#is this the reason why I'm unemployed now?

[hekin-pnk]

[03/03/21] "no encores"

I was supposed to be working but made this instead. Guess my motivation is at it's best when I'm either at school or work (motivation for art, that is)

I also made stickers of this - didn't distribute any of them though. Might be once day but sometimes happiness lies in cradling merchandise in your arms - merchandise you made all by yourself!

[halogalopaghost]

[theflyingfeeling]

stupid stupid stupid stupid I am so fucking stupid

(LONG rant in the tags. originally a little longer still but apparently there were too many tags so tumblr deleted the rest lol)

[jamescarstairs]

new year same rant: i don't think i will ever be able to forgive my parents & the rest of my family for how they treated me when i was unemployed compared to how they now treat my brother

[the-everqueen]

desperately hopeful that today (a week after interview) will be the day i find out whether or not i got the postdoc

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my mom I don't like it when she slaps my ass? potential tw

so I (22 trans m) currently live with my mom (65), and I've always had issues with how she interacts with my body. today she woke me up to try on a pair of pants I bought yesterday before she washed them, and I asked her if she could stop staring at me while I took my pajama pants off to try on the jeans. she pushed back and laughed it off saying it didn't matter, so I had to change in front of her cause she refused to leave the room. this has happened many times before where she insists on watching me change, even when I'm completely naked, despite me asking her not to.

I put the pants on and she immediately comes over to inspect how they fit for herself, tugging on the waistband and looking them over, then promptly slaps my ass. I immediately recoil and tell her I didn't like it and I want her to stop, and she scoffs and rolls her eyes at the suggestion. I tell her it's weird because we've had this conversation before since her slapping my ass is a frequent occurrence, and like usual, she insists there's nothing weird about it because she's my mother and she isn't doing it to be sexual. when she does this, she usually says, "I birthed that ass, so I'm allowed to slap that ass if I want to." I tried to tell her that I'n an adult and I should be allowed to tell her when I don't like something she does to me, and I was visibly pissed off and kicked her out of my room to go back to bed.

I could hear her in the other room walking around saying loudly, "ohh, so I'M aaaaalways the problem. I'm the problem, of course," in like a mocking tone because she clearly thinks I'm in the wrong. I know she's an asshole for a lot of other reasons (she's pretty transphobic and doesn't respect my name, pronouns, or that I'm on hormones, and she frequently takes out her anger issues on me by yelling at me if I even look at her wrong when she's mad), but this one has been bothering me a lot since I moved back home after college (I'm also unemployed and wouldn't be able to move out for a while despite already wanting to get away from her)

for further context, she's always had a specific way of interacting with my body that I think is weird but she refuses to see it. she insisted on personally bathing me into middle school, then continued to say that I needed her help to shower correctly even up to now, so she frequently walks into my bathroom or bedroom when I'm entirely naked and will look my body over and I'm not a fan of it. she also still tries to force her way into changing rooms if we go shopping together so that she can have the final say in how I look in clothes, and she never even wants to turn around or wait outside while I strip.

I've tried to get her to stop before but she keeps doing it, insisting that she's my mother so she's allowed to, even though I'm an adult who hasn't lived with her for the past four years and is very autonomous, so it's not like she still does everything for me. she also pushes back and says that if I think it's weird then it must mean I've been assaulted before and that's why I don't like it when she touches me. I'm also autistic and don't like frequent hugs or any kind of touching and she doesn't like it when I tell her to stop doing that too, but her slapping my ass and insisting on seeing me naked is the stuff that really bothers me, the rest I tolerate just so I don't have to argue with her all the time.

I've asked friends before if they think it's weird she does this, but she's so insistent that she should be able to touch me whenever and however she wants just because she's my mom and that she can look at me naked because she birthed me and has seen me naked before, so why is it different now that I'm a full on adult. I honestly don't know who's in the wrong for this specific thing and if I'm over exaggerating like my mom says I am, but I'm so sick of her touching me when I tell her not to that I needed to poll answers, so:

am I the asshole for telling my mom to stop slapping my ass and insisting on looking at me while I'm naked despite being an adult and asking her not to?

[monkeytrick]

I've been putting off making this for a bit bc it straight up sucks to be doing this twice in succession but, in short --

I moved from Wisconsin to Alabama earlier this year to stay with my dad, and now I'm preparing to move back to Wisconsin on my own. I've had to help pay the bills for both my dad in AL and my mom in WI since I moved here, and to make things worse, my dad has been unemployed the entire time I've been living with him, and I recently caught my mom full on lying about needing me to give her money for bills before using it on a concert ticket lol. In addition to all this, I recently had a pretty expensive medical treatment for an abcess which in turn made it so I had to quit my job a bit earlier than expected. Generally not good or fun, especially when winter is approaching and time is of the essence regarding a move up north.

I've been planning to move back out for about two months beforehand bc on top of everything my living situation is like, legitimately very unsafe for reasons I'd rather not get into (I can discuss it in private if you'd feel weird giving me money without knowing details but yknow) and I'm also in an INCREDIBLY rural area rn compared to my town in Wisconsin which is full of people I know who have been willing to help me out. Hence why I'm heading all the way back there instead of just fucking off somewhere else in AL.

Thank you to everyone who helped me out the first time I had to ask for moving help and I'm incredibly sorry I have to do it again. I will say that I have things planned out much more thoroughly than I did the first time I made a post like this and I also have pretty much everything on my side except for money lol. As always, if you want me to draw a little cartoon for you or write a stupid little poem or do anything to make you feel like you're getting your money's worth PLEASE let me know and I'll make it so.

(^Very small simple examples of stuff I draw IF you have any interest) Otherwise:

PP: @deankyfun VM: @deankyfun $App: $DeankyFun

My tentative goal is $1,500. Will reply to this post once a week with the date and how much I've received. Thank you so much if you're able to help seriously love you all

[junktastic]

I had a drawing months back that went kinda viral I guess, and it getting out of my normal sphere of followers meant that I got to observe how folks far outside of my twitter sphere interact with twitter and others. For reference, I am talking about this image:

The context, besides getting to draw my friend Jenny, was that I saw a picture that was of an anime girl that said "lets be in our early 30s together" and I was like "haha, I will make my own version of this." Part of it was also that I think aging is fine, and we need to stop stressing so much over staying young. "Lets be in our mid-thirties together" is not a joke, I sincerely wanted this image to be warm and inviting, to maybe give people hope that there will be friends and people who love you once you get to that age. I never thought I was going to make it to 30, and I just turned 35 this year, and I'm the happiest I've ever been.

Some responses were obviously teens/early 20s people saying they don't want to get that old, which is whatever. When you're that young the dirty thirty sounds so ugly. No one cool is in their 30s! Well, if you ignore the people who make all the things they like. These responses I waved these off.

I saw the typical twitter experience replies of "this doesn't apply to me?" Ok bitch! Go make your own like I did! And show me when you do, I'd love to see it!

There was a handful of people who were saying "retweet to scare a twink" which I felt was kind of rude. Not to me, but to the twinks out there. Aging doesn't make you less of a twink.

Lots of people were sending it to their significant others or saying they hope to find someone to be in their mid-thirties with, which I love. :3 It makes me happy!

The one kind of response which is what I made this post for and I'm so sorry that I've been rambling, that I found weird was the people who will reply to just you. The OP. As if they are replying to everyone in the thread. I'm not talking about in QRTs, just straight in the replies. "Don't forget how tired she looks in this." Brother I drew the picture. I know. And ever since then I feel like, as someone who loves to read the replies on other people's tweets, I notice this a lot more often. Who are they talking to? Is this what people are referring to when they say "Main Character Syndrome?" Or should I be lumping these together with the "why isn't this about my exact personal life situation" people?

My fiancé says I'm thinking about this too hard (I got engaged last month btw), and he's probably right. I can't help but be curious about how other people choose to interact with the internet and images and people on it. And, I guess, am I supposed to reply? How should I feel about these. I guess I have to decide that on my own.

For the record, you are all very normal/understandable when it comes to what you guys tag my stuff with. That you love the girls (same!), that they're very gender (love this), or wow is this [insert fetish](not my intention but that's the internet). I feel like the slime girls get the "gender" comment the most and you are all so right for that. Every time I see people reblog my ocs I think "Thank you for loving [name]."

That's all! This was a pointless post but I'm unemployed right now so I have too much time to overthink things for no reason. How do YOU feel about how people interact with your posts? Are they weird? Or are they normal about it.

[iiotic]

You have my heart | chapter 2

Human! Alastor x Fem! Reader

❥︎ You have my heart | Navigation

Prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3..

❥︎ word count - 1.1k

please read the tws before reading this story!! You may find them in the navigation.

You looked up at the man before you. A charming gentleman with brown hair and caramel eyes. Putting your purse down, you decided to respond to his ridiculous question.

- Leaving, and who might you be? - You questioned him as you stood up, only to realise that he was much more taller than you.

- Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you miss..? - He extended his hand for, you thought, a handshake. As you gave him your hand, you were surprised by him kissing your knuckles.

- Charmed - You said, before introducing yourself. You truly didn't want to engage in any small talks nor conversation. You were so tired of this day after your "future husband" didn't even show up. You just wanted to go to bed and take a nap after a hard day.

You tried to excuse yourself from the situation, saying that your cat is home alone, begging for some affection.

- Nonsense, my dear! I assure you cats are very smart creatures and they can take care of themself. - Alastor assured you. Pointing to the table he added. - Would you like to sit down for a nice talk? the dinner is my treat.

You looked out of the window at the chauffeur waiting for you for hours by now, considering his offer. You didn't want to come back home, nor did you want to explain to your arrogant mother that the man didn't show up. However you were so tired and didn't want to stay awake any more minutes. But how are you suppose to find your true love if you didn't talk to anyone?

You sat down at the table, as Alastor did the same beside you. What were his intentions? You didn't know. You couldn't help but to glare at him, yet he still looked so comfortable and calm in his seat.

As he asked you what would you like, you answered harshly unintentionally. The atmosphere seemed tense, as the restaurant was filled with mostly silence. Most of the people already left, leaving you witt just a few people left waiting, not including staff.

You tried so hard to interact with the man before you, but the little voice in your head told you not to, for some strange reasons. Looking out of the window, once again, seeing countless cars and people walking. Pheraps some just went for a walk and others just came back from work? Maybe some of them just got groceries, maybe some of them are going to a important event. Your thoughts were interrupted with a sudden cough.

- Sorry, what were you saying? - You asked hurriedly, seemingly embarrassed by the whole situation. You hadn't had a normal interaction in a while.

- I'd like to apologize for being so pushy earlier, however i wish to get to know you. - He said with his signature smile. Before you could respond your food was delivered by the same young woman. 'Bon appetite' she said before running away.

- If you don't mind me asking, where do you work at? As far as I know the clothes that you're wearing aren't exactly cheap. - He asked, looking up from his now fresh food. - Before you ask "why? ". I'm asking out of curiosity.

You didn't know what to say, you were so embarrassed. You decided to try to dodge his question.

- I accept your apologies for being so "pushy" as you said. And also i don't mind you asking any questions, that's how conversations work, don't they? - You jokingly-asked trying to lighten the mood and make him forget about his question.

Alastor didn't respond, waiting for you to say something, his eyes saying everything. He relaxed a bit after hearing you sigh and finally answer his question.

- If you really must know, I don't work anywhere. - You mumbled quickly, as another sigh of relief could be heard from you. You were so reliefed that you already said it.

- I'm sorry, dear? I didn't quite catch that.

Shit. You truly didn't want him to know that you were unemployed. What would he think of you? When you said it the first time you didn't think correctly. What were you doing? You didn't know but before you acknowledged what you were doing it already slipped.

- I am an medical secretary. - You lied but didn't know what the fuck is a medical secretary. - It's a truly exhausting job if you'd ask me. Where do you work at? - You asked nervously before he could any more question about the job.

- Well, dear i thought you figured out who I am? - he chuckled slightly but when he say the look of confusion on your face he got a bit confused himself. - I am the radio host.

- I'm sorry the Radio host? - You questioned him being confused by his big ego. Frustrated, even.

- I'm sorry, so bold of me. - He fixed his composure. - I'm a radio host, just a radio host.

He was so reliefed that you didn't hear about him. So reliefed that you're not a psycho fan of his.

You thought it was an pretty easy yet exciting job. Sharing your thoughts about his job to him you were interrupted by someone walking in. Your chauffeur. You knew that you weren't the only one tired of waiting. You had to think of an plan quickly. You didn't think that medical secretary makes that much money. But it was too late he was already standing beside your table.

- Ma'am your mother told me that we need to get going now. - Your chauffeur said. Cursing under your breath, you decided to improvise. Just as you were about to say that you didn't know who he was. Alastor interrupted.

- Dear, you didn't say that you had a husband. - But you didnt? You looked at him like a deer at the headline, before fully understanding what he said. Now you had a plan. You stood up from your seat, excusing yourself, standing next to your chauffeur.

- I don't, yet. This is my boyfriend..uh.. - You looked at the chauffeur, trying to remember his name but failing miserably. - yes.

You saw the look of confusion in your chauffeurs eye, not wanting to look at him, you nooded at him to play along. Unfortunately for you, he didn't understand.

- I'm not sure you heard me correctly. Your dad ask- The chauffeur was interrupted by Alastor this time.

- I didn't know you had a boyfriend. - Alastor said glaring at the poor chauffeur.

- Because I don't! - You said after you realized that it was a terrible idea. Your hands sweaty from the whole situation. - This is my dad!

- Your dad? - They both asked confused at the same time. You were in a truly terrible situation. You didn't know what to say so you just nodded and tried to see what will happen next.

However despise your best effort to stay, you stormed out of stress, feeling the tears in your eyes. Gosh, why did you have to be so embarrassing?

Sitting in the car, you tried your best to not burst into tears. Your chauffeur soon following you and driving you home. It was too much for you. You just wanted to be normal, to have a healthy marriage, to love.

Is it that hard?

TAGLIST

@cherry-cola-100 @alastorssimp @cyganep @mutifandomkid @happytacojudgepalace @spirit-of-the-hollow @phisen

[hollygracesworld]

My Man | (Patrick Wilson x Female Reader)

ONESHOOT. Warning : smut, unprotected sex, Reader is a mistress, Reader is younger (around 25 y.o)

➡️ masterlist

“Please calm down...” you said while calming the baby you were holding. To be honest, you actually like babies, you even dream of having a cute baby when you have a family someday. But for more than 3 months now you have been taking care of your aunt’s baby who cries very often and peed his pants, making you think twice again about having your own baby.

You replaced the pants he was wearing, and calmed him down. The baby’s eyes were big and blue, “So gorgeous.” You said in a low voice. Instantly the baby stopped crying. You grabbed the still warm bottle of milk and gave it to the baby. The baby quickly fell asleep in your arms while he was drinking his milk.

You heard the sound of the doorbell. You immediately get up from the sofa, put Vera Farmiga's baby gently in the baby box, you walked over to the door, then you open it.

“Oh, hi Y/N!” Vera said with a big smile, hugging you tightly, her husband from behind walked ahead of her to put some things away, “I’m so sorry because I left this house for 2 days, and thank you so much for take care of him while I wasn’t here. I'm really busy… I don't even sleep enough…”

“Don’t worry, I understand. You are an actress, I understand you are very busy with filming, etc. I’m the one that should be thankful, Aunt Vera… because you gave me this job when you knew that I'm literally unemployed after graduating from college.” You said as you walked with your aunt towards the living room.

Vera smiled at you, then she approached her baby, "You should have a bright future, Y/N. You can’t be a nanny for my baby forever.”

“No problem…besides, I’m happy to help you. After all, you are my only family in this city, I feel the need to help you, considering that you have been paying for my sister's school fees.” you said, sitting next to Vera.

“You’re a good kid, Y/N. You know, I have acquaintances to help you start your career, you know…” Vera said with a smile that signaled something to you.

“No, I can't...” you said softly refusing while lowering your head.

“Why not? You're still young, it's not too late if you want to have a career in acting.” Vera grabbed your shoulder, “I’m not forcing you, but I think you should think about it if you’re interested.”

“No, but thank you, aunt Vera,” you said while smiling faintly. This is not without reason, you cannot accept the job, it is very risky.

Not because you are shy or doubt your abilities. To be honest, you could do all the work, because of your enterprising nature and totality in doing a job... but you can't let yourself to be an actress.

You are Patrick Wilson’s only mistress. Yes, he is Vera's co-worker. The Conjuring universe films- which they starred, were certainly successful.

This whole affair started 5 years ago. When your aunt Vera took you to the premiere of the film Anabelle Comes Home. That’s where you first met Patrick Wilson. Of course you didn’t become his mistress at that time, but you guys have shown interest, by looking at each other. However, Patrick was reluctant to talk more closely with you considering that you were Vera's nephew, and at that time you were still around 20 years old.

A few months after that, you met him at a bar. You, who was very drunk at that time, seduced Patrick and you two had sex afterwards. You swore that you would never fuck with someone else’s husband again, even though Patrick had a big-hard cock, and he fucked you really good that night. but you still feel guilty and try not to see him again.

But fate says otherwise, you meet him again in random places. When he was exercising, you saw his shirtless body, he was sweaty and sexy. And yes for the second time, he fucked you in the warehouse where you worked part-time while you were still in college.

He inserted his hard-wet cock to your pussy, mixed with the sweat on his body. But that’s not the end of it.

Since then, Patrick bought another phone specifically to contact you. He knows that if he uses the phone he usually uses, his wife will always check and of course that won’t make your affair last for more than 4 years.

That night Vera offered to stay at her house for the night considering that it was already late. But you politely refused, because you felt uncomfortable staying overnight at your aunt’s house again.

You walked through the night carrying your tote bag and wearing a thick scarf around your neck. The distance between Vera's house and your apartment is not too far, maybe because you prefer walking rather than taking public transportation, so you don’t have a problem walking for 30 minutes.

When you arrived at your apartment and opened the door to your room, you were surprised to see who was currently in your bedroom.

You saw Patrick still wearing his formal suit, he was standing beside the bed, staring at you sharply as if he was going to devour you right there.

“I left my wife and kids at home to see you tonight. I can't sleep, I can't work professionally, I’m a mess, I keep thinking about you.”

When you were about to reply to his words, Patrick quickly walked over to you, “I hope it’s all worth it. What’s inside me is like there’s no sign of life when we haven’t met, when I haven’t fuck you so hard.”

You and Patrick haven’t seen each other for the last 2 weeks because he was busy with work and spending time with his family. But what you see is the unhappiness shown on his face.

You were everything to Patrick, apart from sex. He really loves you, now that’s the problem. You both truly love each other. It wasn’t fair to his wife, but you couldn’t do anything, you were weak towards Patrick, you felt that you would be like this forever.

You dropped your tote bag on the floor, grabbed Patrick’s face and you two kissed. Patrick removed the scarf that was around your neck, he continued to kiss you as he carried you and placed you on the soft and comfortable bed.

Patrick took off his suit and tie with a rough movement. He kissed you aggressively and intensely. You kissed Patrick while holding his chest, then he removed his lips from yours, and opened your clothes and skirt.

Patrick kissed your neck hungrily, he cupped your breasts, “I love the color,” Patrick whispered as he rubbed your lacy red bra, “but I would rather see you completely naked.” Patrick took off your bra, then your panties.

Patrick licks your nipples while inserting his big-hard cock into your vagina.

You moaned as he started to fuck you on top. This time without foreplay, he fucks you so roughly and fast. “I've been waiting for this for a long time, you know that, slut?” said Patrick in a breathless voice.

You can feel, he’s already come in your vagina, but he doesn't remove his hard-cock from your vagina at all, he’s continues to fuck you.

He grabbed both of your legs then lifted your legs up, while speeding up his movements from before.

Patrick fucked harder while you moaning out loud. He kissed your thigh where your leg was now on his shoulder, “Fuck Y/N. I can’t let you sleep until morning.”

You can feel your bed sheets starting to get wet. you screamed, “Patrick…. I was a virgin before you fucked me the first time.” you said, which somehow came out of your mouth in the middle of your climax.

“I didn't know that." Patrick said then he kissed your neck very aggressively and bit your neck.

“…and I've never fucked anyone but you." you said while groaning in pain.

“I should’ve realized that." Patrick said then the two of you come together. But Patrick come inside. This is something he has never done before to you, because he doesn’t want to get you pregnant.

But hearing that you’re a virgin who has never fucked a man other than himself, it makes Patrick release a lot of sperm inside you.

“Forgive me,” Patrick whispered in your ear, he hugged your body and kissed your cheek gently.

“It’s okay Patrick, I can take the pills,” you said, touching Patrick's hair.

“I won’t force you to do that, Y/N,” Patrick replied, he looked at your face seriously, “I know you work as Vera’s babysitter all this time, I know you don’t have the heart to do it.”

You just stay silent. Honestly, what Patrick said is true, you are a typical woman who has a motherly heart, you wouldn’t have the heart to abort your pregnancy if you have Patrick’s baby.

“Hey, it’s up to you, okay, I don't want to burden you, you’re everything to me,” said Patrick looking at your worried face, “If you want to have the baby, I'll be responsible.”

“What responsibility? You will secretly support me and my child while you are still taking care of your child and your wife?”

“No...” Patrick lowered his head, “I haven't told you, have I?”

You don’t understand what he means.

“You haven't checked the news for the past 2 weeks?”Patrick asked then you shook your head, “I divorced my wife for you. We agreed to keep the reasons for our divorce a secret from the public, even though she initially didn't agree. Child custody is in her hands, we can start our relationship from the beginning.”

You smiled at his statement, then you two kissed in the middle of the sparkling night.

You know your relationship might surprise many people, but you are ready to face it all with Patrick by your side.

He’s your man now. Yours.

[sataara]

Hey, I'm still in need of help, I don't have enough money to pay my bills this month. Since I didn't have money last month to buy groceries I had to use a pay later thing, so my brother and I could eat, but after paying that and the fees that come with it, there's nothing left to pay for everything else. Please, if you have anything to spare, I'll be extremely grateful. I'll leave an explanation for my current situation under the cut

Here's my kofi

I'll try to be brief, at the end of 2021 I had to move out from my old house bc of black mold, a friend was living with me at the time and I also live with my brother who's disabled at the moment and trying to find a job with little success. We found a nice apartment and decided to move in but my then roommate had a bunch of isssues from being extremely uncharitable towards my brother, who like I said, it's trying to treat his disorders and debilitating depression to be able to work again, to stuff with a guy who we didn't want around the house, and so after a few messy talks, in march 2022, she moved out, leaving me to pay for rent by myself, something she KNEW I couldn't do with my current salary. On that same year I had issues paying one of the apartment complex fees and we've been two months behind on that since. My brother tried getting a job earlier this year, it didn't work out and only made things worse. So basically here we are now, he is still unemployed, our family is either too poor or won't outright help us at all, neither of us has a father and our mother is actually the reason why my brother has severe depression in the first place. So yeah, this is extremely messy, also this month, bc of how my insurance works, I had a 200+ reais subtracted from my salary, just to help out (sarcasm).

[the-mic-drop]

I'm newly unemployed, it's 2 in the morning, but who gives an ass, cuz it's time for more ZELINK SHIT, SLUTS!

Again TotK spoilers under the cut. (I feel like it's been long enough, but just in case)

So in my last Zelink post, I said why I believed Zelda and Link were the only people in Hyrule who were unaware that they were dating despite sleeping in the same bed. Well now I'm going to paint a word picture for you about that last bit. The bed bit.

So, immediately after BotW, I imagine the first major settlement Link took Zelda was Kakariko. Catch up with Impa, meet Paya, talk rough rebuilding plans, the usual. Then Link talks to Impa and kinda puts his foot down.

"She needs a home right now. Decompress. Enjoy the light of day. Sleep."

Impa signs off on it, Link brings Zelda to Hateno, shows her his house (notably never calls it "his",) they have their moment when she sees the Champions' weapons and the photo, and they settle in for the first night. Zelda looks at the bed and goes "So... Umm..." But Link tells her he's got a mattress set up under the stairs for himself. She goes "Ah, I see." She's disappointed, and simultaneously doesn't know why and totally knows why. They say goodnight and they each listen to the faint sound of the other breathing until they fall asleep. (Zelda falls asleep first.)

Time passes, they go on journeys, maybe return a Champion weapon, maybe check out a Divine Beast, etc. Then one night comes, the loneliness and distance and sadness become too much. Link says goodnight, but Zelda stops him. She asks him quietly but firmly to sleep in her bed tonight. Link is hesitant, but Zelda firmly pleads her case and Link is incapable of denying her request.

She makes room for him, he cautiously climbs in and they get settled in. Zelda's the one to initiate contact, but no spooning or anything, just resting against him. No words are exchanged as they're each just thinking real hard about their situation. Sleep eventually comes.

The next morning, Link wakes up first to find that they've snuggled up with each other quite comfortably. He can't stop staring at her peacefully sleeping face. When he notices her starting to wake up, he pretends to be asleep for some reason he can't figure out. She gasps audibly and briefly panics before remembering what happened. He "wakes up" the two start the day only slightly less awkwardly than expected.

The next night, it's already part of their routine. The awkwardness fades quickly. However, as I said before, there's no romantic progress made. To them, there's nothing to see here, just a princess and her chosen knight sleeping in the same house, in the same twin-sized bed. Totally normal. Yep.

[aristotlecoyote]

i'm sorry you aren't able to pay for watcher's new service. it was a tough decision for me too - i'm unemployed right now and had to look at my savings and decide to skip on buying a few things - but in the end i chose to support them. there are fans sharing accounts and gifting subs. some people in the fandom want to help with solutions but you can't hear them over everyone blaming watcher for suddenly being in the 1% somehow?? (they're not) this is still in beta mode so we all need to take a breath and see what they announce after seeing the feedback. but watcher didn't ruin the economy and make it so hard for people to get welfare and help - you need to contact some government officials for that - not shane's wife

You are fundimentally missing the point. And why are you feeding a problem when they have clearly show they dont respect their fans with their silence, and their employees and spouses snide comments.

The watcher hate train that you think is clouding my thoughts simply isnt. I look at other fans to see if i my perception is more then just automatic frustration. And its not. I think alot. I get heated when i feel theres injustice. But i think through every single thing in this situation for flaws in my own logic because i know people like you will say i am blowing out of proportion. dont patronize me with those arguements.

Yeah governement stuff isnt their fault but they know where the world is. Or atleast they should and they are choosing to bleeding their fans dry. I never said they were the 1% but they are rich. Being rich doesnt automatically put you in the 1 percent but it does give you a leg up to being safe.

I took a breath. I took a whole breath today and lived my life on an extremely small trip on a train. To get free samples from an event with a discounted ticket. I bought a single nice thing that i wanted and for the first time in three days i didnt think about this shit show.

I wanted to support them but seeing as they dont care that they are making

1. A bad decision that everyone except people like you can see

2. Using a base platform that is notoriously unfriendly to creators

3. Didnt respect their fans enough to do market research and give us a finished product or a timeline for things moving forward

4. Act like they are drowning while they are on a yacht. And show that yacht to the people they kicked out of a lifeboat. Then blame us for needing to get a slightly smaller yacht. (This is an analogy)

Its not the same.

3 shows i like is not worth. 6 dollars.

I dont want Sara rubin's fucking help. I am saying she is showing the reality. That these people dont care. Its a common fact of todays world that very few youtubers actually care. That you giving them 6 dollars for a thing that has never worked in the long term unless years of effort and research is put into it. And you are on unemployment? I dont know.

You are the ones that dont see the reality.

But like i said in my post. I respect that humans can do whatever they want. I just think you should think and ask questions and when you dont get clear answers. Wonder why.

All of this mess is something you need to watch before you jump.

I simply chose to step away from the cliff because i saw sharks in the water.

EDIT: some parts in this feel unfinished. I am tired and working on very little sleep because of how my brain has chosen to process this situation. I wont update this post with corrections unless someone can give me a hard reason to.

[xoxoavenger]

I Wish You Would

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

summary: You say it's in the past And drive straight ahead You think I'm gonna hate you now 'Cause you still don't know what I never said

word count: 2819

warnings: alcoholism, cheating (minor)

1989 masterlist main masterlist

JJ isn't quite sure why he goes this way to the Chateau.

There's a faster way. It's already really early in the morning, and he's exhausted from work. But he can't bring himself to avoid this road, no matter how much it hurts every single day.

It's probably the the fact that every time he drives by, he can only think of good memories.

"Hey!" A girl calls from her window on the second floor. She's leaning on the sill, her hair fluttering in the wind as she smiles. He puts his hand up to shade his eyes as he releases the lawn mower, causing it to turn off.

"What?" He yells, taking in her face. The first thing he notices is her eyes, glittering in the sun. The second is her smile, practically blinding him.

"What's your name?" She asks, tucking some hair behind her ear.

"JJ!" He tells her, brows furrowed. His eyes are still squinted, because he forgot his sunglasses at his house and he's terrified of going back while he knows his dad is unemployed and still there. "What's yours?"

"Y/N!" When she says it, he feels his heart stop momentarily. "What's your number, JJ?" She asks, and he lets out a laugh.

"Not even a date?" She asks through her giggles, and JJ thinks this sound will kill him.

"Fine!" He chuckles, thinking about what he has to do. "How about tonight at the Ship Wreck?" It's the nicest place he knows that he can also afford, and he expects this rich girl to wince. Instead she smiles even brighter, eyes crinkling.

"7 PM! Don't be late!" She winks, her laugh flowing out the window as she walks back into her room, leaving JJ to wonder how the hell he just got the easiest date of his life with the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

When he realizes he stopped in the middle of the road in front of her house, he takes a deep breath and reminds himself of what happed only a couple weeks ago. He feels like he's gonna be sick as he starts back up again, driving ahead once more.

It doesn't really matter what he thinks. It doesn't matter that he's still in love with her, because she clearly doesn't care anymore. And if she caught him outside her window, she'd probably come out just to yell at him. He wouldn't be surprised if she beat him with a stick.

~

She knows he's out there.

Well, she doesn't know for sure. But she can hear the rumbling of a motorcycle, and it reminds her of him. She hears it every night around the same time, and it makes her wish that he would just come back up to her room. She wouldn't even ask him questions, just let him into her bed so that he could hold her in the way she's been missing for a month now. 

She doesn't go to the window to check for fear of being wrong, of seeing someone else. What she's most afraid of, however, is that someone else will be on the bike, in her place.

She knows she shouldn't feel this way. She knows they weren't dating for that long, that they were in love for such a short time that she should be able to get over it; they didn't even tell each other 'I love you' anyway, so there's no reason for her to think he loved her back. On the outside, they were the party couple, showing up and being all over each other at parties, always next to each other, always with each other. If they were both missing, everyone knew that if you found one, you found the other.

And she was always on the back of his bike.

"I can give you a ride home." He tells her, smiling. The date had gone perfect; they had hit it off quickly, and Y/N saw even the waitress smiling (later, she would realize that the waitress was Kiara, who was friends with JJ). When she had leaned out the window and asked JJ on the date, she wasn't expecting this. She knew he would be fun, she had heard of his reputation, but she didn't think he would be funny or offer to drive her home.

On his motorcycle?

"That one's yours?" She asks, blinking as JJ stops by the thin motorcycle. When he nods, she almost lets out a laugh. "And you think we're both gonna fit?" She smiles, but it's a nervous one that frays on the edges.

"We don't have to take this if you don't want to." He tells her, but she shakes her head.

"No, it sounds fun." She smiles and steps closer to him, causing him to smirk in return.

"Hold on tight." He tells her, putting his helmet over her head before climbing on. He holds his hand out for her, and she takes it while sitting on the back of the seat, thighs clutching the bike and arms wrapped tightly around him.

"Where's your helmet?" She asks, tilting her head to look at him.

"You're wearing it." He tells her, toeing backwards.

"Please be careful." Her heart is racing at the idea of something happening to JJ without his helmet. When she squeezes him tighter, he can practically feel how much she cares. It makes him feel like he could just melt, something he'd never felt before.

"I always will with you." He smiles before pulling out, and if she didn't have the helmet on she would kiss him right there.

And then, of course, she had messed it up.

It started with a party. Usually, it was well known that Y/N and JJ were together, but it was the beginning of summer and the tourons were back. Specifically, one that JJ always hooked up with.

"Jay," CarrieAnn calls, smiling with two drinks in her hand. Y/N had just gone into the Chateau with the girls to use the bathroom, and JJ had been told he wasn't allowed to follow.

"Hey, Carrie." JJ smiles tightly, instantly uncomfortable with how close she is. He steps back, but she clearly doesn't get the message because she steps forward. When JJ takes a sip of his drink, he realizes it's not beer, but something much, much stronger. Apart of him knows he shouldn't drink it, but the part of him that he gets from his dad, the addictive part, wants to slam it all down to let the alcohol numb his heavy feelings.

"How've you been?" She asks, one hand on his shoulder. He tips the drink back before he can think about it.

"I need a new one." He tells her instead of answering her question, turning in the direction of the makeshift bar they had. As they got older and more people chipped in money, they were able to get better alcohol instead of just the kegs. JJ had never been more thankful for that when he threw back a shot and then poured another mixed drink with a heavy hand.

By the time Y/N was out of the bathroom, JJ was three drinks in. He hadn't even left the huge stump they called a bar, standing and smiling with CarrieAnn.

To JJ's defense, Carrie looked a lot like Y/N. Same colored hair and height, similar skin tones and build. But he should have known it wasn't Y/N because while CarrieAnn's eyes were similar, they were no where near as gorgeous as JJ found Y/N's. So when CarrieAnn pulled JJ down for a kiss after pretending to whisper something in his ear, JJ had honestly thought it was Y/N.

Until Y/N grabbed him by his collar and yanked him back.

"How could you?" She screams, taking a look at him. Kiara and Sarah are behind her, mouths open in shock. JJ loved Y/N, everyone could see it; so why was he kissing someone else? the hurt in her voice makes him hurt as well, but he's too drunk to realize why she was so upset. 

"Wha," JJ starts, turning drunkenly between CarrieAnn and Y/N. "I thought," Y/N lifts her head in understanding, but underneath it still stings like a dagger to her heart. JJ shouldn't have been drunk enough to think she was someone else anyway. He had promised to cut back when they started dating, and so far he had. Even at other parties, he hadn't gotten fully drunk around her. 

"Who's this?" CarrieAnn finally steps up, taking a hold of JJ's arm. He shrugs it off, looking at her with confusion. He honestly can't even remember why he had been around Carrie in the first place.

"My girlfriend." He walks forward to Y/N, but she takes a step back, holding a hand up.

"You just kissed another girl." She whispers, backing up a couple more steps. Tears flood in her eyes, her beautiful eyes, and JJ would do anything to take them away.

"I thought she was you." JJ says as he moves forward, confirming Y/N's thoughts. She had figured as much, but it only made the hurt of him kissing someone else marginally easier to bear.

"Because you're drunk." She whispers, as if it's not obvious to everyone that he had been pouring himself half a handle.

"I'm sorry," He finally says, tears starting to spring to his own eyes.

"Let's talk about it when you're sober." She turns, happy that Kiara and Sarah are right there for her, waiting to take her into their arms and away from the party. She leans on them, letting them take her to Kie's car where they'll all go back to Y/N's house.

"Wait!" He calls, but he knows that even if they heard him over the sound of the music, she's not coming back. He deflates as Pope and John B come up to him.

"Dude," Pope starts, frowning. They had seen everything go down, but they were powerless to help; they all knew that stepping in would only make things worse. 

"Don't worry, man." John B puts an arm around his friend, and the three of them start walking toward the Chateau. "I've done way stupider things, and Sarah and I are still together." As if that's supposed to comfort JJ. By the raise of Pope's eyebrow, he doesn't think it was a great thing to say either.

The next day, JJ had tried to go to Y/N's house, but she wasn't around. It wasn't until he walked around the whole house that he realized she was on vacation.

Shit.

He calls her immediately, still on her porch. She picks up quicker than he expected, and he's thankful for it.

"Hello?" It sounds nice enough, but it isn't her usual greeting and it upsets JJ. Usually, she's so excited to get a call from him that she can barely shut up long enough for him to tell her what he needed to.

"Y/N, I'm so so sorry about last night. She kissed me, and I honestly did think she was you. I didn't realize until you pulled me back. I was so drunk, I could barely stand. And I know it's not an excuse, but if you could just forgive me and give me another chance, it'll never happen again. I swear to God." He's begging, he knows he is, but he'll do anything to make it right.

"That's the thing, JJ," She starts, and his heart drops because he has no idea what the thing is. "You're always apologizing for getting drunk. I mean, you've seen what it does to your father, and you still chose to abuse it! I don't mind you having fun and drinking, but," She takes a deep breath as her words get softer with more emotion, and JJ feels like the world has just spun off it's axis. He collapses into one of her patio chairs, heart racing to the point of pain. "If you're so drunk you can't distinguish your girlfriend from another girl, then maybe you shouldn't have one." She tells him, and he could just throw up at her words.

"I know but Y/N,"

"No buts, JJ! Are you gonna get your act together or not?" She's giving him a chance, letting him  pick the easy way out or the hard way to her.

"I'll try." Is the best he can do, but clearly it isn't good enough for Y/N. He doesn't want to lie, however, and he can't make a promise that he doesn't fully know he can keep.

"There is no try in this situation, JJ! You either get a handle on your problem or you lose me." It's very clear that she isn't budging, and JJ shuts his eyes as he feels them water.

"You don't understand!" He begins pulling at his hair, quickly losing his temper. "Yeah, I know how my dad ruined my life with it. I know how he drove away my mom and I know how he fucked himself and me over. But it's not as simple as knowing that. I just, I have so much anxiety, and it helps numb."

"I understand that, Jayj. I can help you-"

"You can't!" He yells, and she just widens her eyes from the other side of the line. He knows he should just shut up, calm down and talk to her later, but his mouth is moving before he can stop it. "You don't understand because life is like walking down the yellow brick road for you!" He was about to say more before he stops himself, knowing that he's already said enough. He knows that life hasn't been like walking on sunshine for her, that she's told him about her mental issues and her struggles with different experiences.

"Goodbye, JJ." She tells him.

"No, wait! I didn't mean that-" He starts, but the dial tone sounds and he knows its over. And the worst part is, he's sober. He has no one, nothing to blame but himself for this one.

~

When she hears a motorcycle go past her house again, it's a late night. It's actually an early morning; two am. She has to know now, needs to see if the person riding their motorcycle past her house every single night is JJ, and if he has anyone else. Namely that girl that looks like her, but it would hurt just as much if it were anyone else.

When she looks out her window, JJ Maybank is stopped in the middle of the street, staring at her house. Her heart gets caught in her throat as she stares from the darkness. She runs down the stairs as fast as she can, hoping he doesn't leave by the time she can get out there. She flies out the door, catching JJ's attention as she sprints across the grass.

"Hey," She whispers, slowing as she reaches him. He just stares at her, his helmetless face betraying all his emotions in the light of the street lamp. She wants to tell him to put on a helmet, but she's sure that's not a good starting point.

"What are you doing out here?" He asks, turning off his motorcycle. He puts the kickstand down and pulls his leg across it to stand. They're staring at each other in the silence, Y/N panting while JJ's heart races in a way that has nothing to do with exercise.

"I wish I would have told you that I love you on the phone." Her admission still makes his heart pound, and he's stunned into silence. "I didn't mean to hang up the phone, I swear. There was so much I wanted to say to you, but I couldn't because of how angry I was. And all I can think about is if I wouldn't have hung up, if I would have just let you explain yourself and if you would have let me express myself, then we would still be together. You know we would still be together." What she says is so true that it makes JJ have to swallow down his emotion.

"It's my fault." He tells her, heart breaking at the way she's taking responsibility for something she didn't even do. "I'm the one who messed up, and I didn't mean to say all those things. I was just so upset and I didn't trust myself." He knows it's a shitty excuse, but for some reason, she puts her hand on his face and tilts his head so he's looking at her.

"We're both sorry. We'll both try to be more understanding." She says, moving even closer until their bodies are touching.

"I love you too." He says before she can apologize or brush off anything else. "And I'm sorry that I ever made you feel like I didn't." He barely finishes talking before her lips are on his, and he smiles as he puts his hands on her hips and pulls her in closer.

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler

[burningblake]

all the gold and the guns in the world (couldn't get you off) ↳ by burningblake

Summary:

She snort-giggles. Because it's the only response she can summon. "I'm not kissing you for a case." "What, no feelings of gratitude left for the knight that saved your life?" --- Jane and Lisbon go undercover as a couple to take down the leader of a drug cartel. Set in early s2, canon up to 2x06.

Read: AO3 | FFnet

Excerpt:

"Of all the goddamned restaurants," Minelli swears, rapping his fist against the dark wooden surface of his desk. It's Monday morning, and he hasn't had coffee yet—Lisbon can tell by the dark pouches under his eyes—so those are already two reasons for him to be cranky. And now this…

She sits on the edge of the couch, her arms criss-crossed, staring at the beams of sunlight permeating through the shuttered windows, and deliberately avoiding eye contact with the man lounging on the opposite end of the sofa. Jane maintains a much more relaxed posture than her, typically, looking directly at their boss.

"Why so grumpy?" he asks. "You have a direct informant for a criminal you've long sought to catch. Isn't that what you law enforcement folks call an advantage?"

Lisbon rolls her eyes, while Minelli takes a long, exaggerated breath to calm himself, refusing to face the speaker and instead addressing her with forced composure.

"Lisbon, can you please explain to this man—this menace to society, this absolute horror of a specimen, this—this… I don't even know what to call him—"

"Bolting-hutch of beastliness? Swollen parcel of dropsies?" Jane helpfully offers, the words amusing him as he proffers them.

"Shut up," Lisbon huffs, her voice a mere stir of the air, half-turning her head towards him.

"What, it's Shakespeare," he murmurs back.

She shakes her head.

"Tell him," Minelli continues, albeit with a hard stare on the consultant, "that him getting caught on camera casually chatting up a renowned drug lord hours before they find his car packed up with four kilos of heroin is the opposite of an advantage. In fact, it's the kind of thing that could get us all permanently unemployed. Do you have any idea what resources I had to pull to convince the FBI that you were on a secretly-authorized mission from the bureau?"

Jane shrugs. "Honestly, I had no idea he was under the FBI's radar. It's impressive, actually—if they are that focused on him, I wonder why they haven't caught him so far."

"That's not for you to question! What you should be worried about is ending up in prison— again. "

"But you just said—"

"Sir," Lisbon cuts him off before he can make it any worse, "I sincerely apologize on behalf of the both of us. I should have known—"

The older man glares at her. "Yes, I was getting to you, Lisbon. How could you have allowed this? What were the two of you doing at the restaurant of one of Vegas' most notorious casinos in the first place?"

"Sir, we'd just finished the Barnes case - the one with the double murder victim? It was a long drive home and I falsely thought to let him pick the dinner place. I take full responsibility for this—I told him who Vincent Garpow was, misjudging his ability to restrain himself from baiting a cartel boss."

The rest of the team had taken a flight home, but Jane had stayed with her while she finished up with the bureaucratic ends of the case, claiming he had nothing else to do. Lately she doesn't think much of him hovering around, whether he's spending time at the couch in her office, or taking the hour-long road trips with her. She finds comfort in his presence and the long silences they often share. More than she'd like to admit. Especially when he gets on her nerves.

"Meh," he jeers, then prods his chin towards Minelli. "How long has the FBI been monitoring Garpow's crew? Five years? This is the first time there's an actual plan to catch him."

Lisbon snaps her head towards him, feeling like she's had enough of his arrogance. "You offering to transfer product for a major trafficker is not a plan. What were you thinking?"

It's imperceptible, but he settles down a little under her gaze, that rare earnestness of his shining through momentarily. He opens his mouth to speak, lifting his finger, but it is Minelli's voice that comes instead.

"Well, whatever it was, congratulations, you've officially appointed yourself to this case," he announces.

Lisbon turns to him, arching an eyebrow, a prickle of worry pinching her stomach. "Sir?"

"You heard me, Lisbon. Jane interfered with official federal business. His options are prison, or, your team cooperates with the FBI to finish what he started."

"But he's a civilian. He doesn't have proper training," she argues.

"That is why you'll be joining him," Minelli announces, and her heart sinks into her stomach as she realizes where this is going. "You were together in that restaurant, were you not? Well, both of you will be meeting with Garpow's crew, acting undercover as a couple."

***

She rushes down the hall to her office, aware of Jane falling into step behind her. She wants to turn around and shout at him to quit following her, which would be in line with her usual attitude towards him, except right now she doesn't trust her reasons. Or the steadiness of her voice for that matter. It's just an assignment, just another case, she chants to herself again and again. Even though it feels as though Minelli reached into her innermost thoughts and orchestrated the ideal plot to expose them. Expose what? she questions herself. She doesn't have feelings for her consultant. This is just her shy juvenile instincts and catholic training acting out.

She reaches her door then, and on an impulse, slams it to his face as she steps through. The last thing she needs is to have all that emotional jumble inside her exposed to his very perceptive eyes. Thankfully, she does have quite a valid reason not to want to talk to him, considering he once again failed to communicate.

"Lisbon, come on," he pleads. The mere sound of his voice sends swarms of bees up her arms and spine. Get it together, girl. This is so silly. So not her. No, she cannot face him. Not until she's reined in all the insanity, until she's made sense of her own overreaction, and until she has safely concealed most of it.

"Go away," she orders, surprised to hear the firmness in her own voice.

She sits at her desk and runs a hand through her hair. Opens her bottom drawer to take a glimpse of the expensive amber liquid tucked neatly inside, before she slides the drawer shut again.

"What did you do?" Cho's voice comes from outside her door. That almost completely mortifies her. So, naturally, it is what brings her back. Like water evaporates when it boils, her body has an odd reaction to the presence of high-strung emotions. As if the mere taste of experiencing that kind of lack of control sets off an immune mechanism, oozing calm and numbness into her veins instead. It always came in handy when she had to control situations with her dad and brothers.

"Uh, I made business with a drug dealer," Jane admits.

A bit and then, "How much 'd they pay you?" Cho asks.

"Nothing, I haven't delivered the product yet."

The other man exhales. "So you made them angry."

"Yeah, not my fault. FBI got in the way," Jane defends.

"So you made them angry and suspicious."

"I ... "

Lisbon finally opens the door, interrupting whatever the consultant was attempting to say. Both of them turn to look at her, Cho with the ever restful expression on his features, and Jane with apologetic, albeit inquisitive eyes. She averts her gaze, still fearing what he might read in it.

"Cho, have Van Pelt look into Vincent Garpow's operations. You and Rigsby go meet with FBI Special Agent Haffner to share his intel on the drug cartel's history."

"You've got it, boss," Cho replies, swiftly turning on his heel. She prepares to face Jane then, but Bosco suddenly appears where Cho stood, his thick eyebrows raised in concern.

"Teresa, am I hearing right? You're back on the Garpow case?"

Instead of answering, she side-eyes Jane, wishing that Bosco would have kept his mouth shut. But a look at the consultant tells her that it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Because of course he already knows that she has a history with the particular crime boss. Like he knows so many other things.

"Yes, Sam. That's right," she answers.

"Well, be careful." He hesitates. "If you need anything..."

"I know," she reassures him, the edge of a smile on her lips. Bosco nods and walks away.

Silence settles over the threshold of her office. She sighs, and finally indulges the consultant with her attention, neatly wrapped into a glare and a retreat to her desk. Jane follows her inside, until they both smooth into the power dynamics they're accustomed with—her sitting in her chair, him standing in front of her workspace, humbled and ready to make amends.

"Lisbon, listen—" he starts, but she's the least bit willing to let him drive this conversation. Not to mention how her stomach clenches at the sight of the seriousness in his eyes.

"When were you planning on telling me?" she demands.

He gives her a long, quiet stare. "Not telling you was kind of the entire point," he says, and then without sharing any more information, waits for her to understand the implication behind his words. Which Lisbon does, with a shock that rises from her blood to consume her entirely.

"You wanted the FBI to catch you," she utters. "So that I would get the case."

He holds her gaze steadily. "You were visibly upset to see him at the restaurant, and from the way you spoke about him, I could tell that you had dealt with him in the past. He left a sore spot for you—my guess is that it was a victim's father, or mother—yes, the latter—that you failed to give closure to, because they pulled the case from you too soon."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "So you manipulated Garpow and the FBI to give it back to me?"

Jane glances sideways. "Pretty much, yeah."

"There's a million ways that could have gone wrong!"

"Um, but it didn't," he points out.

"If this is some kind of leverage to get me to convince Bosco to return the Red John case to you—"

"You can do that?" he wonders.

"No!"

He taps a finger on his lips, muttering to himself, "Yes, I figured. Your unique influence on him can only reach so far."

"Jane," she says in all seriousness. He lifts his eyes to hers, an intimate kind of silence falling over them. Something sparks in her chest, but she ignores it. "I need you to quit acting like this is your usual walk in the park. Crime syndicates like this are dangerous business. One wrong look, and they could have your head blasted in a blink. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect Minelli to make this an official undercover mission, much less assign us on it. I mean, the delivery date is long past, the slingers are going to be asking questions now. We'd better work on getting our act together."

She blinks, leaning back in her chair. "What do you mean 'get our act together'?" She tries for a light tone, but her blush must ruin the effect.

If he's noticed it—which he most certainly has—Jane shows no sign of it.

"Well, we need to get the cop out of you, first and foremost," he explains, then pauses with a frown. "I don't suppose you own a mini black leather skirt?"

Lisbon's mouth gapes open, her memory brushing over that one less than decent outfit she wore at college once, knowing it will no longer fit her. Regardless, it's not the point right now. Her wardrobe should be none of his concern. And what does he mean by that phrasing? She's not that much of a prude. Not that she gives a damn about what he thinks of her or doesn't.

"Yes, we'll have to do some shopping," Jane continues unperturbed, before she can let out any of her protests. The way he says it, like an answer to her thoughts, sets off an alarm in her. Reminds her that her mind is never safe around him.

She smiles sweetly, raising her defenses. "I can handle my own wardrobe, thanks."

A bizarre image flashes through her head—her parading in a slew of skimpy outfits, while he lounges at the back of a boutique store, assuming the role of her critic. She crosses her legs under the desk, quickly hiding her eyes from view.

"Alright." Jane is quiet for a moment. So quiet she's forced to look up again.

"There's of course also the matter of us selling like a real couple."

It's instinctive, how she summons up her defenses, giving him an elaborate frown. "What? Like the thugs are going to be interested in whether we know each other's favorite color and birthday dates?"

Her mocking tone leaves him unaffected. "We both already possess that kind of information," he says, and suddenly she remembers him looking her in the eyes one dusky afternoon and telling her his favorite color is green. "What I mean is of a more practical nature." She stares at him. He cannot be suggesting what she thinks he's suggesting. And then he adds, "Like intimacy", clearing all doubt.

Heat travels up her body, her skin feeling all clammy and burned-up. Just a case, just an assignment. The chant echoes across her head, pulled like a lifeline for her deteriorating sanity.

She doesn't have feelings for him. He's not even her type. Emotional stability is her type. Except in moments like this, when it's like her own brain betrays her, filling her with this untethered kind of attraction. Moments that she catches herself flirting with the idea of irrationality.

She snort-giggles. Because it's the only response she can summon. "I'm not kissing you for a case."

"What, no feelings of gratitude left for the knight that saved your life?"

She grabs a crumpled piece of paper from her desk and tosses it at him, relief washing through her. Good. He's back to joking.

"I'll feel gratitude when you stop mingling with dangerous mobsters."

"Fair enough. I'll keep you to your word," he quips, the idea of a grin shaping across his face as he ambles out of her office.

It's only several seconds after he's left that she realizes the double implication in his statement. And she's thankful for it, for at least he's not present to witness her turning scarlet all over.

[nonnieapple]

⛈☂ Mall Emo, Mall Time, Mall Crime!☂⛈

 • (human!Marshall Lee x reader)  • r a t i n g: t e e n & u p • 2 1 0 3  w o r d s  • p o s t e d 04.10.2023     🌧 navigation  • s u m m a r y: what do you do when the cashier at a store is a dick? cheese it!

You couldn't wait to see Marshall again. Even though you had seen him a few days ago, you couldn't help but brim with happiness at the thought of seeing him again. You felt electrified, no matter how dumb that sounded, it was exactly how you felt. You smudged on dark eyeliner, pulled on your skinniest jeans, decked out your wrists with enough bracelets to cut off circulation, and wrapped one too many belts around your hips.

Two to be exact.

When you saw Marshall you practically strangled his waist with your grip. He sighed and hugged back.

"Are you trying to kill me or are you just happy to see me?" He said, strained. You pulled back enough to see his face. His beautiful, otherworldly face, his piercings, and his relaxed, dark eyes, which had a red undertone.

"I am never letting you go," You mumbled as you embraced him one more time before pulling away.

"Way to break a promise." He laughed, raising his brows and walking by your side to the entrance of the AAA Mall, one of the only malls around.

"I meant that in a more… metaphorical sense." You shrugged with a smile. Even the annoying mall, with all its lights and people and sounds, couldn't make you upset around Marshall. You were low-key obsessed with that man. In a mostly healthy way.

You walked through the mall, having been there quite a few times before. Why meet in a mall? There wasn't… a particular reason. It was one of the only notable places around. Sometimes you got food there that was edible. The vibes were okay, and Marshall liked staring at the Gridsound displays from time to time. Now that you thought of it, that was the biggest reason.

The AAA Mall wasn't crowded most days either, and you two, both unemployed artists, went there on the dead days- Monday through Friday. When the stores were a relative ghost town. That suited your sensory and human sensitivities. Nothing was worse than people staring at you. Besides the dry sound of dry skin on extremely dry paper, or nail filing. It felt like the sound itself filed down on your teeth. You never quite figured out why people stared. Was it your fashion? Were people that bored? Theorizing was useless. All it did was make you more anxious.

You looked up at Marshall. When you just started hanging out, he asked why you were looking at him like that, but eventually, he accepted that at times you stared like a cat at the nearest object. He was understanding, and whenever you needed some help, he was there. He was a good guy. A little bit of trouble, but you were too, and that was fun.

"It's cold in here. I can feel my blood turning into ice cubes…" You shivered, speeding up your pace as you looked around at blank mannequins and generic posters of conventional-looking white people. The embodiment of salt as seasoning.

"Hm?" Marshall blinked, glancing at you. "I think it's fine." He slipped his hand into yours, and you gasped.

"I'm convinced you're cold-blooded," You murmured, his hand cool and dry, his black nail polish chipped under your fingers.

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?" His calm voice was not suited for the absurdity of that phrase.

"Dude… why the hell would you ask me that?" He feigned immense devastation at your sound question.

"So, you wouldn't?" He stopped, giving you the saddest look.

"You should've been a darn actor…. of course I would. Now let's move, my something is about to fall off." You pulled him behind yourself gently. You passed by a breakfast diner called Kingdom. Not even. Their pancakes were super soggy.

Every store was a carbon copy of the next and the last, clothes so blank they were fit for a pharmaceutical ad. Warning- buying these clothes might be deadly. You'll die of boredom. Unless you only wear a shirt and nothing else. You know what they say, public indecency is a fashion statement! For the record nothing is wrong with being basic; it's fun to make fun of capitalistic copycats which probably don't even let their workers pee in a bottle, all for an off-white cardigan fit for a widow cosplay. You could even get a handkerchief in the pharmacy nearby.

Marshall slowed and you both marveled at the display- the store. Electric guitars with glossy, colorful, and rich exteriors, mics that cost as much as two pairs of eyeballs on the black market. The store was also filled with various tech. The interior was red and orange, covered with a checker pattern. No one was inside, only the cashier. They were taking a nap on the counter. Soft music played on the speakers. The sign above the entrance flickered. "Gridsound", lit up by a warm glow.

Around the corner was one of the most interesting shops in the AAA Mall, which said something. Flame Topic, a huge corporation trying to make money off people with an alternative style, essentially the same widow cosplay repackaged in a leathery, dark package.

You passed by it as you waved to one of the clerks, a person you knew, Flamber. A funky name for a funky person who was much better than that store but didn't wanna be another unemployed hoodlum.

The store right next to it was an exceptionally empty craft store, Raggedart. The cashier had resorted to doodling in a sketchbook, seated between the aisles. He wore a frumpy, muted in color, messily stitched-together sweater. You turned your head to the side.

Gum & Dia. The owner was Dia Gumm Baldwin, an older woman who had as much scandal surrounding her as she did money.

You hated that store and all of its tacky fast fashion, but the belts seemed okay. Just the belts. You wandered around it, pondering if you should get anything. Marshall was encouraging, at times to fault, so you stayed quiet as you pictured your life with a particular pair of socks. Riveting stuff.

There were a handful of people in the store, and its open nature made you worried, your shoulders tensing and nails digging into your palms. A clerk in all green and a green hoodie over their head with spikes atop it spoke to a couple of customers, gesturing to another section of the store.

You stood closer to Marshall.

"The cashier is looking at me funny… they can't handle the autistic swag," You whispered. He chuckled.

After a lot of meandering around the store, you settled on some belts. Marshall didn't seem interested in getting anything, instead inspecting the enticing crap around the checkout as you paid for your crap, setting the money on the register.

The cashier, a woman with brown hair and a crazy look to her glared at you. She looked so mad you'd think she was staring at an arch-enemy of hers.

"That's not enough."

You dug through your wallet, but no matter how many times you counted the money, you couldn't get the number right, or you didn't have enough money, hell knew, by that point your brain was shutting down.

Your mind blanked, your heart filled with panic and nonsense. You shook, feeling cold yet hot, everything in your eyes blurring and time stopping yet going too fast at the same time. It felt like a nightmare- a nightmare where a tsunami was about to wash over you, and you stood stupid, frozen by icelava. The scenario? Entirely different. The feeling? The utter dread? The same.

You didn't only stand stupid, you felt stupid. You wished you could control it. Control the anxiety.

Marshall found your hand. You didn't react, hand limp and cold. You tried to ground yourself. You were floating off into nowhere mentally as the judgement of the customers and cashier built.

"Ugh, what a weirdo, how can it take so long to pay?" Said a person behind you in line. The person next to them snickered.

"Can you please move it? What, are you scared or something?" The cashier had an air of suffocating smugness about her, glaring at you. You searched for a shred of understanding in her face. She flicked a crumpled-up check at you, and you could only stare in horror.

"Probably one of those people afraid of the world. One of those "mentally ill" ones, you know, the ones seeking attention," Whispered one of the people behind you as though you didn't hear. Not like they have a shit if you did.

Marshall strained to not strum the cashier a new one, also standing like a deer in headlights. An all too familiar reaction to conflict from him. He leaned down to you.

"I'm not saying we should take the stuff and run, but, if you want to, we totally could," He whispered, standing up straight right after as if he hadn't said a thing to you.

Your eyes darted to the register. Your mind went fast, thinking of the pros and cons. It all merged into a big lump of panic. You were filled with feverish worry.

You grabbed the things, gripping them for dear life, running toward the exit as fast as you could. Marshall was nearly perfectly in sync with you.

You ran out of the store and the belts beeped loudly, security chasing after you. Your mind and muscles screamed at you, but you yelled over them.

"You're way too supportive!" You addressed Marshall. You glanced back. The guards were hot on your trail of petty theft. They pulled out their walkie-talkies and gave you icy looks from under deeply furrowed brows. Their thick black and white uniforms, making them look like penguins, slowed them down significantly.

"Sorry for being nice and great and the best," Marshall murmured with utter seriousness as you breezed past the front entrance and past to the parking and beyond. You turned around and around until you were far enough to catch a breather.

You both panted. Your heart burned with cold fire and you buzzed and shook with excitement.

"I don't even want these…" You blinked slowly at the belts in your hands, the post-shoplifting clarity hitting you like a Mitsubishi 3000GT VR-4 Spyder. Your panic had begun to ebb and it felt awful. Also like getting hit by a Mitsubishi 3000GT VR-4 Spyder.

Marshall looked down at what he had grabbed with even more confusion than you. He had grabbed random crap. A pair of chains with crosses and a black face mask with a cat on it.

"Neither do I care about this chain. Do you want it?" He asked unsurely. Your eyes sparkled. Shinies.

"I'll have that." You grabbed them out of his hands, dropping them into your pockets.

"I care more about those assholes judging us," Marshall sighed, leaning against a wall. You hummed and frowned.

"I don't get it, is it so hard to stay outta our business? Do I have a sign on my back saying JUDGE ME?" You raised your arms to the heavens.

"I sure didn't put one there," He replied with a mischievous tone. You huffed, glancing at him up and down.

"You wouldn't do that."

You looked at your back.

"It's true, I care about you. It's my dirty secret." He turned away, covering his face dramatically.

"Awww! You're rotten!" You shoved him ever so softly. He looked to the side.

"In more ways than one." You fastened the belts around your hips, tags still on. Marshall raised a brow, silently questioning your sanity. He should've done that when he met you. Too late now.

"If anyone questions me I'll turn them into protein powder." You smoothed out your clothes, crossing your arms.

Marshall opened his mouth. He closed it, giving a thumbs up and a shaky grin.

"Let's go to the City Of Thieves bar and then home." You stretched, walking. He followed without question. He tended to do that, especially if you were in a new place, he was like a lost puppy.

"Home?"

"My apartment." You glanced at him.

"Sounds good." He smiled softly, reaching his long arm around your shoulders.

You waited at the bus stop. The bus rolled in, coming to a slow halt. You got on and made your way to the last seat which was almost always empty. The bus was pretty empty too.

"I am not paying for this bus," You whispered to Marshall as you stared outside at the sunset. His grip tightened around your shoulders comfortingly, pulling you into him.

You could hear his smirk.

"Me neither."