fxxtballsajoke-blog

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

so im not gonna explain myself except that i need a frest start. i’ll keep a few select storylines and will be messaging each person individually about that. feel free to follow me here

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

so im not gonna explain myself except that i need a frest start. i’ll keep a few select storylines and will be messaging each person individually about that. feel free to follow me here

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

Things hadn’t been so black and white like he thought they had been in his adolescent age. Gray filled the spaces that not even Jackson Whittemore could begin to understand. And here he was, here in London, thousands of miles away from California and the forsaken town that was called Beacon Hills. The town once being his home now became a place he wished to never return to-- for obvious reasons.

Now he lived comfortably in the city of London in a pent house, alone, while his parents resided in the mansion that was left to the Whittemore’s after David’s father’s death. The entire estate would be his one day, but for now the city life suited him better. Aside from the Kanima to Werewolf transformation, things had been going rather smooth for Jackson, not that he deserved any good fortune, not after everything he had done. But things were better finally, he was better. Werewolf 101 wasn’t as clean-cut as Derek made it seemed. They talked for maybe a half hour, the Hale giving some wise advice, but some Jackson obviously wouldn’t take at first. Control had to be the hardest followed by being able to hide it from his parents which he did well enough when they let him live alone in the city while he attended school. McCall was right-- this was not some gift that would change his life for the better. He wasn’t the star player nor the popular kid any longer--- just someone trying to get by without ripping some poor soul to shreds.  Rain beat repetitively against the windowpane of his apartment, the view of the city blurred against the droplets that smeared the glass. It looked like a painting-- true beauty if he had ever seen it and it was mornings like these that eased the Werewolf.

       And then a melody of the doorbell, and the ease slipped away... heart rate picked up-- blood rushing. Jackson wanders towards the door slowly, a familiar scent reaching his nose and getting stronger with every step he took. Without much hesitation, the Omega turns the door handle and pulls it open, blue hues setting themselves upon a face he hadn’t seen in awhile--- and was actually hoping he wouldn’t. A hiss reverberates in his the back of his  throat, harsh memories of everything that happened in Beacon Hills resurfacing.                  “What are you doing here?”

It’s always raining.. || Jackson & Stiles

@fxxtballsajoke

You know what I based this on. Hearteyes. 

Stiles had gone to the one adult that night, that he could still trust. Despite everything, or maybe because of it, Melissa McCall was an angel stranded on earth, and after crying himself sick for a whole night, he stands in front of her door the next morning. 

“I cant do it anymore. “ He says, and she hugs him, and for a moment he thinks that things might be alright. They talk for a long time. Never does she ask what really happened, or doubt any of his words, although he never tells her the reason for the fight. He is too afraid of more rejection. She tells him that she will look after his father, and that Scott has dug his own grave. She doesn’t try to defend her son, but doesn’t curse him for it either. She knows Scott has his reasons, no matter how idiotic they might seem to others. Deep down she knows she raised a good boy. 

Then she tells him to leave. Because he wants it, he has said so inbetween, and when he asks why, she shrugs, and says that she will be there when he comes back. She would have been more concerned, but by now she knows Stiles can take care of himself, and he doesn’t want her to make his decisions, he just wanted someone who didn’t push him away right away. 

And, she thinks, as he sees him leave, looking determined and like his world ended at the same, all he really wanted from her was that she looked after his Dad. 

It’s seven in the morning when Stiles finally arrives in front of Jackson’s apartment. The trip had taken too long, he had not slept at all during it, and fought a panic attack every few minutes. None of that had been fun. And he cant even really say what he is doing here, besides the fact that Jackson has been a constant in his life since they were five, and that all other people he knows outside of Beacon Hills are not in the know, or somewhere in the depths of South America.

This is really all he has, and he rings the doorbell with lead in his stomach, trying hard not to think about what he would do if Jackson sent him away too. 

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

so im not gonna explain myself except that i need a frest start. i’ll keep a few select storylines and will be messaging each person individually about that. feel free to follow me here

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

so im not gonna explain myself except that i need a frest start. i’ll keep a few select storylines and will be messaging each person individually about that. feel free to follow me here

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

yo, i know i haven’t been around, but schools been a little busy. but i’m gonna be on here for a little why and get some stuff organized and make a list of owes and all that jaz. discord is always open to those who don’t have it and who are mutuals. a little easier to contact me, but i’m gonna try and at least get on a couple times a week to remain active. sorry, ya’ll.

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

“Okay. Hi! My name is Keahu Kahuanui.”

I STARTED A VLOG! FIRST ONE.

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

REBLOG if you have amazing, talented WRITER friends.

Because I certainly do, and I love every single one of them and their work.

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

I feel as though only a handful of people are even interested in writing with me and jackson and actually forming connections and SL's , which I mean is okay, I realize Jackson (and even some people can say colton) are problematic characters and no one should feel forced to interact with anyone. I love this character dearly and I couldn't imagine getting rid of him but there are a few people who only hit me up to write with my character when theyre in 'the mood', never really interested in anything except smutty storylines or whenever they find convenient. Honestly, I'm not a very talented writer and I've done my fair share of smut and half assed storywriting within the community but id also like to only write with people who see my worth as a person and writer and if you only want smutty ass storylines with no depth, no drama, angst, fluff and everything in between, you can just stay the fuck off my blog. And if you're just gonna drop every thread we have together because you become uninterested, feel free to unfollow me. Anyway, thanks for coming to my T ed talk.

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

     Jackson’s body stiffens against the other, tendrils curling tighter around Amo’s hand and eyebrows knitting close together with concern. The god had never shown a moment of weakness--- this was a first and it worried the wolf. “You’re being vague.” He wanted more information-- he needed it in order to know how to help the other. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, alright. Who’s after you, Amos?”

The Darkness leans into Jackson’s hand and just lets out a tired, human sigh. Even the way he smelled was different. His head turns a bit and he kisses the other’s palm gently. “Somethings happened.” he murmurs softly. “Not sure yet… but I might be losing this fight faster than I thought…” He just looks so human. Amos looks at Jackson. “They might find me… and I might be human again… and I’d forget everything.” he closes his eyes.

@fxxtballsajoke [X]

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

"Jackson." the god lets out a long breath. "I'm going to level with you...." there are noticeably dark rings under his eyes. "I'm not doing so good." [ letmebeyovrkillerking ]

      He sits up from bed, feet swinging over the edge so he could stand up and approach Amos, a hand instantly finding his cheek to cup it. “What do you mean?” The god couldn’t get sick— the was impossible wasn’t it? “Amos… what’s wrong?”

@playerentity

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

bonewardhound·:

The comment regarding his unfriendly demeanour is hardly any form of news to Aiden. He has become aware of how unpleasant he can be when approached by Jackson, Scott or any of the others; often preferring a blunt - if not overtly callous - method of dealing with them rather than granting them any show of warmth. He got in the car with Jackson, that should be enough to show he doesn’t completely dislike him. “Don’t give me fashion advice when you look like you fell out of an Abercrombie & Bitch catalogue.” He has to hide a smile, partially because of his own joke and because of Jackson’s sudden, barely prompted suggestion. “That’s… really fucking dumb, man.” 

   Abercrombie & Bitch-- well, he’d let him have that one, it seemed to be one of his better insults at least and Jackson was only growing more accustomed to Aiden's berating comments--- then again, he could take what he dished out after all. “Better than looking like I just came out of the trash-can behind the goodwill,” he retorts quickly, eyes lingering on Aiden’s attire--- give me one day, just one hour even... “And yeah, it is dumb. But I figured you’d spend it on food--- crappy cheap food, if anything.”

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

bonewardhound·:

He takes a brief glance out the window and watches the tarmac speed right by. The injuries from jumping out of the moving vehicle wouldn’t last long, but he doesn’t enjoy the idea of breaking a few bones and bruising up his body just to avoid spending time with a more aware Jackass. He can deal with Jackass just fine when it comes down to it.

“Fuckin’ Ethan,” he mutters to himself, turning his attention back to the stretch of road sitting before them. The lack of celebrations is a small comfort, but he makes a note to terrorise his brother later if given the chance. “I don’t need to milk it. And I don’t want your money.”

     “You know, you’re not a lot of fun,” he says glancing over at him, smirk finally fading, but still half joking. Aiden had his his moments-- that he couldn’t deny, though the moments were rare. “It’s not a hand out for the poor, though, your clothing choice screams “the needy” but it’d just be for your birthday. Don’t you want to blow free birthday money on something stupid... like-- uh,” He shrugs, shifting the gears once more to slow down this time, figuring he should. “all-you-can-eat-shrimp at Red Lobster?” 

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

     He shifts into fifth gear, accelerating so even if Aiden thought about escaping the situation--- at least it’d hurt. Not like Jackson wanted to get into personal details like birthdates and such, them both having a strange relationship as is, but a birthday was a birthday, whether the other wanted to ignore it completely or not.          “You know exactly who told me,” he quips, eyes flickering back to the road ahead. “Don’t have a melt down, I didn’t get you a cake or throw you a party. Ethan said you’re not much for celebrations--- or fun of any kind.” He bites back another smile, eyebrows raising. “Though, I'd recommend milking it-- I gave your brother fifty-bucks.”

Closed birthday starter for @fxxtballsajoke​.

Aiden suddenly jerks upright in the Porsche’s passenger seat when he hears those two dreaded words drip from Jackson’s smirking lips. Happy Birthday. Of course Jackson waits until now to say something, effectively trapping Aiden in a moving vehicle as not even he would have the balls to open the car door and jump out just to leave.

“Who the fuck told you, Whittemore?” Aiden growls, glaring daggers. He personally doesn’t make a habit of telling others about his birth date - though sometimes it’s tempting to so he can get a free meal at a diner or restaurant - but he knows Ethan has a much looser tongue.

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

i have hella multi-paragraph responses in my drafts and god bless them, but damn. i’ll try to be here more often so they won’t die cause i love the storylines i have coming up

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

lilmisslydiamartin:

A gasp escaped her at the touch of his tongue to bare skin, and holy hell, what was she talking about two seconds ago? Right, sex tape, so tacky. Very tacky. She would have to make absurd moans, like she was enjoying herself, and then she would have to carefully hide naked parts of her body, because there was no way she would let her professional and educational aspirations be colored by images of her naked body on the internet - far too much work. A waste of time, really.

Leaning forward, Lydia didn’t even answer him - her mouth went to his throat, pushing the collar of his shirt down slightly as she sucked at the skin there. Some of her lipstick had probably gotten on the fabric, but wasn’t that the point? She nipped at the vein, and sucked on the spot again, attempting to leave a twin mark to whatever he had done to her.

“Continue on here for a few more… We should look practically debauched by the time we stumble out of here.” That’s right, she should just act as though this was all for show to him, even though to the rest of the world, this had to look real… and she was really enjoying it, in truth. “Hair messed up, clothes pulled at… no one would expect me to be foolish enough to dance with you in public, but if people catch us kissing and grabbing at each other as we go to leave…”

   Jackson cranes his neck to the side, allowing her lips to violate his skin as if this was some kind of sin. It was of course, in their world. He wasn’t suppose to be caught dead with a Martin. They were the enemy. They were too powerful for the likes of the Whittemores and they threatened the territory they held so dear to their hearts. It was all a game though--- something Jackson thought was futile. They could all be ruling this city together if they wanted, they could be stronger. But he supposed there were reasons he couldn’t understand and while he would stand by his father no matter what (or so he thought), he also didn’t see the harm in having a little fun either.     “Well, I’m pretty sure the rumors are pouring out right about now.” Surely, someone besides the body guards and staff had to have seen them close the room off privately for their own use. Surely, there were already whispers over the bellowed electronic music that played just outside the door.      Jackson’s hands wander back up her fine physique, gripping when he found bare skin at the middle of her back. “Let’s start with me buying you a drink. You can be aloof, at least until I pull you out onto that dance floor.”

[fxxtballsajoke-blog]

    Jackson groans impatiently, shoulders slumping and head dipping to look at the ground. Making her frustrated made him frustrated because it seemed like anything he said was provoking her in some way and the intention was to do the opposite. “Listen-- I’m not going anywhere unless you literally throw me out of your house... or your dad comes home. Then I’ll gladly climb out the window.” Not that he was, per say, afraid of Sheriff Stilinski, but the poor guy was still under the assumption that they hated one another--- they would never cuddle or screw each other’s brains out.            “You’re getting mad at me for no reason--- I came over to be with you.”