you look nothing like them— which applies to you. A lot of them are evil and are just as corrupt as any other beings."

"Can't I just...maybe.. go out there one day, master?" The boy insisted.

"Do you want people to use you and take advantage of you? They are wicked and rotten, Quasimodo."

"But—"

"Think of your mother, boy! If your mother took her advantage on you and abandoned you, what makes you think you can't last a day with this disgusting, horrifying, vulgar crowd?! Remember that I am the only one who took you in with kindness." Claude raised his voice as his patience goes thin"

"S-sorry, master." Quasimodo apologized.

"If wanted to draw them, deal with it by drawing them from here. Do what you want but you are not to leave this bell tower. Do you understand??"

"Y-yes, master frollo."

"Remember what I taught you?"

"This... This is my sanctuary." Quasimodo sighed softly.

"That's right, my dear boy. This is your sanctuary. You're a smart kid." Frollo says sitting down, taking huge book from the shelf. "Shall we review your alphabet today?"

The 5-year old boy's sorry eyes are then replaced with delight.

"Yes master, I would love that very much!"

"Very well... A?"

"A-abomination."

"B?"

"Blasphemy..?"

"C?"

"C-c-contrition!"

"Good." Claude praises. "D?"

"Damnation."

"E?"

"Eternal Damnation..?"

"F?"

Quasimodo paused for a bit as he forgot what it was. He knows his master's gonna scold him if he forgets but he couldn't really remember so he tries to answer something else. Something closer...

"F-frollo—"

"Excuse me??" Claude tilts his head and furrowed his brows, making sure he heard it right. Quasimodo could only stutter in response.

Claude internally finds it so hilarious but he's never laughed in front of his child so he tries to keep a straight face, but his face certainly red for holding it.

"Hhh—kkk.." Claude snickered, looking away at the child.

"Sorry master... sorryyy." The child approached him, trying to look at his guardian's face.

"Th-that's your homework, okay? Know what the rest of your alphabet is." His voice came out stern despite him crumbling to his own thoughts.

"Yes, master." Quasimodo responded.

"I still have my duties. I'll see you at dinner." He placed the book down and stood up, leaving the bell tower.

Claude let out a good laugh after leaving him at the belltower. He still finds it hilarious and cute at the same time.

"Hahahha, he said 'Frollo'. That's amusing."

Frollo's mind was occupied by that small moment as he works in the palace of justice.

That night, he was eager to see his child more than usual.

—end—

[ohanny]

what kind of drunks would the pit babe characters be

babe - the hot girl. he acts all cool and sits there in his leather jacket, being hotter than anyone. his drinks also aren't half as strong as he let's people believe because there's nothing attractive about a sloppy drunk. if he's forced to take multiple shots, he will quietly walk to the bathroom to give himself a drunk girl pep talk in front of the mirror.

charlie - the sober one. he doesn't drink, period. he actually hates the taste. he was destined to be the designated driver (yay, cars!) and the mom friend (sometimes this makes him wish he did drink because fucking hell, he is friends with actual gremlins).

way - the professional. he's on his tenth shot of vodka at the bar, chasing them with a whiskey and coke, mumbling “weak” at the people who started acting up after their third drink.

pete - the crier. he's a nice guy working in a high stress environment, okay? on the rare occasions he gets completely wasted, he will see a particularly artfully arranged napkin dispenser and burst into tears because life is just so beautiful, you know? and it really is unfair how much shit all of them have had to endure!

north - the social butterfly. drunk north knows the lyrics to every song ever written. at the end of the night he has like 50 new instagram followers, he's helped a girl through a break up in the women’s bathroom, he's learned the dj’s mom’s name and might have accidentally agreed into a threesome with a married couple (not that he knew what exactly they were suggesting). he's just pure vibes.

sonic - the instigator. drunk sonic has opinions and no sense of self-preservation. he will walk straight up to the enormous bouncer, get right in his face and go “wow. you're like… really ugly.” on an average night out, he should have died around five times but always gets away unscatched because, like a princess, he gets rescued by people who think he is way too cute to die.

kim - the sappy one. also a total lightweight. will declare his love for you after three beers. give him a shot and he will earnestly look you in the eyes while clutching the hem of your shirt and tell you what a great job you do and how he has always secretly admired you.

kenta - the horny one. he wants, okay? he downright needs. is he going to do anything about it? no. he will sit in some corner, vibrating, stewing in his hormones and if anyone dares to ask him how he's doing, he will look at them and go “do you have any idea what i would let him do to me?” and his smile is so terrifying no one wants any details.

alan - the slutty one. yes, there is a difference. see, alan is a man of action. alan will make it awkward for everyone by sloppily mouthing at jeff’s neck and trying to shove his hand down jeff’s pants on the sidewalk while they wait for charlie to pull up.

jeff - the houdini. he just… disappears. one minute he's there and the next he's gone, only to be discovered three hours later on the roof of a supermarket, feeding chunks of bread to pigeons. either needs a helium balloon tied to his wrist so you can easily spot him in a crowd or an ankle monitor. (was once found in a car, the morning after a frantic search. gave them a sleepy little smile and said “the gps knew where i was.”)

dean - the mute. once he hits his limit, he goes totally nonverbal. just trails behind everyone with a big happy smile and nods his head when asked if he wants to dance / have another drink / make out. super happy to be there.

winner - the big shot. tells everyone he's like the best racer ever and when people who still have critical thinking skills ask for evidence, distracts them buy buying everyone a round of the cheapest shots the bar has to offer. keeps challenging people to arm wrestle despite having noodle arms. finishes the night pissed off, buys two portions of street food and sits down next to a homeless person to share. they always let him talk uninterrupted.

tony - never goes past one glass of wine or whiskey, a lesson he learned the hard way. the first contract he lost back when he was just starting out? he hit the post meeting cocktails a bit too hard and drunk performed whitney houston’s “i will always love you” in karaoke. the humiliation was too much and i fear it really affected his behavior negatively.

[jerseyluck]

Batman: No Man's Land: Mosiac (Story 5)

In the previous story Penguin was taken down. In this story, Greg Rucka makes his debut in a story with that should be gooo....

...Oh dear god, the art is going to tank this story. I apologize to the artist of Bread and Circuses, this is awful art.

Okay, that out of the way we open on a scarred villain giving a speech to his cult about you got to scar yourself to fit into No Man's Land. Bold choice for the Two-Face story in No Man's....

Wait. That's supposed to be Black Mask. Okay, this comic is sure making so choices of taking away his trademark mask (the thing that makes him look different from the average thug), but that's what we are doing with this artwise.

Anyway, the story gets to Barbara Gordon trying to get information from her informants. Also in Gordon family drama, Commissioner Gordon is still butthurt that Batman was not in No Man's Land for the first 100 days.

And what is Batman doing? He is dropping off some criminals in a prison which is being run by Lock-Up and KGBeast. After this Batman gives Batgirl a warning that Blask Mask is looking to attack Wanye-owned building. Batgirl is sent to protect Oracle's Watchtower (which is Wayne owned).

And is a good thing because Black Mask's cult is heading towards Barbara's location. Black Mask easily overwhelms the cops guarding her, but then Batgirl shows up...to Barbara's displeasure.

This being the first time that Barbara has seen the new Batgirl, she is getting some emotional turmoil from this. Barbara has some regret that she is stuck in a wheelchair, anger that someone took her identity, and some sadness at it all.

But Batgirl easily stops the cult's attack, beating Black Mask. The cult flees what (goblin) Jim Gordon and the GCPD show up. Afterwards Batgirl gives Black Mask to Batman so he can be dealt with permanently.

In more GCPD news, Gordon and his wife Sarah are having an argument about everything that happened. But when Detective Renee Montaya goes to put a stop to it, she finds the couple making out.

Batman drops Black Mask off at Blackgate so Lock-Up can watch over him. And then Bats gets angry at Batgirl for following him which gets her put on thin ice.

And to keep the cycle of anger going, Barbara confronts Bruce over the new Batgirl. Oracle understands that there is new Batgirl, but she will not give her approval to her. And the store ends with a criminal court giving an execution to one of Black Mask's thugs.

As you might be able to tell, the art kinda tanked the story for me. While Rucka captures the continuing fractures of GCPD and masterly shows Barbara emotional struggle with the fact that she is stuck in one spot/frustration at the new Batgirl taking her spot.

But Frank Teran's art makes every male look like a monster. (The guy in image 3 isn't a zombie but instead is Commissioner Gordon, for example.) But he can sure draw the women without that ugliness. His art hurts the story, sometimes it is hard to tell the action of the story. Which is a shame because there is good stuff here. But Greg Rucka still has plenty of time in No Man's Land.

5/10

[audioeidolon]

Okay absolutely in love with the new chapter! Are you doing the ice age megafauna species thing I think Ice and Fire does ( did not read but sees lore and design videos all over). Like giant frick off deer megaloceros and giant danger cow aurochs and wooly rhino things( mud horn?). Also the biology stuff you want to ramble on big jam of mine so ramble on you got someone listening. Spill the tea * produces giant mug*

I'm glad you like it!! Honestly the whole time I was writing it was like pulling teeth I was like just keep going... even if you think it's bad... just keep going... (SOMETIMES I think my writing is good, but I'm trying to get better at writing even when I don't think so lol.)

Also I am excited to get to the parts that inspired the fic in the first place... The end of book 1, the trip down Kingsroad, the Three Eyed Raven... (Kristin winding up a baseball bat to dome a musty ass bird)

And yes! The megafauna! I think everything in the North is fuck off huge in general. Like, I know it's based off of 'Scotland', but I prefer to think of it as a mix of tundra and Northern Canada. Makes way more sense, especially with the wolves and bears. I'm still deciding if I want the unicorns on Skagos to be actual unicorns, shaggy little pony unicorns, or like. Wooly rhino's lol.

BIOLOGY HEADCANON RAMBLING TIME (sorry to infodump, here I'll put it under a cut)(TW: Sex / gender / biology?)

Piglin/Elytrian biology and culture is really interesting to me, and anyone who's read my other fic's knows I LOVE a good Creature Feature fic. Like I dropped a lot of headcanons of my own in what I've written so far of A Sonnet, although I kind of couched it in narrative (hopefully it came off interesting and not info-dumpy lol):

-Piglin's are HIGHLY accomplished at temperature management. Both heat and cold effect them less than other species, but their metabolism is a little more finicky as a result. They may stop eating, or eat MORE, or perhaps hibernate depending on conditions.

-Piglin eyesight is in all honesty, not very good. (TECHNOGLASSES) But their sense of smell (like pigs/boars) is INCREDIBLE. He identifies most people and things by smell. (Techno squinting at two year old Rickon rolling on the floor with the wolf puppies like, who's ugly dog is that Phil: That's a human child Techno: Ew)

-Piglin don't have gender/sex like Overworlders necessarily do. Any piglin can have/carry young, because in such a hostile environment as the Nether it's just practical. (Techno: What, like it's hard?) They may have to switch sex characteristics to make this happen. I think this is the height of slapstick comedy for Techno to have to deal with. Piglin identify each other more by role than gender. (Brute, Worker, etc.)

-On that note, Elytrian ALSO don't have sex/gender like Overworlders do, although it's a little closer. Phil is very jealous he cannot Make Egg. (where's that chat screenshot where misstrixtin asks if he wants her to get him pregnant? peak) Elytrian have one queen/Empress Elytrian that has young, so to speak. Phil is a natural wife guy, biology assigned.

-(I'm bringing all this gender/biology stuff up because I don't know if it'll ever come up naturally in the story, and I think it's very funny.)

-Piglin are big on crafting! Weaving, brewing, carpentry, etc. It's why if Techno holds still for longer than .5 seconds he starts making bread and weaving baskets. Excellent wife material. They have a natural inclination to nest/burrow/settle in. I personally headcanon that as to why Techno is so protective of His Stuff.

-ANY Player though is very good at crafting and building, even without the ambient magic of Minecraft to help them. It's hardwired in their code when they spawn into their very first server. They know how to make a hinge and sew a coat and skin a rabbit, etc. So even though in-game canon means you can throw an iron ore into an in-game smelter and get an iron ingot like magic, Techno and Phil ALSO know how to realistically refine and process ores in a Song of Ice and Fire universe. It's like a knowledge overlay. I hope that makes sense.

I hope literally anyone else finds this interesting and not unhinged lmao.

[rise-my-angel]

Any chance we could get a micro series..."The Adventures of Hotpie"..?

It was stupid to be nervous about it. That's certainly how Arry would put it, he thought. Or, Arya, he supposed, now that he knew her real name. One of them Starks, the one they called traitors. But, Arry wasn't a traitor, not to him. She was rude and called him stupid as much as he and Lommy used to call her names back when they thought she was a boy.

But, it had been a long time since then, and Lommy was dead. He watched as some Lannister sword stick him through the throat and he was gone. Hotpie had seen people die before, but not friends. Not until that night, which is why no matter what he stuck by Arry and Gendry so close after that. They were all they had left, until now.

They had been found by the Brotherhood Without Banners. Those outlaws the Mountain was looking for. He wanted nothing to do with them, but they weren't really given a choice and were brought to the Inn they all stood in now.

That big ugly soldier, The Hound he recalled, recognized Arry as Arya Stark and now the Brotherhood were keeping her, and Gendry he guessed. Gendry was a smith so he was useful, Hotpie didn't know where he'd fit in with the group now. Or so he thought.

He had baked some brown bread for the Inn Keeper, and decided he was too valuable to let go and was keeping him as payment. Not that he minded, he wasn't suited for being out on the road clearly. But, Arry and Gendry were still leaving, and Hotpie had wanted to do something.

Moreso for Arry. Gendry was fine, but Hotpie knew he'd have been dead without Arry many times, and would actually miss her. Realizing she was one of them Starks, he thought of an idea. The brown bread the Inn Keeper liked so much. What if he made Arry some, in the shape of a wolf? Like her house?

So, as they all prepared to leave outside, Hotpie got to work in the kitchen inside. Now though, the nerves finally kicked in. He knew he was the odd one out of the group, and hoped that this would be okay enough of a send off for getting him this far. They were his friends and he'd miss them, even if he wasn't so sure they'd miss him. He still wanted to do something to show how he felt.

Hotpie could sometimes still hear Lommy as if he were still alive. Would make fun of him for saying how he "felt", and Hotpie would've called him names in return for being such an idiot about it. But, Lommy wasn't there. Just him, and it was about to be that way for a very long time.

He was pretty certain he was never going to see Arry or Gendry again. He hoped he would, but he didn't keep his hopes up.

Finally, the bread was done and he wrapped it up. The still steaming loaf nice and warm and soft and while he was happy with himself, he could only hope that Arry didn't hate it.

Instantly she was on him when he came outside, saying they were leaving soon and was confused when he told them he wasn't coming. Explaining it to them both, "I baked some brown bread for the Inn Keep and she said she never had better. Told Thoros she's keeping me as a payment for all the free meals she's given him. Anyway, it's not me the Brotherhood wants. My brother ain't no king. I'm not a Stark of Winterhell." Correcting him saying it was Winterefell, his face dropped in confusion, asking "You sure?"

She just gave him that flat faced expression he'd come to miss as she said just as flatly, no doubt trying very hard not to call him stupid. "I'm sure."

Shrugging it off, he summoned away his nerves to try and act as casual about it as possible. Gendry was still there and it would be awkward for Hotpie to get emotional in front of another boy about a girl, even when it wasn't in that way. "Well, I made you something."

Unwrapping it, she seemed to look confused at first and the nerves came right back, the butterflies twisting in his stomach that she hated it and he just gave his only real friends an immensely embarrassing goodbye gift. "What is it?"

"It's a wolf."

Looking more closely at it, then sharing a look with Gendry that Hotpie was too scared to follow, she tapped at one end of it, a little smile on her face that he liked far better then the flat one when she insulted him. "That's the tail?"

She kept looking at the wold bread as he finally turned to Gendry, who looked just about ready to leave this conversation. He'd miss him too, but not as much. Hotpie wouldn't say that, nor did he think Gendry would take offense but it was just different between boys. Arry was a girl at the end of the day, his friendship with her was different even if at different times they both thought the other a stupid idiot.

Gendry nodded, "Well, be safe."

Hotpie only said what was on his mind, and he meant it. "You too. Don't get stabbed."

Just as awkwardly did Gendry respond, "You don't...burn your fingers.." Before patting him on the shoulder, grabbing his things and turning to leave. Leaving Hotpie and Arry, who was still gently holding the wolf bread.

Finally the nerves went away, and was replaced by a sadness. Arry showed up with Yoren as this scrawny orphan boy that Hotpie and Lommy liked to make fun of. Watched Yoren and Lommy both die when they got captured by the Lannisters, almost got killed by the Mountain and the Tickler, realized Arry was a girl, escaped by some scary assasin guy that Hotpie didn't even understand how she got the trust of, and now?

She was leaving for more dangerous adventures with some greater purpose as some Lord's daughter, sister of some King. And Hotpie would stay here. The little Inn making food always wondering if she never made it longer, or if one day she'd come walking back inside the Inn and he'd get to have his friend back.

But he didn't hold out hope, being on the road together didn't give him much of that. So he'd hold onto this moment, and the memories as long as he could. She gave him a real smile, small and solemn, but real. "Goodbye, Hotpie."

"Goodbye, Arry."

He didn't stay to watch her get on the horse and leave. He was about to close the door to return inside when he heard her shouting, "Hey Hotpie," Turning to look, her voice was higher pitched and something actually happy sounding for once. Her mouth half full with a bite of the bread he baked her as she gestured down to it, "It's really good."

Hotpie smiled before going back inside for good. In that moment he decided he'd keep working on the bread. Putting out of his mind the question of what if he'd never see his friend again, Hotpie got to work.

He would work on making a better wolf shaped bread every chance he got, and work on it he did.

[anotherrosesthatfell]

This is most likely unable to happen, but what if Starcross somehow existed in E.L.A?

This feels like the parents likely to hook up with their ex twice... 💀 Okay, let's see...

The story is like

after Dream found out Ink cheated on him. Unlike the original, he was just sad and went to Hope for comfort and tea. But this one, he decided to meet up with Cross.

Cross is stupid for not changing his number, so Dream called for Cross and cried on the phone. So they meet up in park, Cross was awkward with Dream but he brought him a banana bread, Dream's favourite.

They talked, Cross awkwardly comfort Dream but he bad at it. While comforting getting comforted by Cross, Dream accidentally said he still love Cross while he is still weeping like a baby.

Cross is flustered but he hesitated. After a while, he responded to Dream confession and kissed Dream's cheek. He says he is very sorry for his past actions and if Dream want to get back together, he willing to do so and repent his sins.

So they hooked up, Dream divorced Ink, Lux is shocked, Palette is shocked, Dream got the full custody of Palette, Hope is overprotective but as long Dream is happy they are happy too but still hate Cross.

Drop is not a fake princess or under Dream custody cause the divorce and Dream didn't get attached.

So now, Starcross and Palette are the heir... So those two need to prove their worth.

Okay, let's go to the fun facts.

Drop and Starcross will be in the same age obviously.

Dream started to adore Starcross and Lux more than Palette but he still care for Palette and provide all he needs.

Dream and Cross relationship are so wholesome, each party fix their mistake and misunderstanding, Cross repent his mistake.

Lux actually got developed more kindness trait than the original because Cross and Dream attend in her life much more than Passivemare now but she still want to get rid of Palette (and probably now starcross)

Drop and Starcross will be bestie, not knowing their parents relationships.

Starcross doesn't really care for Palette and only Lux since he figured out that Palette is just his half brother.

Starcross will be Lux sidekick instead of Merciless.

Merciless will not have any feelings for Lux in this au since he will never meet her. (And he is probably dead because he is alive thanks to Lux saving him and since Starcross is born, Nightmare is angry so he killed Merciless)

He bullies Palette 💀

Starcross opinion on people

Dream:

"Papa is absolutely the best papa in the world! I love him so much, I am so lucky to be born in such wonderful family."

Cross:

"don't tell Papa this but Daddy is better hehe! Daddy always spoiled me with sweets and pastries!"

Lux:

"Ah, Sissy! Sissy is the best big sister. I hope instead of me one of the heir, I want my sissy be the heir! She is the best, she deserves much better. Sometimes she talks to herself but I don't mind it."

Palette:

"Ah... This lowly thing? It's a shame that he is my brother.. Well, half brother pfft... He stands no chance to be the heir. A weak, fragile boy like him? Just ew. Papa only let him to be one of the heir because he pity him, we all know I will be the next rightful heir."

Hope:

"Miss Hope! She- I mean they? I am still confused but anyway, Miss Hope is the best! They taught me everything, how to fight, how to cook, how to hide a body- I mean how to clean my room. What a loyal babysitter."

Ink:

"People said she is the most beautiful woman in this multiverse but to me.. PFFT, SHE IS SO UGLY. My sissy is much better."

Error:

"He's a pathetic man, he is so ugly. I don't hate him but if I need to choose between selling my organ or befriend him, I choose selling my organ."

Drop:

"Well, their kid is the only cute thing. Drop is my best friend but a crybaby. That's okay, I'll kill people who made her cry. Somehow she always scared of me and begged me to let her go, I don't get it."

Swap:

"Drunkle! He is a brave man, it's a sad emotion to know how he lost his abilities."

Murder trio:

"Daddy told me they're actually nice. I don't believe it until Papa confirmed it by saying Daddy used to worked with them."

Nightmare:

"I'll be honest, he is handsome than that Destroyer. I'll give him 7/10. Other than that, his personality is trash! I'll be glad if he kill Palette though!"

Crescent:

"The priest whom in love with my half brother... Wow, I never thought Palette can be this pathetic that he needed an old man to love him! I heard his two brothers are dead, what a sad man."

Bonus

Artemis:

"The only remaining sibling of the priest. I heard she is treasure by the King. Hmm, well she is pretty just like her mother. What I don't like is how she supports Palette and acted hostile towards me. I only teased Palette, it's his fault for being such a baby!" by @itzcherrybonbon

Vivi:

"A sister of mine? Well, half sister. Sissy pity her so I had to act nicely. What a waste of time. Only I deserve Sissy attentions!" bye @starvivi

Lily:

"That doll maker? Well, not gonna lie, she creeps me out. I hate the fact she is obsessed with eyes but I love how she torments Palette. It's a refreshing sight to see!"

If the dead one are still alive

Merciless:

"Well, well, well... He is broken. Sissy says she pitied him so she befriended him but I feel there's more than that. Instead of a human, I rather view him a broken, lifeless, pathetic doll."

Angst:

"That suicidal prince? He is the opposite of that priest. Not like I hate him but I don't like him. At least, he's a good brother to that doll unlike that Priest."

Paperjam:

"Well, she's a cool older sister but I prefer Sissy more! Her accent had me confused but I am still learning. She has a very unique accent."

Gradient:

"The opposites of the suicidal prince but I like his vibe. He can be loud which is annoying but fun to be around."

[walspurgisnaught]

Big Man | Kajae's Writing Corner

Josh,

I seriously don’t know how you do it.

How you manage to snag women left and right.

Every time you drag me out to the club,

You instantly seem to grab any woman’s attention.

You’re basking in their attention, and I’m standing next to you like some lost puppy,

Concentrating on the ice cubes in my drink.

When we leave, I have to drop you off at home with some random woman,

And you do God knows what.

Well, I know what you do.

I just want to know, 

What charisma do you have that makes these women want you?

To make them want to go home with a completely random stranger,

And sleep with them? 

Know them, as the Bible says.

Privately.

Intimately. 

I mean, I dress well.

I have a decent-paying job.

I have an excellent education.

Did I tell you I went to Yale?

Yu neva let me forget.

And I do tell women that! 

Every date I’ve been on!

Which aren’t much…

The thing is,

I just don’t see what I’m doing wrong.

I get depressed sometimes, 

Because sometimes I see myself,

As this unloveable, repulsive creature,

When I’m anything but.

Right?

Look, Taquan,

I tink your perception of mi is outta pocket.

Yu comparin’ me to some…

Big shot playa,

Getting gyals, sleepin’ with every gyal who make eye contact with me,

Wen that’s kinda like, 

Da farthest ting from de truth.

I…when I…okay,

Wen I brought ya along wit me to the club for ya birthday or whatever,

Yuh, I was talkin’ to a good ‘mount of chicks,

And yuh, I slept with one of ‘em.

But the ting is,

Those gyals ain’t the gyals yu picturin’ in ya head.

Most of ‘em are like…like me.

Broke…and honestly a bit ugly. 

Dey not the most ideal people.

Yu think when I come into a room,

Gyals instantly wanna sleep with me,

But realistically,

I nine times outta ten,

End up bringing the gyal,

With a drinking problem,

And who smell like a wet dog home.

Not the gyals with the big tits or asses, 

But some middle-aged woman

Havin’ a midlife crisis or somethin’.

And I’m not degradin’ these gyals or anyting,

Cause I’m exactly like them.

Sad, poor, 

Livin’ in a 250-square-foot apartment

Payin’ $1200 for said apartment,

Buyin’ cheap takeout and wastin’ my money 

Goin’ to clubs to get drunk and slobber on gyals.

…I don’ know…

Alright, all I’m saying is

Yu don’ wanna be like me

‘Cause the women I attract,

Is not the kind of people I see yu endin’ up with,

Yu…ya know,

Nature's Own wheat sliced bread.

And I’m the moldy Easter spice bun.

Yu get it?

No, I don’t think so.

Yeah, no prob’lm.

I remembered yu American.

Yun no nothin’ about spice bread. 

In Jamaica, I hadda eat dat for my breakfast,

Ev’ry day.

Couldn’t ask for no cereal, or cornflakes,

Like I saw on TV,

Or my grammie would give me a good smack 

Upside my head.

Ha!

I miss Jamaica man,

Where yu could feel the nice cool breeze on ya face.

New York beaches is ass man,

Nah, I cyan even call it a beach,

It’s like a lake!

Some dutty ass, stinkin’ ass lake.

Yu’d be blown away effa came to Jamaica. 

Seriously, I miss it man.

Yeah.

Yuh.

Well still.

It’s nice to interact with some form of the female sex.

Yo, don’ eva call women ‘the female sex’ again.

Dat’s probably why dey don’t talk to you.

Soundin’ like a whole dictionary, man. 

But I can’t help it! 

That’s who I am.

You see, women are attracted to the ‘bad boy’ persona.

And I’m everything but.

I clock in at 10:30.

I’m a law-abiding citizen.

I pay my taxes.

But women aren’t attracted to that. 

They see me as boring, as..as a goody two shoes.

They’re attracted to danger and excitement, 

Like moths to a flame.

Eeen know about dat, man.

Maybe yu just boring.

Like..okay, imagine yu on a date with me.

Whatcha gonna say? Talk to me.

Okay…okay, umm…

Okay! 

So, I greet myself, 

“Hello, my name is Taquan Johnson. 

I’m 26 years old.

I’m a junior marketing manager at ‘Adventure Digital Marketing and Co.’

I live in Longwood, The Bronx

I own my own two bed, one bath apartment at--”

Shut up.

What. I’m not done--

Shut up. 

You sound like one of those…

One of those news broadcasters on CNN or somethin’.

You sound like a flipping robot, 

Just readin’ the text in your system.

You ain’t even ask me how I am first!

Just went straight to talkin’ about yourself.

Look, when you onna date,

You gotta make sure your gyal feels like she’s the only one inna room,

You gotta make ha feel good, like give ha da butterflies in the stomach.

You gotta sweet talk ha, pamper ha, make ha feel like she’s the only one you lookin' at.

Hell, kiss ha hand if you got to.

But don’ go on sayin’ 

“I’s dis an’ dat,

I’s a big man, big job, big apartment”

‘Cause you een a big man. 

Maybe on de outside, yeah,

But you weak, man.

Like a small, itty bitty flowa.

Yu see, wen yu say stuff like dat,

Women gon tink yu can provide everyting fa ‘em.

Women gon tink yu  can supply all dey needs,

Pay dey bills,

Wash dey car,

Go an’ rev ‘em up wen dey start beatin’ up dey gyalfriend

Over who like who and who did what with who.

And een saying it wrong for women to tink dat way.

And een even saying it wrong for yu to do it. 

But I know yu een dat kinda guy.

Yu weak, yu get jealous,

Yu‘ll get pissy, tink dis woman usin’ yu,

Tinking she only wan yu fa ya money, 

But yu’ll neva break up wit ha,

Cause yu still tink she the best ting that eva happen to you.

Cause yu tink yu don’ deserve ha. 

I don’t think I’m like that.

Een tellin’ you what you tink, 

I tellin yu what I know!

Ev’rybody knows.

Dat’s why gyals won’ come up to you.

Cause yu weak!

Shut up! 

Shut up!

What, you--you just like insulting people?

And telling them God knows what because you think you know them?

Like an asshole?

I’m not weak, you won’t even hear the word “weak” and my name in the same sentence. 

I am successful, I am going to be an innovator, I'm the first black man holding a junior position at my marketing firm, and you say I’m weak?

Can’t believe I went to you for advice,

You pathetic junkie,

Just spending all day smoking weed and liming at the club.

I’m not weak. 

I’m not.

Yu know yu just proving my point.

Yeah, okay, right.

Seriously…can’t believe…stupid asshole…

…I’m leaving, okay?

Don’ go. 

Why shouldn’t I?

‘Cause yu’d be proving my point.

Yu tink yu strong? 

Sit back down an’ listen to wat I haffa say.

Why should I be listening to someone who is insulting me?

Een insulting you, I tellin’ you the truth!

Yu tink yu man enough?

Stop giving mi these outbursts,

Saying dat yu’s an innovator an’ important,

And whatnot,

And sit down and listen,

Cause een gonna cut around the corners,

On wat I tink bout you.

Now are yu gonna knock me down when I tell yu?

Or are yu gonna sit down like a man and contemplate?

I don’t even know why…

Go, if yu weak.

Go on out de door.

I don’ drink with weak people. 

…I’ll stay.

Aight.

Yu’s weak. Yu are.

Plenty men are weak. 

Plenty men tink dey big shot,

Because dey got a nice job,

And nice house and car,

And dey hair ain’t thinning,

And dey ass ain’t floppy like an old man’s,

And dey dress good, new Jordans, new Nike’s,

And dey talk loud, and hard, and rough,

And dey drink, and burp, and fart,

And all the gyals wanna wine up pon them,

And all the gyals wan’ them to take them home,

And the gyals bellowing them name in the bedroom.

Oh yeah, they think they bigshot. 

Big man, big playa. 

But they weak. 

They weak and duncey.

Yu wanna know why?

Cause real, strong men,

Don’t need the big house, shiny car,

New shoes, new hoodie,

Rolex watch, sharp new haircut,

High salary job, high rise apartment,

To be a man. 

Yu wanna know how ta be a man?

Yu wanna know how ta get gyals?

Just be. 

Now I een sayin’ these enhancements ain’t nice,

Hell, yu wanna wear an iced out gold chain bling watch?

Okay.

Not mi problem.

But don’ let dat define you. 

Don’ build up your life on adjectives.

“I’s successful, I’s rich, I’s gonna be someone important in life.”

Cause nine times outta ten, 

Yu ain’t.

Yu gonna be a footnote,

For a company, 

If yu real annoying, maybe your neighborhood.

Dey gon have a 4 second blip of your face 

On the college alumni ‘Notable’s List’

And dat’s it.

Yuh, yu could leave a legacy fa ya chilren,

But den what? Yu tink your great-great grandchildren

Gonna be remembering all them adjectives yu give yourself?

Nah.

Dey gon be remembering the money,

Not yu.

Look, wat I’m tryin’ to say is,

Stop saying yu gonna be dis and dat,

And jus’ be it already.

Stop tellin’ me bout your future plans,

And jus’ do it.

Yu say I’m big playa. 

Yu say I get all de gyals.

And I told yu I don’.

Yuh, I sleep around a lot,

But een do it ‘cause,

I see dis nice, fine-lookin’ gyal,

And I wanna bed her,

So I can whisper bout our future children in ha ear,

And den dump ha off at the subway,

And then brag to my friends ‘bout how dumb she is,

That she could eva have a life wit me,

Cause obviously, I’s a big man, right?

I’s a muckamuck,

Dump and trash women left and rite,

Addin’ up the body count.

Nah. 

Dat’s not why I sleep with women.

I still don’ know why I do it.

I know if I keep it up,

I certainly ain’t going to heaven,

Imma be rite dere contortin’ about,

Wit da lustfuls in the Inferno.

But een biggin’ up myself,

And puffing my chest,

And braggin’ bout it to the first person I see.

And een condemnin’ it either,

And lookin’ down on those who do it.

I just do it.

An’ that’s that. 

Yu want women?

Do you.

Do what yu do ev’ryday.

Go ta work,

Come home,

Warm up ya leftovers.

Go to sleep.

And women will come to yu.

Ta be a man,

Yu jus’ be a man.

No ‘hancements, no special pills.

You jus’ be a man.

Whoeva dat man may be,

It is still yu.

No matta wat.

If yu talk high and soft,

Or squeaky and grindy,

Or deep and low,

Or gravelly and harsh,

Yu is still a man.

No matta if

Yu skinny and thin assa thatch of wheat,

Or yu belly hang ova ya pants,

Or yu perfectly sandwiched in between,

Yu is still a man.

And no amount of people,

Who say, “To be a man,

To be strong,

Yu must do dis and dat,

Buy dis and dat,

Talk like dis,

Act like dat”

Cause dey lying.

Cause da man wit da most expensive things, 

And mos’ beautiful women,

And all kinds of acclaim and ‘tardom,

Got da weakest, mos’ fragile heart, 

Da most uncontrollable, impulsive, 

Unreliable heart.

And yu wanna be like dat,

Fine with mi.

But if yu wanna go down dat road,

At least be man enough to admit

Dat yu weak.

‘cause only weak men go down dat road,

okay?

…Okay?

Sorry, I was just thinking.

Yu betta be. I gave yu someting to ponder bout.

Yuh bwai, ponder on dat!

Heh, I was preachin’ bwai!

Heh! Heh!

Could you pass me a drink?

Sure man, drink up.

And aye, no more whinin’ bout gyals,

Shush up yu mouth,

And finish dis Monopoly board game thingie with me.

Shucks, interrupting mi game fa gyal talk,

Steups!

Een yu therapist, man.

I don't know why

I even let you rope me into this game,

I actually haven't played in years, you know,

And the last time I played,

I lost stupendously.

It was actually a match between me and my sister, and--

Bwai, roll de damn dice.

Yes, sir!

[scribeforchrist-blog]

Closed Hands

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK

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+ 1 Thessalonians 5:22 Abstain from every form of evil.

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VERSE OF THE DAY

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+ 2 Corinthians 9:6 The point is this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.

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** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN TRUTHS **

I AM CONTENT

I AM GIVING

I AM ENDURING

I AM PERSISTENT

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THOUGHTS:

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   When we give unto others, sometimes, we give because we see it on Instagram, or maybe we give because we think this is what we should do, so it doesn’t come from the heart. Some of us give freely and willingly because we want to and desire to help, but when we give, we give sparingly and sparingly, which means in a way that is careful to use or give only a little of something.”

   So when we give this way, we are giving just enough to say we gave, and when we give in this way, we will get back in this way, but when we generously go beyond what we should, we will reap this in that way. Some of you wonder why I haven’t God given unto you or where is my blessing; how often do you bless someone else? How often do you make someone's day with something to eat, your time, or even a kind word? Some of us don’t have the finances, but we have the time, and that’s what we can give because the verse doesn’t say money; it just says to give it freely, so whatever we can give free, we must try to. Because whatever we sow, we will reap in anything we do.

  Verse 7: Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver

  We must give from our hearts. Whatever we decide is up to us. As I said, a lot of people think of giving meaning money, but we can give our time, we can give kind words, but whatever we do, we must be cheerful about it; if we are going to complain while doing it, don’t do it because God loves when we give cheerfully he loves to see us be happy to help one another and a lot of us don’t.

  Some people say well, they got themselves into that mess or problem it’s not my job to help them, yes it is; we are our brother's keepers, but in everything, always ASK THE HOLY SPIRIT IS IT OKAY TO HELP SOMEONE; never do it without asking, but when we ask, and he says yes help this person or  help that person we must do it in a way that is willing, and not an ugly spirit

 Verse 8 And God can bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.

    It says here that we need to know that God will bless us abundantly so that we always have what we need and will never be without. We never have to say well, I have given my last $20.00 dollars away ,I don’t have anything left for me . God will ALWAYS take care of your needs if you give freely, and that’s what he wants us to do ,because sometimes we are planting seeds and helping people we shouldn’t be helping, but that is why we must ask the Holy Spirit , hey, how do you want me to do give today?

  What is God asking you to do? Is it to help a neighbor, to help a homeless person, or to give to the community, maybe some time with the elderly or a widow? Whatever it is, do it joyously.

 Verse 10: He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will also supply and increase your store of seed and enlarge the harvest of your righteousness.

    Right here, the word tells us God will ensure we have. He will enlarge the harvest of the righteous because we don’t look at our accounts and say I have so much money , we don’t look at our homes and say I'm protected because of where I live ; we don’t look at our cabinets and say, I have plenty , but we look to God and say I have because I know my God will give unto me . I am complete because I know he will supply all my needs. What we have in our accounts , no matter where we live and no matter how food we have it doesn’t matter friends it’s about our heart and our relationship with Christ !

    I have because God has given to me; anytime we give, we can't look at anything here on earth. Still, what does our father love? A cheerful giver, we must always want to please him in everything we do; if you're having trouble helping your neighbor , ask God to help release you from that, but you must be willing to change .

  A long time ago. I did want to give because I didn’t want to be without, but once he showed me and opened my eyes to see Lui, you will have, or Lui, I will take care of you, that’s when I started to give, and felt secure in my life because I understood that he will supply me with what I need and that he’ll take care of me all I had to do is believe and trust him.

  ***Today, we learned how to give to people freely through our time and actions, not just financially; sometimes that’s hard to do because everyone wants money. Still, some people in this world all they want is a listening ear or a ride to the store, but we must be obedient to God when we ask him if he wants us to help someone. Are you willing to help those in need, or will you ignore helping someone because you feel they can do it themselves? We must always be our brother's keeper.

  Also, this week, we learned about being behind a veil, and this happens when we ignore the truth of God to partake in our fleshly desires. We must understand the longer we allow our sins to become our master, the more we become a slave to this world and not a friend of Christ. What we have in life is temporary, but the things above us are forever. However, we must deny ourselves daily to be residents in heaven one day. We aren’t from here, so what we store up here won’t transfer over, but we must always stay in our word, waiting and listening for our father's commands. ©Seer~ Prophetess Lee

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PRAYER

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Heavenly Father, thank you for today and the things you have given us; lord, help us take our devotions today and this week and apply them to our lives. Sometimes, we don’t look at how good we have it or how blessed we are, but today, Father, we thank you for giving and supplying our needs. Thank you for being our anchor when we feel off balance; every day, we want to deny ourselves and follow you; help us to stay on the straight and narrow path . In Jesus' Name Amen

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REFERENCES

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+ Luke 6:38 give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you.”

 

+  Proverbs 22:9 Whoever has a bountiful eye will be blessed, for he shares his bread with the poor.

 

+ Hebrews 6:10 For God is not unjust so as to overlook your work and the love that you have shown for his name in serving the saints, as you still do.

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FURTHER READINGS

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Proverbs 25

Joel 3

Titus 3

Revelations 7

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[mariju]

(My friend asked me to write this months ago so I'm doing it noww...) what have I done with my life?

Yan! Zenitsu x GN! Reader

Warnings: suicide, death, kidnapping, mentions of blood and stalking, mentions of knives, down right ugly and horrible things, torture

No mentions of y/n

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What happened? Where did you go wrong?

You thought everything was okay... You convinced yourself that everything was fine. It wasn't. Now everyone you know is either dead or missing...

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Zenitsu was a coward at heart; people take him for granted because of his fears. But no one could have expected him to this crazy over someone. That someone-was you. You like him-don’t get me wrong- but his behavior has changed…he’s now more protective and jealous then he was before. It was overwhelming for you, sometimes you wanted to go entire days without seeing him, but you pushed forward for everyone else’s sake.

Zenitsu the coward… he wasn’t a coward anymore… mouths go by; everything has some how gotten worse. His behavior, your mentality and health, everything has gone to shit. You had caught him one time threatening one of the lady staff members when you were traveling for the night “you don’t deserve them…” he had yelled into the lady’s face. And that wasn’t the only time that happened. It would be a miracle if it didn’t happen again. Your friends and family are truly worried about you. They haven’t heard from you in months…it’s not like you can when you’re stuck in a house with a crazy demon slayer- who doesn’t want anything or anyone to talk to you… just him only…

The smell of blood fills your small house, he didn’t really clean or care about the sent of blood that wafted through every corner. It’s a surprise no one has noticed or commented on it. But you’ve been stuck here for years now…how many? You don’t remember… sometimes you wish you could just let your guts spill out. Let them fall to the floor as your aching body slowly and painfully dies. Your thoughts are maddening now, they haunt you…everyday, every night, of every hour and minute. “How could you be so stupid? You didn’t see the signs?! They were in front of you this whole time?!?” Those voices would continue to scream and growl, they nipped at your brain.

Knives lay in third row of the kitchen, there’s a bread knife, a butcher knife, and different varieties of knives. Pick one…it’s not that hard? You brought yourself into this mess, now it’s time to take you out of it. Let your blood flow and pour from every wound HE inflicted on you…. Cut your throat and stomach, let your intestines spill… let yourself be free from this pain and suffering….

I want to be free.

Memories?

What memories?

He did this.

Zenitsu. He did this to you

He made you do this

He killed everyone you know and loved

He let them die in front of you…

You watched die.

You let them die

Why do you even exist?

He watched you like a hawk.

Now your stuck in that room…

Why…

What did I do to deserve this…?