#like fuck even the shit I put up with for money and keeping my career moving forward I don’t ever wanna hear ANYONE tell me I’m selfish for

[eyecide]

Rather unsurprisingly I have not actually been stress vomiting, at All since mr “guilt tripped me into letting him basically cheat on me with other people online, chronically unemployed, lived in literally filth BY CHOICE, checked himself into the psych ward bc I needed space from the constant fighting for a few weeks, treated me like an object constantly and barely even tolerated being around me if we didn’t fuck but somehow was so convinced he was The Good Boyfriend” and I broke up

[chaniceroses]

Bad Boys Ride or Die (Armando x Reader) Part FIVE

(Audio to listen to while reading. :)

Pulling into the driveway, there was a thick dreadful moment of tension in the car. “Would you like us to come in and check it out for you. "Mike asked, looking at you through his mirror. You shook your head and got out of the car, the world felt dark and every shadow that was near the trees reminded you of the guy in the van. It took you a while but eventually you were able to unlock your door. Once you turned around and gave Mike a small smile, they pulled out the driveway and left.

Grabbing your gun from the holster that was wrapped around your leg. You went inside to be met by multiple figures inside your living room. Before you could respond, you found yourself on the ground with a pounding feeling coming from the back of your head. Your vision was blurry and the room was spinning.

“What the fuck.”, you whispered trying to pull yourself off the ground. You watched as a man walked up to you and kneeled down to your level.

“You know I've missed you, right?”, he laughed, picking you up and setting you in a chair. You thought to yourself, maybe you should’ve asked Marcus and Mike to search your house, then again, someone still needs to be alive to prove Captain’s innocence. 

“What do you want?”, you sighed, holding the back of your head. You felt a warm substance on your head, and could feel chills move across your body. Blood.

“I hate it has to be this way. Especially between us.”, a hard rugged voice replied sitting right in front of you. You could see the lights being turned on, which made it hard for your eyes to be adjusted. Once your vision became clear, there he was. Sitting in front of you with a smile that could haunt you even in death.

“McGrath,”you muttered. Your eyes-widened in shock, what is he doing? Why was he doing all of this?

“You’ve finally recognized me. I was hoping you wouldn’t forget who I was or my name.”, he stated caressing his hand across your face. You threw your head back in rejection, which quickly made you regret doing that.

“I know you didn’t think I would forget about you and the things you did to me. Having me tortured…nearly killed years ago.”, he explained getting up from in front of you.

Memories started coming back from that night. Watching him and his team getting beaten by the Cartel. You had no choice, you were undercover and accidentally fell in love with him but had to choose your career. The only difference is, that you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place.

“McGrath, you know that I didn’t want to do that!”, you exhaustingly yelled. “I had no choice, they were my family too. I have no one now.”, you continued. 

“And whose fault is that?”

You threw your head back in defeat, he had a reason to feel that way. You put yourself first instead of him, the person you had loved. He had helped you get to where you are now and showed you the way. All you could do was stare at him, the way his short gray hair stood up and the way he caressed his goatee mustache while being deep in thought.

“I cared about you then…and still do now but that shit doesn’t even matter.”, he continued standing up and walking to the backroom. You watched as he went down your hallway, what was he doing. Suddenly you heard a loud cry from your room. 

“McGrath!”, you screamed in terror. The cries were getting louder and louder each step that was taken. You watched intensively to see who it was and when you saw him, your heart dropped. 

“LadyBug…”, you cried, feeling a tear come down your face. “McGrath, please.”, you pleaded slowly, trying to get up from your seat only to be pushed back down by one of McGrath’s workers.

“McGrath, kill me. Please!”, you begged. “Kill me, he’s done nothing.” You watched as McGrath’s face softened while looking at you. 

“I hate that in order for me to see you care for someone, is like this.”, he replied, keeping his grip tight on LadyBug while grabbing a pillow.

“The money is in his computer file, you know that already so why are you doing this.”, you replied hysterically. At this point your vision was blurry from crying and you forgot all about the pain on your side and neck. McGrath was sinister and believed in revenge. You knew that he would take LadyBug out because you cared about him. You had to figure something out.

“Let me help you.”, you sighed looking around at his workers then back to McGrath. “Please, I can help you. You know I can.” You slowly got up but before you could take a step, his assistants grabbed your shoulders.

“Let her come.”, McGrath demanded, holding the pillow behind LadyBug’s head. 

You walked up to LadyBug and stared at him. 

“Home. Late.”, he quietly replied,  pointing towards the clock. When you turn to look at the clock and then the window, that’s when you put two-and-two together. 

“You’ve been in my home the whole time?”, you sobbed looking at McGrath. There was anger and pure hatred in his eyes while he looked at you. You could feel it however, you felt the same. You grabbed LadyBug’s hand and started to caress it with your fingers. You knew if you were to tell him that everything was going to be okay, that would be a lie. So all you could do was wipe his tears.

“Mc…McGrath. Take me, kill me, torture me. Do whatever.”, you stuttered, swallowing a lump that you didn’t know that was developed in your throat. You watched as he searched your eyes for an answer.

“You look so beautiful when you cry y/n.”,he heckled, taking his other hand to hold up your chin.

You stared at each other for what felt like forever, until you felt your ears begin to  ring. You felt yourself holding onto something but afraid to look down to see what it was. No more tears could fall down, you felt empty.

“I still love you.”, McGrath smiled, kissing you on top of your forehead. For that kissing placement to be such a soft gesture, it felt hot, hard and evil. You stood there holding onto whatever was in your hands as McGrath grabbed his things and headed towards the door.

“I want Mike, Marcus and Armando. You have some decisions to be making so I'll be saving you for last.”, he continued opening up your front door and holding it for the others to walk out. You felt alone, for the very first time ever. First you had to make a decision when it came to your career however, now this is different.

“I won’t be coming home, so don’t wait up for me but make sure you clean up.”, he sarcastically said, looking at you one more time before closing the door. 

“LadyBug…I-”, you stuttered, holding his body up towards your chest. You could feel his body leaning against yours. You kneeled down until you were able to completely sit on the ground while holding his body to ensure that he wouldn’t get hurt.

“My badge…LadyBug, I can…my badge.”, you silently repeated. You were afraid to look down, to see his lifeless body being held in your arms. From the little boy that would come over your house, talk and eat with you everyday, and play in your yard to now being  dead is  in your arms. The boy who would stay up and hike out in a tall tree to be sure that you would make it home every night. The little boy with the sweetest spirit and the most soft spoken voice, was now dead while you held him ,lifeless.

You finally got the courage to look down to see that one of his lenses in his glasses was broken. He was covered in bruises and blood was coming from the top of his head.

“LadyBug, I’m so sorry LadyBug!! I’m so sorry!”, you screamed, grabbing his body and holding him tighter than before. Hours had passed since McGrath had killed LadyBug and you were still on the ground holding LadyBug close to your chest, until you heard a knock on the door.

“Help me!”, you loudly whispered, pushing LadyBug’s hair out of his face.

You watched as your door was kicked open and saw Marcus and Mike rush in. They stopped in their tracks and examined your living room until they saw you on the ground holding LadyBug.

“Y/N, WHAT THE HELL…”, Mike yelled running over towards him. 

“He came, he came…and he killed LadyBug, he killed him. He came! McGrath!”, you whispered repeatedly rocking LadyBug back and forth. 

“Y/n we have to call for help. Let us help-”

“NO! We leave him here! We have to kill him, we have to kill him before he kills us and Armando. We need Armando, I need him.”, you yelled looking at Marcus and Mike. They had a concerning look on their face.

“Why do you need Armando?”Marcus replied, coming closer to you. At first you were hesitant but now everything must go out on the table,

“It’s a long story.”, you sighed, sniffing the snot that was trying to come out of your nose. “We have to leave now, help me”, you pleaded, falling into Mike’s arm while holding LadyBug’s in yours. You watched as Marcus carefully picked up LadyBug’s body and carefully laid him on the couch and covered him. 

“Come here…”, Mike whispered, picking you softly bridal style. You winced in pain from the bruise on your side but soon found yourself comfortably in Mike’s arm.

“I couldn’t get my things, I couldn’t save him Mike.”, you cried as Mike carried you to his car.

“It’s not your fault, y/n. We will catch that son of a bitch. I promise you that.”, he replied, taking off his jacket and covering you with it.

You thought things would change and be different. If you would’ve known that McGrath would’ve come back and chased, you like a dog and caused all of these problems.  You would’ve killed him years ago, to avoid all of this, especially Ladybug’s death.  Your mind felt cold, and you wanted to be sure that McGrath saw the pits of hell. His death belonged to you, and you were sure you were going to get it. That was the last thing on your mind before you passed out. 

[medusapelagia]

31 Suddenly parents

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt:"I'm not going to beg you to love me." ) and @augustwritingchallenge (2 Prompts: accidental baby acquisition + retail workers) Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: Henderdads Words: 1153

Working in retail isn’t that bad. Steve is good with people, so he can deal easily even with the more annoying clients. The problem is his coworker and housemate: Eddie Munson.

Eddie has no filter, when a customer asks him a stupid question he tells them in their face how stupid they are and they don’t give a fuck even if the manager keeps telling him to pay attention because he’s going to fire him one of this days, Eddie knows he won’t because the pay sucks and so he doesn’t care.

“I’m going to be a famous guitarist soon, no need to stress about this stupid job. It will be a funny note on my autobiography.” Eddie says everytime Steve reminds him that he still has a rent to pay and Steve is so tired of his bullshit. 

“So, what about your great musical career?” Steve mocks him while they are checking the shop stock at three am because none wanted to do such a shitty job and they need the fucking money.

“I’ll send you a postcard from LA soon, Harrington,” Eddie rebukes, blowing a raspberry at Steve while counting the stupid boxes once more.

Steve doesn’t insist, too busy keeping track of everything on the folder Keith gave him the night before. He’s starving. They have worked a late shift and now they are counting an infinite amount of boxes and god only knows when they’ll finally mange to eat something.

In a moment of silence the sound of a stomach growling fills the air, Steve puts an hand on his stomach but it wasn’t him.

"You hungry?" Steve finally asks Eddie, looking at him in the eye for the first time during the night, but Eddie turns toward him, confused.

"I thought it was you!" He replies, frowning.

They keep quiet for a moment, wondering if someone is in the storehouse with them, but when they don’t hear any other sound they get back to their work until they hear another gurgle followed by a soft whimper.

“Did you hear that?” Steve asks, looking around, hitching for the bat he always has in his trunk.

“I did.” Eddie replies, the same scared look on his face while he looks around the pile of boxes.

“Maybe it’s a dog.” Steve suggests, looking for something to defend himself.

“It didn’t sound like a dog.” Eddie replies, looking warily around them.

“A thief?”

“Robbing paper towels and detergent?” Eddie whispers, but he doesn’t move.

Steve holds the folder tight and steps closely toward the direction where the sound came from, when another little gurgle makes them both jump out of their skin. Gathering all his courage, Steve steps out from behind a pile of boxes, holding his folder high on his head, ready to crash it on the stranger’s head, but when he finally sees what’s making those sounds he freezes.

“Eddie?” He calls, lowering his arms, “Do you see what I see?”

On the ground, close to the shutter, there’s a sleepy little boy in a car seat, brushing his eyes and whimpering softly.

“A baby? What does a fucking kid do here?!” Eddie yells and the child startles, starting to cry out loud.

“No, no. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.” Steve coos him, picking him up and rocking him softly, while the kid brushes his face against Steve leaving snot and tears on his uniform, “I know… I know. He didn’t meant to scare you, little boy. Tell him you didn’t mean it.” Steve says to Eddie, still rocking the baby.

“What? No! There’s a child in the storehouse and the problem is that I screamed?”

The baby starts to wails while Steve glares at Eddie who begrudgingly finally whispers his excuses to the child.

“Sorry, kid. Didn’t mean to scare you. But you scared me first. What the hell are you doing here, little buddy?” Eddie asks, looking at the baby seat and finding a crumpled letter under a worned out blanket.

‘His name his Dustin. Please take care of him because I can’t.”

“Holy fucking shit, Steve. Someone abandoned him.”

“No shit, Sherlock! Kids don’t appear in storehouses on their own! Are you a hungry little man? Yeah, you’re. We’re going to find you something to eat soon, don’t worry.”

“What? How? What do babies even eat?”

“Formula. Let’s go to the pharmacy and pick up some formula and a bottle for this hungry baby. A pacifier and some diapers too.”

“Steve, you can’t just take a random kid home!”

“We can’t leave him here!”

“Of course no! Let’s call 911 and give him to them.”

“It’s three am in the morning! He needs to be in a safe place, not tossed around from one car to another.”

“Steve…” Eddie tries to help him be more reasonable, but Steve isn’t listening.

“Are you going to help or not?” He asks, still holding the baby tight to his chest.

“I… I… ok. I’ll help.”

“Good. There’s a pharmacy that should be open next to our place. I’ll wait for you at home.” Steve replies, grabbing the babyseat and the kid and throwing the storehouse keys to Eddie, “And close everything before leaving!”

***

When Eddie arrives at home, the baby is still crying but it’s clear that Steve bathed him, even if he’s still fussy and he calms down only when Steve finally gives him a bottle of warm milk. He lets out a huge burpe that makes both Eddie and Steve giggle, and then he falls asleep in Steve’s arms.

“You look good with a kid in your arms.” Eddie admits, caressing the baby’s puffy cheek.

“I always loved kids. Wanted to become a preschooler teacher, but things didn’t worked out.”

“Your parents?”

“Yeah.”

“You should try again. You would be a great teacher. And a great dad.”

“Eddie, I’m gay, who’s going to give me a kid to raise?” Steve asks in mocking tone.

“I would. And someone else did.”

“That’s just a coincidence.”

Eddie shakes his head in denial, “I don’t think so, Stevie. It’s no coincidence if the kid was there tonight.”

Steve chuckles and the baby complains at being jostle, “Sorry, sorry. Keep sleeping, Dustin.”

“Now what?”

“Now we wait for the morning and we go to the hospital to check him out and find him a family.”

“We could be his family,” Eddie declares, looking at the little boy while Steve raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, "I'm not going to beg you to love me. I know that train left the station long ago, but we could still raise the kid together."

“What about your dreams of becoming a great musician?”

“You’re right. They were just dreams. This,” Eddie says, pointing at the baby, “this is real.”

That night Steve and Eddie slept in the same bed for the first time after years, a little baby between them and a dream of family accidentally coming true. 

[argumentativeaxolotl]

Random Human AU Cars headcanons that probably don’t make any sense before I go to bed bc I can.

Lightning McQueen:

- Has accidentally called Doc “dad” before

- Has accidentally called Strip “dad” as well

- Bro can literally not stop moving- like he will not sit still and he tries so hard

- He has the shortest attention span ever if it doesn’t have to do with his friends or racing

- He actually really enjoys American Football and plays a modified version with Mater sometimes

- He was an orphan growing up

- Bro would 100% go apeshit feral if he lost a game of Uno

- Loves carnivals

- Dog person

- Forgets he’s rich sometimes and he can make his own decisions about money

- His love language is hugs and gifts

- He bought the Hot Wheels of his car and continues to buy every variation

Chick Hicks:

- Bit other kids as a child

- Filled water guns with lemonade and shot at people’s eyes

- Daddy issues(actually this is canon isn’t it?)

- Cat person

- Frighteningly good at card games like Casino “house always wins” levels of good. Like bro will somehow know what your cards are without even looking at them

- He put rocks in snowballs

- Alcoholic

- Loves anything horror, gorey, and True Crime

- He’s notoriously bad at getting people gifts, like seriously bro is not allowed to buy anything for anyone for Christmas or their birthdays that’s how bad it is(someone usually gets it for him)

- He probably has a huge gambling problem

- His love language is giving gifts

- He gives gifts as a form of apology because he’s shit at words

- Literally the best mustache in all of cars- like he keeps that thing at top condition 101% of the time

- He never actually finished school because his dad forced him into racing as soon as he could

- Probably had rabies at one point and somehow survived

- If you somehow manage to become a good friend of his, he’ll actually be super chill w/ you

- Rich as FUCK

Strip Weathers:

- Legally adopted Cal after his parents passed away(or sumn idk)

- Has several scars on his arm from the crash during the tie-breaker race

- He, Tex, Lynda, and Cal were practically inseparable after the crash

- He and Tex are literally the bestest of buds like they are homies to the MAX

- He doesn’t hold any ill-will against Chick even if he should and is allowed to

- The “Boy Scout” of racing(think Superman or Captain America)

- He listens to “Old Town Road” by Lil Nas X while working with his horses. Cal cringes every time.

- He never swears unless he’s serious about something or is extremely upset or concerned

- He almost fainted when he met Doc for the first time, almost immediately asking for an autograph

- He has a ranch full of horses and enjoys horse racing as well as car racing

- Received an apology gift of both cologne and a miniature trophy from Chick

- He let Chick sign his cast after the crash

- He’s tried to teach Lightning and Bobby how to ride horses with Cal’s help. It did not go well

- He wanted to be a doctor for a little while before switching career paths

- Racing is literally in his blood(he comes from a very VERY long line of racers)

- Weirdly good at writing. Like for no reason.

- He heavily fanboyed over Doc when he was younger

Doc Hudson:

- He loves Lightning as his son

- He thinks of Sally as a surrogate daughter

- Unironically says “back in my day” whenever he’s telling a story

- He owns a shotgun and it’s hidden away in his house, far away from Lightning(who keeps trying to find it with no luck)

- He knows the most shit out of everyone and all their backstories. Bro hears the gossip and goes “nice”

- He loves watching fruit dissection videos on YouTube for some reason

- Bro is great at knitting. Like seriously. Give him ten seconds and you’ll have a whole ass sweater with a theme and everything

- He is an alcoholic(especially after his crash)

- Never got married or had children… until Lightning and Sally lmaooo

- He nearly started crying tears of joy when Lightning called him dad the first time

- He has several large burns and scars on his legs and lower back from the crash(like shit is really bad dude)

- His favorite movie is the original ghost busters

- He is a cat person

- He is a neat freak at heart yet gave up trying to clean out his garage because of all the bad memories

[ohtobeleah]

Jake and Iris make me feel things I’ve never felt before. The chemistry, the toxicity, the overall dynamic makes me sweat 🥵

I.R.I.S Masterlist

Brrooo, I had so much fun writing this one and I really got carried away because it’s over 5k long. So please enjoy.

Warning: Smut! Female receiving oral. Jake Seresin x Mitchell!reader. Undisclosed age gap.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Dad—cool your jets alright I said it’s not what it looks like.” You groaned as you hid your face in the palms of your hands as you kicked off the covers of your bed.  

“Iris….” Mav looked at you like he was ready to combust on the spot. The little vein near his temple had risen like it was about to pop. “What are you doing sleeping in Hangman's shirt?” 

You had to think fast on your feet with this one, but this wasn’t your first rodeo. Jake, unsurprisingly, wasn’t the first guy you’d fucked around with. What could you say? You had a thing for older guys. 

“I got pretty hammered the other night alright, shit happens and I threw up on my shirt, this must’ve just been the one I picked up from the lost and found bin at the Hard Deck.” You lied through your fucking teeth as you got out of bed. Mav just stood there speechless. “Must’ve got thrown in with the washing and just ended up in the pile on the chair.” You gestured to your clean washing pile you had yet to put away. “I got in pretty late last night, but if you’d rather me not keep it, I’ll give it back. You said it belongs to Jake right?” 

“No I said it belongs to your Lieutenant Commander, Iris, Lieutenant Commander Seresin—“ Mav corrected you. “He’s Jake to you when he’s over for family events, any other time he’s your superior, address him as such or at least as Hangman.” You just paused, you rolled your eyes as you collected some things for a shower. Underwear, jeans, a normal shirt that wasn’t Jakes. 

“Uh, but I quit the program Daddio.” You reminded your dad. “So realistically he’s not my superior, and I can call him Jack Shit if I wanted to.” 

“You did not quit, Mitchell’s don’t quit.” Pete replied, he was losing his cool and you could tell, but like father like daughter, so were you. “You don’t get to quit TopGun, you’re the top one percent and of this nation aviators Iris.” Pete thought reminding you of your remarkable skills would sway you into thinking twice about your decision. It didn’t. Not even in the slightest bit. 

“They do when the whole system is rigged!” You turned on your heels as you slammed the draw you’d been looking in for a belt. “They do when they’ve been capped dad!” 

“What are you talking about?” Pete just played as dumb as he possibly could, but he knew. Oh boy did he know what you were talking about. 

“Rooster told me what some of the guys said to the Admirals! He told me what they said they’d do if I was given an ounce of a shot at this—“ You’d have to call Bradley later and tell him to take the L. You couldn’t tell the truth but you couldn’t not confront your dad. You weren’t about to say, ‘Nah l heard what you said when I was under your desk with Jake's dick down my throat—‘ Were you? 

“Iris—“ 

“Why would you not tell me that? My own dad, the reason why I’m fucking stunted in my career! This is it for me dad.” You hissed. “I don’t get to go any further than this because I’ve got Pete fucking Mitchell goddamn DNA—“ 

“Enough, we’ll talk to Admiral Simpson—“ Pete’s heart ached inside his chest as he looked at you, his daughter, every ounce of him. He hadn’t always been there and hell he’d missed a lot. But he loved you, he loved your mother in some strange amicable way too. Enough that he never missed a child support payment, he even paid more than he was required. He sent birthday and holiday gifts, paid half your schooling fees and paid for your first car. But Pete knew no amount of money equated to time lost. “I agree, this whole thing isn’t fair.” He said softly. “And we’ll figure out a way to fix it.” 

“You can maybe but I’m not going shit.” You weren’t in the mood for this. You didn’t want to be told what to do, you weren’t a child and you weren’t in the wrong here. If you wanted to quit on your own terms you were going to. “I’m not the one who thinks so low of myself that I need to stunt others to gain notoriety, that’s fucking Rebound and his ugly ass personality.” You didn’t exactly know who had put in the complaints against you but if someone had held a gun to your head and asked you to take a wild guess, you knew your answer would be pretty accurate. “So if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna take a shower, make a coffee and enjoy my morning off because I. Fucking. Quit.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“You come to your senses finally?” Bradley asked as he flipped through his lesson plan. “Heard through the scuttlebutt yesterday that you dragged Iris into the Admirals office by her damn ear?” Jake's mind momentarily flashed to the events of last night, when he had you splayed out beneath him moaning his name. As he blinked back the X rated image he remembered he’d woken up alone, in a cold and empty bed he wished you were in. 

“She’s flunking on purpose because these guys are intimidated.” Jake looked at his own lesson plan as he lent on the table in the hanger turned makeshift classroom. “Someone had to pull her back in line.” 

“And that someone’s you?” Bradley asked, all Jake did was look at him confused. He was your teacher fisher and foremost, what else was he supposed to do? “Huh, you could’ve had me and everyone else fooled.” Bradley shrugged. “Heard you really gave it to the kid.” 

“Don’t call her a kid man.” Jake cringed. “God it makes me feel like I’m some kinda perv.” 

“You are a perv! You’re fucking Mavs daughter!” Bradley hissed. “On multiple occasions it seems? Jake, Have you actually stopped to think for a moment what will happen when he actually finds out? Because it’s gonna come out eventually and I’m gonna be so fucking far gone when it does man you won’t see the ass end of me.” 

“He’s not gonna find out, we’re keeping it casual.” Jake just shrugged it off, he couldn’t keep thinking about the what ifs when he was with you in the moment. He wanted to enjoy the time he had with you. Sneaking around, being discreet, if he kept thinking about your dad every time he was with you he was gonna form an unwanted association and Jake couldn’t have that. He’d almost lost you once and he wasn’t ready to give you up yet. “Casual and consensual Rooster, she might be Mavs daughter but she’s still an adult.” 

“Oi!” Just as Rooster and Hangman were about to start preparing their whiteboard, Mav was walking into the hangar with broad shoulders and a stirn glare. “Tweedle dee and dumbass!” 

“Who’s who?” Rooster asked through a laugh as he wrote up his status on the whiteboard, earning himself a smack in the back of the head. “Ow! The fuck Mav—?” 

“Thanks for telling Iris about the complaints some of her classmates made, Rooster.” Maverick just deadpanned Bradley, the guy had a few inches on Mav but he didn’t care. “She’s pissed off now and you of all people know how she gets when she’s pissed off!” It was true, Bradley Bradshaw was literally the closest thing you had to a brother, which meant when you were both a little younger, you in your teens and Bradley in his twenties— fought like cats and dogs.

“What are you even talking about?” Rooster asked as he looked at Jake who just kept writing on the board, he looked all kinds of guilty. “I—“ Rooster paused, what had you and Jake been up to that meant you had to lie and say that Rooster told you? He hadn’t checked his phone all morning but he regretted it now. “Did, yeah I did do that, sorry—she cornered me when I pulled a point or two when she was doing Hard Deck pull ups.” Jake let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as Bradshaw took the blame, he owed him—big time. 

“Well because she knows, apparently she quit the program.” Jake's heart sank from his chest into his ass. No you didn’t? You would’ve mentioned that last night. “I've gotta go talk to Cyclone about it now—this whole thing is a giant mess.” 

“Iris could probably still have this thing if she applied herself.” Jake hadn’t taken his eyes off of what he was writing. “She could fly circles around those losers with her eyes closed and hands tied behind her back.” Jake kinda wished he’d just said this to you yesterday instead of dragging you through the mud. The longer he thought about it, perhaps words of encouragement could have prevented you from taking an overly critical approach. “She’s a smart girl, but she’s your daughter, which means she’s just a stubborn as you so—“ 

Pete just fished the T-shirt he’d stuffed into the back of his jean pocket out and threw it Hangman's way. Jake caught it on his shoulder. He looked rather confused at the white material that cascaded down his shoulder. 

“She is smart, but she’s got her mothers rage.” Mav sighed. “Or stupidity, I’m not sure, but she damn near gave me a heart attack this morning when I went into her room and saw her sleeping in that shit.” Jake took the shirt from his shoulder to investigate, he could feel the heat sweeping across his face as he realised that you must have accidentally picked up his prized Hangman shirt after he’d discarded it last night. You know, before he fucked the shit out of you. “Wanna tell me why my daughter was sleeping in your shirt? Jacob?”

“I uh—“ Jake was panicking, Mav could tell. He was onto whatever was going on here he just couldn’t tell what exactly it was or to what extent it had gone. Did he believe your little lost and found story? No. Not in the slightest bit. “I couldn’t tell you man I haven’t seen this thing for a while.” Jake chuckled out, rubbing the back of his head as he thumbed at the cotton fabric. “Thought I’d lost it? How’d Iris end up with it?” 

“She said she thinks she got it out of the Lost and Found box at the Hard Deck?” 

“That checks—“ Rooster mumbled as Jake sent him a look. “Honest, she was a mess a few nights ago. She’s lucky I didn’t kick her out of the Bronco when she threatened to spew her guts up on my dash.” It was all fabricated. Bradley didn’t know why he was jumping to Jake’s defense when the evidence was literally in the palm of his hands. But today was not the day to be down an instructor—so if anything Bradley took it upon himself to make sure Jake Seresin could live to breathe another breath for his own selfish reasons. “What, you think they’re fucking or something Mav?” 

At that moment Jake forgot how to breathe when Pete Mitchell starred directly into Jake's soul. Just waiting for him to crack. 

“I haven’t figured that out yet, but if they are? Just know it doesn’t bode well in your favour, Hangman—“ 

“I would never touch your daughter Mav, it’s Iris.” Jake cringed like you were beneath him, like it was an insult to his character that he’d stoop so low. That’s he’d be that dumb. “She’s basically a kid—“ Bradley couldn’t believe what he was hearing, blowing air into his cheeks as he turned back to hide his face against the whiteboard as Mav continued eyeing off Jake. “You know I wouldn’t, and the fake I haven’t seen this shirt in weeks just adds up. Iris got it outta the lost and found, thanks for returning it.” 

As Jake spoke complete and utter lies, all he could hear was your soft moans and delicate whimpers. He could feel your nails dragging into the muscles that littered the expanse of his back and after last night? The track marks you’d left began to throb with anxiety. 

“Yeah—“ Mav sighed, tapping Jake on the arm a few times. “Yeah I guess you’re right, sorry, I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.” 

“No hard feelings.” Jake just replied, he just wanted this conversation to be over so he couldn’t put his foot in it any further. 

The second Pete turned his back Jake went weak in the knees. Bradley’s eyes widened with endless questions and queries. But he settled on just one. 

“What exactly were you and Iris doing that she had to throw me under the bus like that?” Jake didn’t respond right away, he was still trying to process the fake he was rock fucking solid. The idea of Mav threatening him for being any way shape or form involved with you had him going feral. 

Jake liked it, and he thought maybe, just maybe, he even loved you. 

“You want the truth?” 

“Probably not—“ Immediately, Bradley regretted asking. “Nope, I actually don’t want to be any more of an accomplice than I already am.” Jake just grinned like a Cheshire Cat. Looking Bradley up and down before he spilled the very R rated and inappropriate beans. 

“She was under Mavs desk, with my dick in h—“ Bradley couldn’t let Jake finish before he was covering his ears like a child. 

“Oh my god! No shut up, I can’t know that!” He shoved his fingers in his ears and looked away. He couldn’t think of you like that, his little sister. He knew Jake was a goner, a deadman walking but Rooster was too. An accomplice to Jake's own stupidity. “No la la la la— I can’t fucking hear you!” 

“You asked!!” Jake laughed to himself. “You asked what we were doing!” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~*

Later that same day, Jake was heading to your place during his lunch hour. It was only a five minute drive from base on a good day. He should have known better than to rock up unannounced, but the line between appropriate and inappropriate behaviour was becoming far too blurry to really focus his moral compass. 

“Iris?” Jake knocked damn well knowing you weren’t going to answer—if Mav had been right about anything it was that when you were in a foul mood you were sour. Jake’s presence probably wasn’t going to make your mood any less aggravated. “Iris open up!” 

To Jake’s surprise, you answered. You couldn’t have reefed the door open any harder if you tried as Jake stood there taking in the sight of you. Clad in nothing but a little black bikini and Prada Milano sunglasses. Looking over them up at Jake as you tilted your gaze to look above where they sat on the bridge of your nose. 

“Can I help you?” 

“The fuck does Mav mean you quit the TopGun program? Are you mentally deficient or something!?” Jake pushed past you in the doorway, barreling in as his rage consumed him. “God you’ve done a lot of dumb shit recently Iris but quitting TopGun? That’s career suicide—“ You didn’t answer, you simply stood there, raising an eyebrow as you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose. 

“If those guys, Krod and P:E and fucking Rebound are the Navy’s top one percent than I send my hopes and prayers to their families—“ You explained as you walked your way out towards the back deck. “They’ll be burying the bastards sooner rather than later and I for one, will be there to say they should’ve worked a little harder for their titles instead of manipulating the system in their favour.” 

Jake hated to see you leave, but he loved to watch you walk away, your bikini bottoms left very little to his imagination.

“Now if you’ll excuse me Hangman, I was enjoying the sun and a nice glass of scotch before you rudely showed up at my dads house unannounced.” You turned, sinking a hand on your popped hip. “So unless you have someone interesting to say I’d shut the hell up and leave before dear old daddy comes home and finds you here, tainting his only daughter’s innocence.” Jake went to speak, he wanted to laugh and call your bluff and tell you how fucking stupid you were being. But you cut him off as he held his tongue and clenched his jaw. “And yeah—I can tell you to shut the hell up because you aren’t my superior anymore, stings knowing you’re the one who pushed me over the goddamn edge by dragging my ass into Admiral Simpson's office for that write up huh?” 

“Oh don’t act like me doing my job had anything to do with the fact you were looking for an excuse to give up!” Jake shouted as he followed you out onto the back porch. “By the sounds of things you’d already made up your mind before I even decided you’d crossed the line between brat and insubordination.” You let Jake finish his rant before you looked at him with sinful eyes. Eyeing him up and down. Was there anything he didn’t look good in? 

“What are you even doing here?” You asked through a sigh as you sat back down on the lounge chair you’d been posted up in the sun on before Jake arrived. Enjoying your day off. “Because I know you didn’t just come here to berate me for my decision to quit—you could’ve done that when I came to collect my stuff, you didn’t need to make a personal house call.” Despite wanting to pull you up by the hair on your head and drag you back to base himself, Jake just continued to undress you with his eyes as he undid the zip on his flight suit. Standing in your direct sunlight as he did so just to piss you off. “Jake, don’t be a pest fucking move your old ass—“ 

As Jake’s cock twitched against the fabric of his boxer briefs, undressing the very little clothing that covered you, he hatched a plan—a rather simple plan to have you biting your tongue and dragging your ass back to TopGun. 

“I actually came to talk about last night.” He admitted, shimmying the arms off his body as he tied them around his waist. “I wanted to ask if you really meant what you said, about wanting more.” 

“I don’t want shit from you if you’re gonna come in here ranting and raving about my problems and how I choose to deal with them.” You mumbled, pretending that you weren’t interested as Jake sank to his knees before you on the sun lounge. “But, if you must know, I wouldn’t technically be opposed to the idea of this being more than just sex, because unfortunately I’m hot for teacher.” You smirked as Jake grinned ear to ear at you as he sauntered up and hovered over you. Taking your lips hostage in a slow and sensual kiss that had you forgetting how to breathe for a second before he pulled away. 

“I came here on my lunch break you know—“ You pretended to care, looking around as if you were trying to spot something. “What?” 

“I didn’t see you bring anything with you?” You winked as you winded your legs. Looking up at Jake as he hovered over you. “You might just have to go hungry there, teach.” Jake caught your intentions as he lowered himself down between your legs. His dangerously dark, lust filled eyes never left yours as he did so. Dropping lower and lower till he was at eyeline with your just barely clothes cunt. 

“I think I’ve got a pretty delectable meal right in front of me darlin—“ Jake purred as he spread your legs a little wider, drinking in the sight of your core nearly hanging out of those little black bikini bottoms. “And I’m absolutely ravished.” You snapped your knees together just as Jake slowly made his way forward, just scraping the tip of his nose as you giggled wildly. 

“Too bad, it’s gonna cost ya.” You taunted, biting on your bottom lip as you eyed Jake off and spread your legs apart before him again, watching with awe as the crimson hume that crept across Jake's cheeks grew brighter and brighter with every passing second. “Walking Propaganda Poster Boys who pray on women half their age from conservative Texan families pay extra too.” Jake was speechless as you dragged him through the mud, the sad thing was it turned him on. 

Perhaps Bradley was right from the get go—Jake Seresin had a thing for degradation. 

“What’s a dining experience at the Iris Inn gonna cost me?” Jake growled as he slowly dragged the tip of his index finger up your calf and to your inner thigh. “Name your price—“ You hissed when Jake took the little string that kept your bottoms tied together and snapped it back against your hip. 

“Ah—“

“Words Iris, use that bratty mouth of yours and tell me what it’s gonna cost.” Jake looked at you with lust filled eyes that had never been darker, keeping his trail to your core right on schedule as his fingers grazed the fabric that clothed your core. “I ain’t got all day Iris.” 

“Your entire career, deadman.” You softly gasped as the pad of Jake's thumb danced softly over the fabric of your bikini bottoms, making your sensitive bundle of nerves ignite. “Ohhh—maybe even that won’t cover it.” 

“Guess we’ll have to find out won’t we?” Jake asked as he pulled back the fabric of your bikini to reveal your soaked pussy. “Huh, you really get off on the idea of me going straight to hell for all this don’t you?” 

“I touch myself to the thought of it every night.” You admitted as a wicked smile crept across your face. Jake chuckled to himself, he was a goner. “Touch myself thinking about all the ways I’ll ruin your life and I cum so hard when I remember you want me to.” 

“Fucking hell Iris you’d make the strongest of men weak.” Jake sighed as he crept closer and dragged you forward to his face, sinking his teeth into your inner thigh as you unfit the sides of your bikini. “You’re poison—“ 

“And yet you keep coming back for more—“ You would always beat Jake at his own game, he knew his fate and accepted it. He kissed up your inner thigh slowly before finally landing right where you wanted him, where you needed him. Against your core in a feaverish moment of sudden ecstasy. “Oh fuck—!” Jake kissed and sucked against your glistening core, drinking in the taste of your nectar. 

He’s been right, oh how you were a delectable meal and such a cuisine that was surely exclusive to the most exclusive restaurants. You were soft and sweet and all things in between as Jake looked up at you as he flicked his tongue against your clit. Reveling in the jolts of electricity he knew washed through your body whenever he flicked up. 

“Jake—“ You sighed out as you let all your thoughts go. “Fuck baby feels so good.” You told him as you reached back to untie your bikini top, Jake watched through dark hooded eyes as he made you his lunch. His heart danced inside his chest at the sight before him, you peeled off your black bikini top to expose yourself fully in the backyard of your dads house. You knew what you were doing to him and Jake fucking loved it. “Eat my pussy Jake, just like that—“ 

“You taste so fucking sweet Iris, so sinful.” Jake growled as he pulled away, reaching up to coax two of his digits into your mouth. He paused at your bottom lip, deciding that to ask you to open would give you far too much power and if Jake knew anything about you it was that you had a power complex. So as Jake gripped at your chin and looked at you with stirn eyes—he told you what to do. 

“Open.” And do it you did, without hesitation. Welcoming the two chosen digits into your mouth as you hummed and swirled your tongue around and gripped at your own tits. “Fuck Iris—“ Jake was about three point five seconds from ruining his flight suit. He had a Hop after lunch. “Good girl.” Jake praised you as he pulled his dripping digits from your mouth and slowly and ever so carefully, guided them past your dripping lips into your core. Stretching you to a nice full feeling as you arched your back and squeezed your tits all for Jake to watch as he got you off. 

“Ohh, Ohh fuck Hangman—-“ Jake had never really been a fan of the calllsign Bradley gave him all those years ago. It was more of a personal attack on him and their once strained friendship than a nod to his personality, his professionalism. But as it dripped from your mouth like a siren song, Jake found a new reason to love it. “Jake fuck—feels so good, oh god.” 

You sounded like every sin Jake had ever had. Vocalised into a reality playing out before him as he ducked his head back down to suck a pressure out of this world against your sensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing his fingers up against your velvet walls to create a feeling so pure and intense it had you singing out his name into the heavens above. Surely neither of you would be granted access after this. You’d both be sent straight to hell. 

“Ahhhh fuck yes! Yes Jake!” You moaned out as you rolled your hips to grind against Jake's face as he lapped away at your cunt. His chin glistening with your arousal as he worked to finger fuck you. Drinking up all that you could give him. 

“So fucking pretty aren’t you Iris.” Jake mumbled against your core as he buried his fingers to the hilt. “So pretty and gorgeous and fucking irritating—“ Jake moved to mark your inner thighs with love bites and bruises that would linger on your supple skin for days to come. “I’ll make you a deal.” 

“Fuck off—“ You knew what was coming as Jake slowly moved back to your core, soft kitten like licks against your clit nearly had you breaking as you whimpered and whined and arched your spine. “Jake, I’m close! So fucking close.” It was the smirk that gave it away, the devilish, oh so endearing shit eating grin Jake sent you as he pumped his fingers inside you, hitting just the right spot to send you hurtling towards the edge of insanity. “JAKE! Oh Christ! Aauugghh—“ You were so close it hurt. “Please, please I wanna cum for you daddy.” 

You saw the look in Jake's eye when you called him that. He hated that he loved it. He’d never been a ‘daddy’ guy. But with you? It felt right in the worst kind of im fucking your daughter way. 

“Say you’ll come back to TopGun and I’ll make you cum Iris.” Jake mumbled as he sucked against your cunt. Curling his fingers up inside you in a come hither motion. “I promise baby, say you’ll come back and ruin those fuckers and I’ll make you cum so hard you’ll forget everything but my name.” 

“You're a bastard!” Jake raised a hand to grip at your throat, applying just enough pressure on the sides of your neck to have your head spinning as you gasped and tried to hold onto whatever sanity, whatever control you had as your orgasm barreled towards you. “You—you fucking bastard.” 

“Is that a yes?” Jake grinned as he lapped away at your throbbing bundle of nerves. “Say it Iris.” He growled as the tips of his fingers hit just the right spot with enough force to send you flying towards the sun. You couldn’t hold it even if you wanted to, which you didn’t. 

“Ahhhh yes! Yes alright, alright you son of a bitch I’ll come back! just make me—“ You didn’t even need to finish your sentence and Jake was sucking against your clit so perfectly it had you arriving at your very dirty destination. “Ahh—oh god ahhhhh FUCK!” 

Jake, in all his years had never heard such a beautiful sound. You always managed to surprise him every time you came. Everytime your body trembled at his touch, everytime your jaw hung slack as your eyes rolled and beautiful whimpers and moans and sighs of relief escaped in their droves. Releasing your neck from his hold just as your pushy fluttered around his now soaked digits.

“Oh my god you’re such an ass Seresin.” You sighed as Jake lapped the last of your sweet sweet nectar from your dripping cunt up all for himself before he rose up to take your lips hostage with yours. 

“I gotta get going, thanks for lunch.” He mumbled as you enjoyed tasting yourself of his tongue. “I’ll see you later though when you come to reclaim your throne Mitchell.” You just rolled your eyes as Jake dropped his head, taking each of your nipples in his mouth one at a time before he pulled up and away. “Seeya soon—“ 

“What if you don't?” You called out, watching as Jake left you on the outdoor lounge chair to soak up the rest of the midday sun. Jake didn’t even look back over his shoulder to address you but you knew good and well he was smirking as you flipped him off. 

“I will.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“What’cha have for lunch Hangman?” Mav asked as he caught Jake in his peripheral vision. “You weren’t in the Rec room?” 

“Nah I ate out today—“ Jake smirked, god he was going to hell. The only Heaven he’d be sent to, was when he’s alone with you. 

Later that same afternoon about an hour or so after Jake had left, you sauntered on into the hanger you knew your dad would be in. Doing whatever it was that he did between his lessons. Low and behold Jake Seresin had been right. 

“Hi honey.” Pete beamed, Bradley stood beside Maverick with a curious smirk on his face. Stupid mustache, hiding his upper lip. “I see you changed your mind?” Jake stood leaning against one of the empty desks. His arms nearly bulging out of black T adorning his stupidity perfect body. 

“Yeah well—“ You sighed as you took your aviators off and placed them into the neck of your shirt. You were just in a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. Nothing fancy. Nothing too extreme for your meeting with Admiral Simpson. “You can either chock it up to downright stupidity—“ You paused, tucking your hands into the back pockets of your jeans as you watched Jake wink at you from behind your fathers shoulder. “Or post nut clarity.” 

“IRIS!!” Pete scolded you as Bradley’s jaw hit the ground in second hand embarrassment as Jake's face turned a bright shade of crimson. 

“My god, she’s your fucking daughter—“ Rooster sighed as he tried to scrub the last five seconds from his memory bank.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

[withgreatpowercomesmyfuckingdick]

Hi! Imma do something rare and actually make content, but its 11 at night and i just had a brain worm

for those of you that don’t know, i work at an accounting office. we do taxes. it is tax season. and now im thinking abt how AGSZC does taxes and what their papers are like and im inflicting it on the rest of you even if its gibberish

Angeal: A godsend. Keeps his forms in order and filed properly, calculates everything else himself like a good man. Papers honestly aren’t too bad, maybe 10-12 just because of his career/insurance plus his doubtless donations to charity, but aside from that. straightforward and done at his kitchen table

Genesis: A fucking NIGHTMARE. no doubt pays someone else to do it. and for fucks sake, i know he invests. constantly and consistently and probably in anything he thinks stands the slightest chance against shinra on the market. his 1099-B is a mess and definitely Not Totaled, so his is the bullshit you have to insert one. investment. at. a time. He’s the type that keeps fucking calling too, I can just tell. but, aside from the 1099-B, he’s probably got simple stuff as well. probably several 1099-INTs from several different bank accounts, maybe a couple 1098s floating around from vacation houses or some shit.

Sephiroth: Does his own. In ridiculously early. Makes almost no personal purchases so hardly has anything to pay. I can’t imagine not having a last name or not knowing his birthday doesn’t end up a legal problem somehow, so he likely has to walk directly into a damn tax office to say hey this is me and this is my shit no, someone isn’t stealing my identity. has one singular document and it’s his W-2. Which is. Fucking astronomical. Like, the number doesn’t even look right. His paycheck as a SOLDIER isn’t taxed, so he doesn’t really get much back on his refund. The only first without a healthcare /insurance form because why tf would Sephiroth have healthcare? What’s he gonna do, get sick?

not getting into how doing his own taxes was definitely a fight between him and Hojo at some point and ended up getting hashed out in a board room. Hojo didn’t like him having the autonomy of filing for himself instead of being claimed ad Hojo’s ‘dependent’. Sephiroth deadass threatened to go to court abt it. The President told Hojo to suck it up so they didn’t have to deal with scandal, Hojo wouldn’t tell Seph his birthday to be difficult, and here we are

Zack: Panicking. Late. Doesn’t know if his forms came in the mail, doesn’t know where he put them most of the time. Scrambles around for a fuck ton of receipts, ultimately has to request Shinra send him his shit again. DEFINITELY pays someone else to do it. W-2, 1095-A, 1099-C(s)(he has several debts i can feel it i love him but he screams bad financial decisions), probably some shit for his bike too. He customs it so I can see him listing some parts he buys for it as work expenses. Jokingly puts some money he gave aerith for flowers and what he spent to make her wagon as donations to charity and it actually goes through because the church is still considered a legal entity. Definitely has to pay late fees.

Cloud: Pays Tifa to do it. Filing for both of them is a nightmare cause all their shit burnt in Nibelheim, so once Edge gets right with the WRO they have to do all their paperwork from scratch and get reassigned SSNs. He genuinely has a fuckton of paperwork from doing the Strife Delivery Service. Luckily, only ‘employee’ he has is Tifa, and even then she doesn’t do things regularly aside from pick up the phone. Doesn’t make his business an LLC until he’s literally forced to due to his number of clients and someone trying to sue him for damages. 1099-NEC for TIfa for sure, then once he’s an LLC, some yearly maintenance to keep legal. Mileage and gas expenses go CRAZY on his self employment form, I fucking bet. I bet Cloud’s handwriting is shit tho. Tifa’s at her desk counting up his gains and losses for fucking ages because his fives look too similar to sixes. Eventually she wrangles him into installing some shit on his phone that counts it up, if only to cure her headache. Funnily enough, he does get veteran benefits from what’s left of Shinra’s shit, reparations of sorts, but he doesn’t keep it. All goes to charity, so that ends up in the books too.

alright, that was unnecessarily in depth and way longer than i planned. good night LMAO

[restinslices]

We going fluffy for a lil? YAY! Can I request EarthRealm guys being dads for the first time?

This is longer than what the Earthrealm guys typically get. Usually they all get around 200 words because writing for them takes longer because it’s 5, but this was so cute I got carried away and they all got around 400-500 words😀

Johnny Cage

A mini Cage? Are you serious? 

Can I be honest with y'all? I think this kid would be an accident 

Because of that he'd be nervous. Johnny has a huge ego but he also has huge debt and a dwindling career so he'd be worried about how he'd even take care of this child 

He'd work extremely hard to get more money. He'd even sell his house to get a smaller one that's more affordable (that's how you know he's serious)

He covers his nervousness with humor. This is a whole human he's gonna be raising now

The closer the delivery date gets, the more nervous he gets. His partner moves a little weird and he's “IT'S COMING!”

Calm down Johnny. Damn. 

The entire delivery he's jumpy as fuck. He didn't realize how long it'd take and his nerves are through the roof 

Does Johnny have a huge ego? Yes. Is he an asshole? Yes. Does he make everything a joke? Yes. But this is different. There's a human that's relying on him to survive 

Everytime he looks at the baby he's like “oh shit, I got a baby”

Baby accidents actually make him cringe. His baby vomits on him and he has to physically stop himself from throwing it 

Johnny as a girl dad? Omg. 

That's his little princess. Any money he makes goes to her. She has so many unnecessary toys and he dresses her like an actual princess 

The baby got its own room from jump 

He'll never be against a tea party or a makeover 

During those makeovers he's giving pointers. “Don't use that color, it'll clash with my hair” type of shit 

Be prepared. No matter how hard you try, this kid is becoming a mini Johnny 

He tries to be really active in her life when he's not acting 

Has debated on retiring but you need money so that's not happening 

You'd think he'd want his kid to become an actor but he knows that shit is not safe so absolutely not 

He makes little films with her though. Really cute shit he'll rewatch when she's older 

Time to him goes by so fast. He feels like he blinked and suddenly she was 18 

He's the dad that gets emotional at her graduation. Straight sobbing as she walks the stage

“I'm a cool dad” *puts on shades*

Ok Johnny 

His ability to not take shit serious doesn’t entirely disappear. He’s the parent the child wants the principal to call when in trouble

Little fashion shows? Absolutely

His kid is so spoiled, it's ridiculous. Even if he didn't want a child, he loves them with every part of him 

Kenshi Takahashi 

Another accident baby-

He's trying to fix this whole clan situation so a baby is not something he was thinking of

So when he's told he's gonna have a baby his heart stops for a quick second 

Being terrified is a normal reaction and trust me, he's terrified 

He doesn't know how to be a dad at all and videos aren't helping 

I know I mention this whole on the run from the Yakuza thing a lot but that's a big ass problem. How do you have a baby when mfs are gunning for you?

Why does he agree to keep it? I ain't think that far but anywho, it's too late now. Too far along-

He tries to prepare himself by looking up videos and reading books. He wants to be an amazing dad for his baby 

We don't know how his parents were but I'm assuming his childhood wasn't the best

He promised himself that he's gonna care for this baby and give it a fantastic childhood 

Idk how his vision works now tbh. I'm assuming he can always see so I'm guessing that's not a problem 

Once the baby is here he's all over it. You'd think he gave birth with how much he's playing with it 

I wanna make all of them girl dads tbh and I'm the one writing this soooooo that's what imma do-

Kenshi is making sure everyone is comfortable. His partner and the baby. He's gonna help anyway he can

Having a tiny human depend on him is definitely a wild concept to him

He wants to teach his daughter how to fight but he doesn't want to make her a monster if that makes sense 

He wants to make sure she never uses her skills to harm others for no reason and because of that, any school reports about violence is taken seriously 

Let that school call him and he's asking 20 questions tryna see who the aggressor was. If his daughter was being harassed and she defended herself  then as long as someone wasn't seriously hurt then it's ok. If his daughter was the aggressor? Oh nah

Kenshi is not afraid to lecture and discipline (I don't mean whooping. Whether or not you think any of them would is up to you. I'm not getting into that. Be free) his daughter 

His kid is never walking all over him. He don't let them slide with shit 

He's harsh but it's in a loving way. He's not on her ass for no reason. He wants her to conduct herself well and to be a good person and better than the people he's been surrounded by. He carries this out by being a bit more harsh and strict than he needs to be

That teenage rebellion phase is gonna kick his ass. Omg

He's strict but I don't think he'd be unsafe for his daughter to go to, yk? His daughter knows she can go to him if she needs anything 

If she felt like she couldn't tell him something, his poor little heart would break

I don't think he'd ever take his bandana off around them. Idk how the healing would work but I could imagine it'd still look brutal 

So protective of her. Let someone move towards her a little quick, he's on his feet before he even realizes it 

He doubts his parenting at time and how safe he can keep her but he's doing a really solid job 

Kung Lao

Idk whether or not his baby would be an accident or not 

Either way, Kung Lao has a huge ego and he'd assume it can't be that bad 

He definitely can figure all this out as he goes along. It'll be easy. Nothing to worry about 

He wishes he could go back in time and smack himself for being so stupid 

At first it's fine, then he remembers he has to consistently deal with a baby and he's like “I may have miscalculated”

Why do babies shit so much? They're so small. 

Terrible Twos have him stressed 

When the baby's teething he slowly starts to lose his grasp on reality. All the yelling drives him nuts but he's locked in now 

He tries to use his baby as a challenge to keep him motivated but honestly babe, you're never winning that challenge. Babies are unpredictable 

He has to learn that. Babies are a learning experience and you can't try to use them as some great challenge. Just relax and take things one at a time 

He also teaches his baby how to fight 

Makes them a mini hat but puts something non sharp on the edges, like crayons or something 

Some may think “oh a daughter! She has to be feminine and sweet and blahblahblah!”

Nah, that's now how it works with him

His daughter is learning some Leon Kennedy moves 

After what he's been through he's definitely teaching them how to fight because conflict will always happen. You're never catching his daughter slipping 

The dad that asks “did you win?” if his child gets in trouble for fighting at school 

Let's his child watch scary movies 

He's never doing that bullshit again. She was up all night and he's never regretted anything more 

The type to “randomly” decide to sharpen his hat when his daughter brings a boy over 

“What are you doing dad?” “I'm sharpening my sharp hat that's sharp enough to cut through humans… because it's so sharp”

Puts “The Great” in front of her name whenever describing her 

His daughter probably has a huge ego also. This dude does not teach her to be humble and compliments her when she does anything 

You think a mini Johnny is bad? Mini Kung Lao gives them a run for their money. 

Raiden

I feel like Raiden would have kids when he's older. Idk why but I think he'd be way more careful than everyone else 

So when he hears he's having a baby, he's both nervous and excited 

He's on it. Decorating the nursery, reading books, looking at websites, he's on it all. 

He wants to be prepared so he doesn't mess up 

Messing up is inevitable but don't tell him that 

Once the baby is here, he's super happy. The room is already decorated and he's so glad they can lay in there 

Super affectionate towards his baby. Constantly kissing her head and playing with her 

If any of the other Earthrealm men have a baby, he insists on playdates 

Even if they don't, he plays with his daughter enough 

The type to actually make his voice higher when playing with dolls

Gives his kid cute nicknames that they'll undoubtedly get embarrassed by when they're older 

Are we surprised he also teaches his daughter to fight? No. 

He was minding his business and was told he had to help protect Earthrealm. His kid gotta know how to scrap 

He keeps a good balance of combat and normal childhood so it's fine 

He does little lightning shows for his kid. Is it irresponsible? A little. Is Liu Kang gonna take it back though? No. 

Raises a daughter similar to him; soft spoken and sweet but is willing to throw down when necessary 

He's the parent that genuinely hears his kid out when they get in trouble 

Since this is his first kid he's new to all of this so making mistakes is something that'll happen. Good thing about Raiden tho is that he's willing to apologize when family conflict happens 

He takes so many pictures, it's ridiculous 

Takes pictures the entire first week of school and is spamming Kung Lao with them

He's really invested in child drama ngl. A kid threw a book at another kid? Tell him more so he can gossip with Kung Lao

Discipline is difficult for him because he honestly doesn't know what to do. He's worried he's being too harsh and doesn't wanna push his kid away. It's common knowledge that they'll grow up, move away and he won't see her as much so he doesn't want to push them away and lose them earlier than necessary 

Kids need some sort of discipline though so he gotta figure it out 

When his daughter no longer needs him to check the closet for monsters, his heart might shatter a little bit ngl 

He's taking it one step at a time and honestly? He's doing really good 

Liu Kang

Probably didn't even know he could have kids

He just assumed a keeper of time was outta the game so wdym a baby is on the way?

Liu Kang has watched humans evolve so he's watched plenty of parents raise their babies so he has a lot of references 

He's not as nervous as everyone else. Like I said before, he has plenty of references of what to and what not to do so he's pretty confident in his abilities 

He's only nervous about the threats they'll face once they're alive. Man is used to fighting for his life 

Decorates the nursery and child proofs the entire house 

Makes sure his partner is incredibly comfortable. He wants them completely relaxed 

He packs the bag for when the delivery happens, he doesn't leave the room unless necessary, he's really supportive. 

Once the baby is here he's lowkey hogging the baby 

Thinks his partner should be relaxing after so the baby is always in his arms 

This baby to him is the most precious thing he's ever seen. Having a family is something he really wants so he's on cloud 9

Watching over his kid to see if they get any powers like him, which is likely 

Liu Kang has a good balance between discipline and softness. He's not super strict but he doesn't just let them get away with anything 

Imma sound like a broken record but his daughter is scraping. This is Liu Kang we're talking about 

His daughter is gonna become Gamora-

Fighting skills will be impeccable. Say excuse me if you bump into her or she's going 2 back flips, lighting her body on fire and blowing the area up 

He wants to spend so much time with his daughter. He knows how fast time flies. He's seen humans not appreciate each other and that's not happening with him. His daughter will know she's loved 

He has references like I said earlier but that doesn't mean it's the easiest to do. He tries his hardest though and is probably the most patient

He's more excited for the firsts than they are. This is not your first day of school Liu Kang, why are you so geeked?

Tons of photos of his baby 

Other dads can be really stressed when it comes to their kid growing up but I think he's more accepting of it. Is it sad seeing his baby grow up? Yes. He's used to the idea of aging though. Also his kid is immortal like him so he's comforted by the idea of them never growing older than him 

Liu Kang is a parent that is 100% ok with admitting when he's wrong. There's no toxic shit with him. If he fucked up, he fucked up. 

Probably has the most or one of the most humble kids 

Very affectionate 

Probably wants more kids 

10/10 dad and imma stand on it

“Forgive me Kenshi. I misspoke.” Liar.

I always ramble at the end of these so here I go: y’all I am out of dry dog food and I’m broke so I can’t pay my sister to get food from her job so I’ve been feeding my dog wet food, right. It is 3am, so naturally we’re not on a walk rn. Why did she drop the most devastating shit? I actually wanna walk into traffic. I did not know it could be audible. She didn’t even eat anything before she did it. Donate to $JMentallyUnstable for my cause😔 (I’m joking but not about my suffering. She’s small. HOW is a felony coming outta you bro?) (If I find a tall building-)

[angelsanarchy]

Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 30

Tagging: @ophelialaufey @madamemaximoff06 @forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27 @shroomje

Oystein got home and could tell something with Y/n was off. He had heard bits and pieces from Hellhammer but Y/n was adamant that she didn't want him to do anything about it. He knew Y/n wasn't afraid of him but he knew Varg was a violent person with a short temper. The last thing he wanted was for her to set him off by showing no fear. He thrived on shit like that.

He had called Varg and asked him to meet with him to discuss the album and when he caught sight of him, he tossed the copy of Kerrang on the table in front of him.

"You know this is bullshit right?" Varg sat down clearly pissed.

"What are you talking about? You're on the fucking cover? What else could you ask for?" Oystein asked confused.

"Your name is all over the thing. You didn't want any of this going to the press, I took it there and it's just another thing you get to take credit for like you're the brains of this whole thing." Varg's disdain for Oystein had grown so much in such a short time, he knew that whatever he said would only make things more hostile.

"Look, I didn't ask you here to argue about pointless things. I wanted to-"

"I'm going to release my own music on my own label." Varg cut him off.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Oystein asked.

"It means I don't need you anymore. You'll have to find some other idiot to steal from." Varg pressed. Oystein shook his head at him.

"I haven't stolen anything from you Varg." Varg started ranting about the money that was used to make Mayhem's album and Oystein pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He knew the money panned out in the end with having Varg join the band but it was pointless to try and sort things out at this point.

"You know what? I think that's a great idea. I think you should release your music on your own label, you want to quit Mayhem, that's fine. We can finish the album on our own and even kick you out some of the profit from what you've already put into." Oystein folded his hands in front of him and Varg shook his head.

"You're such a sellout." Varg chuckled.

"What else do you want from me man? You're getting everything you want-"

"I want for people to know that you are a poser. I want people to know that the so called creator of pure Norwegian Black Metal betrayed it with his bullshit lies and deceit." Varg's words were harsh but Oystein knew he didn't care what Varg thought of him.

"I want your whole world to burn to the ground and people to see you for who you truly are. A weak, pathetic hack who profited off the death of his friend and is run around by the cock on a leash by some Itzig." Varg spoke with such disgust about him but it wasn't until he mentioned Pelle and Y/n that he felt himself grinding his teeth and clenching his fists.

"I know what you said to her and that's the end of it. You want to come after me, tell people I'm some piece of shit poser, go ahead. But you approach Y/n again, you so much as breathe on her and I'll kill you myself." Oystein spoke softly so the people around them couldn't hear but Varg laughed.

"Just because you boasted like you puppeteered your little buddy Pelle into blowing his brains out, doesn't mean you've got even an ounce of killer in you, Oystein." He mocked. It was becoming increasingly hard to maintain his emotions.

"You want to see the killer in me, keep it up. There's only one thing in this world that I would kill for and that's Y/n. I will do whatever it takes to protect her, even if that means sitting in a cell next to you for arson. You can believe that above everything that's ever come out of my mouth." He held Varg's gaze and he knew that Oystein was serious. He didn't fear him but he knew that he had the capability to end his career before it even started if he ended up in prison for the church fires.

"Well I hope you're also willing to die for her as much as you say you would kill for her." Varg pushed away from the table and left the magazine and the necklace he had given him when he first joined the band sitting on the table. Oystein watched him leave with his hood up, making sure no one saw his face and he sighed. He felt a little bit of the weight lift off of his shoulders. He felt like he had just broken up with someone but that someone hated his guts and wished nothing but the worst for him.

Oystein pulled his wallet out and looked at the picture he had put in there of himself, Pelle and Y/n the first night he wore the corpse paint. He felt a pang in his heart for those times. Everything seemed so much easier then. He wished he could go back and change things. He felt himself getting emotional and jumped up from the table, grabbing the magazine and necklace and trashing them on his way out of the restaurant.

[luvtonique]

I just woke up and I chose violence let's go.

Look all I'm sayin' is

If you're gonna attack AI generative art

You should, for the same reason, attack Toby Fox.

The reason I've seen the most for people not liking AI is that it's not "Real art" and that it "Takes jobs from artists" and that it "Steals from other artists"

Well, then, let's talk about how Hopes and Dreams by Toby Fox uses fake Violins to mimic a symphony orchestra. Toby could have hired a real orchestra but he used a fake one and y'all came in your drawers over it.

Why'd nobody ever lift a finger to cover social media in how Toby Fox doesn't deserve to make money because his song "Undertale" uses a fake guitar that sounds just like a real one? He could have hired a musician to play guitar but he didn't! That cost a REAL guitar player a job, didn't it?

And how come when it was found out that Toby Fox stole entire lietmotifs from other games like Kirby n shit, y'all had like 600,000,000 excuses to defend him?

I don't dislike Toby I think he's amazing, like 100/10, one'a the brightest examples of a success story of all time and one of the nicest most pure-hearted people on earth who made two of my favorite games of all time and a ton of my favorite music. Spider Dance has been my ring tone for like 8 years.

I'm just saying, the literal same reasons I see people attacking AI gen art is shit that Toby does, all of it, and y'all worship Toby for it but attack artists.

And neither here nor there, but hear me out?

Y'all will say you're in defense of artists keeping their jobs and their livelihoods which is so very noble of you, but if an artist draws shortstacks that are just a little too short, or if an artist utilizes AI, or if an artist draws Rose Quartz skinny, or if an artist draws Sans and Frisk getting a little too Frisky, or if an artist votes for Trump, or if an artist says a dirty word you don't like, or if an artist draws a black person that looks just a little bit too stereotypical, or if an artist draws a lesbian character getting fucked, or if an artist doesn't believe in gender identities, or if an artist doesn't put trans characters in their graphic novel, or if an artist makes a sexy character with butt-jiggle the protagonist of their video game; Y'ALL ARE COMPLETELY OKAY WITH SAYING THAT ARTIST SHOULDN'T BE MAKING MONEY, AND BANDWAGONING A HATEMONGERING BRIGADE AGAINST THEM.

Or in the Sans and Frisk case: PUT SEWING NEEDLES INSIDE OF COOKIES AND GIVE THEM TO THE ARTIST WHO DREW IT, PUTTING THEM IN THE HOSPITAL.

Listen

Spare me this "We hate AI because we care about the jobs of artists" shit, you lying scoundrels. You don't care about my job! You've tried to cancel me like 500 goddamn times, got my Patreon frozen twice, got my PayPal frozen over 100 times even right in the middle of conventions, flooded my stream chat and spammed the N-word in chat trying to get my Twitch banned, flooded my Discord multiple times with links to CP trying to get my Discord banned, and you have entire Discord servers literally called things like "Jay is an asshole" and "The We Hate Jay Society" (YEAH I KNOW YOU FUCKERS EXIST, HI, HAVE FUN SCREENCAPPING THIS).

My artistic career has been under fire for the past 12 years because I draw things y'all disagree with, have opinions you don't like, and have family members who vote for politicians you think are the boogeyman that's the cause of all your problems (and haven't disowned those family members). With all due respect, when I hear "We hate AI because we believe in fair wages for artists and want to protect the jobs of artists" I just wanna strangle your lying ass.

You hate AI because it's popular to hate AI.

AI is like a prosthetic robot arm that helps you carry the groceries, and disabled people like myself (rheumatoid arthritis) benefit from its uses greatly (such as being able to draw backgrounds much easier which has greatly improved my art and INCREASED MY COMMISSION REVENUE DUE TO MY ART QUALITY IMPROVING [But y'all don't care that AI helps artists earn more money, you hate AI because you claim it's hurting artists' ability to earn money]), but you're so hung up on people using the robot arm instead of their real arms that you think you're some crusader against injustice.

You aren't.

You're just looking for reasons to attack people, it's what you do. I've been dealing with y'all looking for any goddamn reason to attack someone that you can muster for the last 12 years, hell even before that I dealt with you types. You just want to hate, you want to be prejudiced so fucking bad that you look for literally any reason you can possibly find to make some vaguepost about how much you hate an artist and post it to Reddit, and then when you get called out, get so surprised that I found your bitch ass that you start pretending you didn't mean any ill will, and start pretending that you're someone else in the most pathetic attempt to dodge blame I've ever seen.

[Context: The OP of this post accidentally revealed who they are on Tumblr, and then when I called them out on Tumblr, they pretended they were someone else because they were scared I was gonna out them on Tumblr and they tried pathetically to cover their ass, and even politely said "I never wanted to garner hate against you" when they literally posted "I hate the way he draws women" on r/mendrawingwomen and flooded the comment section (mostly now deleted) with how "disgusting of a person" I am, while I was in the comments politely giving context to the shit he was saying about me, and he started getting furious when other people were liking my art and agreeing with me instead of him. I have like 600 screencaps of all the cringe this guy spewed, but I'm not gonna post it all because it's tangential anyway. Case in point? This guy's blog is absolutely covered with how much he hates artists for drawing things he doesn't like, and he regularly posts about how AI is taking jobs from artists. Not gonna out his blog, but that's who he is. A shining example of exactly what I'm talking about. "I hate AI because it takes jobs from artists!" "THIS MAN-THING DRAWS WOMEN IN A WAY I DON'T LIKE AND HE'S A DISGUSTING PERSON, EVERYONE JOIN ME IN HATING HIM AND TRYING TO RUIN HIS REPUTATION AND THEN WE CAN CELEBRATE WHEN HE LOSES HIS JOB!!!"]

Like, y'all can sit there and act like you're defending me and artists like me all you want, you're liars. You're boldfaced fucking liars. You are disgusting. It's completely pathetic watching you attack a tool that can be used to improve our art, and claim it's in defense of the authenticity of our art and the continued financial stability of our artistic careers. Fucking give me a break.

You're looking for people who say positive things about AI art so you can attack them and feel justified because it's popular to attack them.

All while sitting there and gladly swallowing the cum of any musician who makes amazing music with synths, fake symphony instruments and autotune.

"We care about the jobs of artists."

Yeah.

Long as those artists fall in line with your opinions and only draw things that agree with said opinions, right?

Wouldn't wanna care about the jobs of "problematic" artists who draw "offensive" stuff or vote for politicians you don't like.

Final note: This isn't even an attack against any political opinions or activism or anything like that, but I'm being realistic here because these are the people I see brigading against AI art. It's not me saying those people are dumb for having their opinions or political standpoints or being activists for their beliefs, it's me saying those people are the ones who are constantly attacking AI art in "defense of artists," while in the same breath attacking artists for not sharing their political standpoints or also being activists for the same causes. If you truly, truly cared about the livelihood of artists, you'd stop attacking artists' livelihood for disagreeing with you. Or for that matter: Any reason. Stop attacking artists' livelihood, or stop pretending you care about it. Be consistent, at least.

[cindol]

Painter Toji! Hcs?

Oooo this is a interesting oneeeee anon! Here’s my spin on this hc. I know you wanted just a few but I’m really interested in this hc. Really sorry it’s taken me this long if you still care anon 😊

Fushiguro Toji x black fem reader

tw: suggestive, fluff for the most part, written in hc format, both reader and toji are in their 40s., kind ooc toji !,

tagging— @neptunes1nterweb @honeybleed @mcdonaldsfics

Painter!Toji who honestly just saw this job as a house painter an easy way to money for him and his teenage children. He was always thinking of new ways to make money to support them and keep the lights on just for them so this house painting job was a savior.

Painter!Toji who found that he loved painting other things outside of painting house walls. Painting canvases was a new side hobby for them when he wasn’t in painted overalls and jeans 24/7.

Painter!Toji who loved rich clients who’d occasionally hire him for paint jobs inside their house. The pay was 10x better so he loved those cash cows.

Painter!Toji who caught the attention of one old geezer with how well he painted beautiful clouds onto his blank walls. He was in awe at how a simple house painter had this small talent and gave him a few numbers to start really painting more complex houses.

It led him to painting a sweet rich bakery lady. As he painted pretty things on her walls she was so sweet throughout the whole painting. In between breaks she would give him a fresh baked blueberry muffin and some lemonade. Toji was thankful in response to that, the snobby rich fiends he usually painted for just disregarded him. She just giggled at his thankfulness.”no need to thank me, every hard working person needs a small break with a snack yeah?”He chuckled in response biting the muffin in his hand.”guess that’s right ma’am.”

After that Painter!Toji was more interested in this bakery lady, this was their first conversation yes but he wanted to know much more about her and stayed after hours even when he finished painting. They had a nice conversation exchanging details about one another and even phone numbers. Toji had learned she was a lonely business lady herself working a big bakery.

Painter!Toji who showed some of his canvas paintings to y/n, the bakery lady and she was in awe as she looked at them on her living room table.”these are nice y’know fushiguro? Could really sell these and start your living as a full pledged painter.” Toji just scoffed at that.”nah, I don’t got the work ethic for that kinda fancy artist shit.”

She just pouted.”oh i call bullshit. I use to have that same kinda mindset but now look at me? a grown woman with a owned booming business. With this talent you could really start it off! What do you say hm?” The look of awe in her brown eyes and smile on her lips made him give in and say fuck it.

Painter!Toji who’s paintings were a hit once y/n sold a few to some fellow rich people. In a mere 2 months he found himself a career as a painter and not just some house painter. Life was getting easier and easier for him and his kids, bills easier to pay now.

Painter!Toji who got drunk with y/n one night on some wine and on a drunk whim painted her naked as she laid on his new living room table. He kept it as a private painting only for his eyes views and weirdly flet so much love for this piece as it sat above his bed on his wall.

Painter!Toji who’s actually painted y/n a few more times then he liked to admit. It was so embarrassing for him to admit to himself that she was always in his mind so much to where he didn’t even need a picture of her to paint her.

Painter!Toji who felt jealous creep up inside him when he was introducing y/n to fellow painters he met and how they looked at her and her figure. Precisely, satoru gojo. The way the younger white haired male would put a skinny paint brush in his mouth biting it and staring y/n down from her white sleeveless blouse down to her long brown skirt and mocha green baking apron with the words “kiss the bakery baby” made toji frown slightly.

Gojo grinned at the letters on her apron lifting his black sunglases down to stare.”kiss the bakery baby.. Well i would but i got manners yeah? Know better to just fancy the most beautiful woman furst day i meet her unlike some sleezeballs.” He pointed his thumb to the direction of a man with long black hair, and another with blonde hair in a nice suit making both men groan.

Toji thought that was enough he stepped next to y/n.”that’s enough satoru.. don’t need some playboy trying to mess around with my favorite bakery woman, scaring her away..” she giggled at Toji’s talk back.”it’s okay toji, he comes off strong but I like his playfulness.” Goji smirked making toji side eye him.

Next, one long haired man in just a simple white t-shirt and jeans with some glasses and his hands in his jeans came next in front of her to introduce himself, next came a man with blonde hair a striped tie, and a white suit with black tinted circular glasses to match coming to shake her hand also.

She complimented the two men saying they were,”such nice young men.” Which had two blushing and one raising a brow. When she excused herself for a bathroom trip they got to talking like Highschool girls.

Gojo rubbed the back of his head as he titled his glasses down looking at toji.”I would bag her man, surprised you haven’t bagged her yet with how you nearly were gonna kill me for a lil flirt.”

Toji just rolled his eyes and put his hands in his sweatpants.”just friends, all there to it.” Getou smiled shaking his head.”better switch that title or else some man will.”

Painter!Toji who slowly started showing his affection to y/n after that talk with the boys. It took him some courage to start showing how he cared, friends or not but he was trying. With how he patted her head sometimes or how he takes heavy things from her weaker arms and playfully saying.”you’re so weak.” Making her pout and smile hitting his arm.

y/n starts taking notice of his affection also. When he usually didn’t take notice of her bakery outfits she would smile hearing him compliment her overalls and noticing a new apron she wears every day of the week and how he would compliment her fro and lipstick. And in response she would compliment him back and show her affection, complimenting him on the grey sleeved shirt he always wears and how it fits his build nicely and how she would brush her hand on his hair sometimes.

They developed a nice little affectionate bond to where both felt they needed to make a move. Toji felt like more of a coward with how he felt for her but didn’t have the balls to drop his tough guy act and ask her out like a normal man would. When he least expected it she came to his doorstep with some bread and a cheesy note obviously asking for a date.

That made him grin but groan.”I’m suppose to be the one asking ya out y’know?” He but the inside of his cheek.”feel like a pansy now.” He joked making her pout and him feel bad and take the basket of bread from her hands.”I’m the first man to except a date from a woman though hm?”

Painter!Toji and y/n who took things slow when the two of them started dating for the better. Y/n hadn’t been in a relationship in some years so it was awkward for her to get comfortable and toji hasn’t even thought of another woman in the years following his late wife’s death so they both decided to take it slow, no cheap tricks.

It started off with small dates and kisses on the cheek in her bakery when it was closed then transferred into slow kisses and makeouts in her house and bakery with her on her kitchen counter and him holding her waist.

That’s all because I realllyyyy don’t know how to end this sorry !

[stellasvault]

If you don't mind, could I request Hobie with a musician s/o who is super sweet any time they're NOT on stage or performing, but then they get on stage and just fit so well into their stage personality of being absolutely borderline clinically insane? So much so that you can't really even call it a character they're putting on, it's just second nature to them.

[https://youtu.be/NauWxATQisQ?si=k5rGhK-RZ3BwkT9c // adding this to maybe give a more in depth idea of the unhinged act that I can't really put into words right- like the kind of personality of someone you'd want to put under a microscope and inspect, for lack of better wording]

ok so i gotta admit i had a little trouble with this one since the only musical background i have is being a violinist 😭, but i watched the video and i (think) have finally got it LMAO

“light switch”

pairings: hobie brown x gn!musician!reader

warnings: sfw, cursing, nothing else i think..

—————————————————————————

“can’t you wait a while longer?” hobie asked, being his usual stubborn self.

you huffed. you were currently supposed to already be on stage, as there was a hopeful audience waiting for you behind the other side of the curtain.

hobies hands were on your hips, eager to have some more time with you. you loved your boyfriend, but your musical career was more important than a make-out session.

you motioned toward the curtain. “hobie, there’s people who paid good money to come, i’ll see you later, right?” you smiled up at him with a tinge of annoyance in your eyes, trying to warn him this was his last chance.

he put his hands up in surrender. “alrigh’, but i know you’re gonna start cursin’ out that audience, eh?” he chuckled before punching your shoulder softly.

you pursed your lips in disbelief before hobie walked away to get seated in the front of the crowd, his usual spot. he needed to see his favorite person up close, after all.

you patted down your outfit to make sure you looked at the very least presentable. not like it was a formal outfit, anyway. you were wearing a simple graphic tee with cargo pants, you weren’t the type to go all out.

you were pretty casual. very casual. so casual in fact, that there was no need for a grand entrance. you simply flapped the curtain open just enough so that you could face the stage and sit behind your crowd.

it’s not like you were a pop star, but you definitely had some big fans. so it was no surprise that when you appeared, the audience almost fainted. your ears were flooded with claps from dozens of hands and cheers from excited fans.

“alright, alright shut up..” you mumbled, not even bothering to look up at the anxious-for-action audience members. you noticed that what looked like some new people were shocked at your obvious annoyance.

you sighed before looking back up at the people covered in bright concert lights. “shit, let’s do this..” you sighed, “this beginning song is about how fucking mad i am at the people who work at the store and keep asking me if i need help.” you explained with almost no flavor in your voice.

you took in a deep breath, about to begin playing your piano and sing, but there was an interruption.

you didn’t take those very well.

“hey!! i work at the store! ever been to the 24/7 drug store ‘round here? makes more than you, i bet.” a man’s voice lifted from the crowd obnoxiously. the rest of the crowd ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ at his heckle, knowing what happened to the previous ones.

“why don’t you take all that money and shove it up your ass?”

—————————————————————————

you could still hear the echos of the howls of laughter after you had made a comeback from the few hours before. you were now protected with hobie’s loving arms as they wrapped around you, your head on his slowly rising-and-falling chest. you were both sprawled on the bed, exhausted from the loud and bright night you had.

you remembered the look on hobie’s face when he saw you after the show ended.

“bloody hell, didn’t know my darling could be like that..” he said sarcastically, knowing he had seen you like this countless of times. his reaction to your jokes and comments were always priceless.

what made it better was that you were just the sweetest thing off stage. your friends all knew you as the kind one who never held grudges, never judged anyone, or treated everyone like your best friend. on stage, well.. you were just a bit different.

but, you did love your fans. especially your boyfriend.

—————————————————————————

haha this one was definitely shorter than expected 😭

anon, if you want this to be rewritten PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!

reblogs, likes, & follows are appreciated so much!

thanks for reading!!

•🎧🎧🎧

[powderblueblood]

STEVE HARRINGTON X MILLION DOLLAR MAN !!!!

( idk if that’s what you meant 😭 pls delete if it’s not <3 )

send me 🎵+ character name and i’ll write a lil blurb inspired by a song from their playlist (you can also request songs and i will do my level best. god is a dj and i'm god)

▶ MILLION DOLLAR MAN - LANA DEL REY

you've got the world, but baby at what price? or how falling in love with notorious conman steve harrington began your career as a fence of stolen jewelry.

an: @stveharringtn cherry how the fuck did you know that i've been sitting on a conman!steve au for what feels like a hundred thousand years. PERFECT SONG PERFECT CHOICE lets begin i hope you like it

warnings: my blatant obsession with the oceans eleven cinematic universe and pathological need to create a heist au out of EVERYTHING. and CUSSING IS IN THIS TOO.

word count: 2.5k

MIAMI BEACH, 1990

“Whatever happened to a good old-fashioned safe?”

“I don’t trust a safe. I don’t trust me, I don’t trust you, and I most definitely don’t trust a safe.”

Dustin Henderson dangerously toes the edge of squawking, but he doesn’t know any better. At this point in his career as a thief, he doesn’t understand that when Steve Harrington says he doesn’t trust anyone, it’s not dismissive. It’s simply a missive, a fact of life. Everyone’s got knives, everyone’s got backs. Stands to reason that someone’s going to thrust and someone is going to get stabbed. 

Steve likes to take all the necessary precautions. 

He doesn’t trust anyone. 

“But her you trust?” 

Robin Buckley’s tone is hard. Robin Buckley is the only person that Steve could imagine himself trusting, and even so, they keep each other at an imperceptible arm’s length. To the outside world, they’re bosom buddies, best friends eating dirt together. But they both understand the business that they’re in. 

They keep their knives sharp.

They take all the necessary precautions. 

So why the fuck is Steve bringing an outsider into the ring. 

“I never said that.” Steve grabs a coaster and pointedly puts it where Robin might next aim her beer bottle, dripping with incriminating condensation. All over his agarwood coffee table. 

“It was inferred.” Robin pointedly puts the bottle down– to the far left of the coaster. Fuck you.

“I don’t see how that’s my problem.” Fuck you right back. 

“I know why he’s not using a safe,” Eddie Munson crows from the near background, wiping ash from his face. Eddie Munson, munitions expert. Eddie Munson, expert in blowing up any conversation within a three mile radius. Detonation test, by the way, that’s why his face is covered in shit. 

Steve holds out a hand–stop right where you are–before he can reach the agarwood table. 

“Because he’s–” and proceeds to make that finger in hole gesture that doesn’t crack a single smile in the room. Not even Dustin Henderson’s, mostly due to the fact that it’s happening behind his head. “Because he’s fucking her.” 

“It’s not that,” Steve and Robin say in unison, with Steve’s eyes narrowed on Eddie and Robin’s eyes trained unmercifully on Steve. 

It’s not that. They’re right. It’s worse. 

-

There’s something psychosexual about the game of tennis. The grunting, the tiny little skirts, the whacking of balls. The amount of money rich people love to spend on it. There’s something evil here, and you’ve committed yourself to a summer of trying to figure it out. 

Well, half-committed. Your real commitment is making enough tips to make a dent in your looming student loans. Post-graduation, a friend had given you a hot tip about private tennis clubs in Miami. They use hundos like napkins there, girl. Go get your piece. 

Your nana lives in Miami. Lived. She’s dead now, three months. You’re living in her condo now– technically in a seniors complex, assisted living type of thing, but it’s okay. It’s quiet. The people chat and force you to play bocce ball sometimes, the only sport you understand. 

Tennis, you don’t understand, other than the fact that these people have more money than they know what to do with and they’re all too repressed to grunt in the privacy of their own homes. 

After a time or two taking drink orders and bringing their rackets for in-house repair, they all blend into the same amorphous blob– the white outfits-on-white people effect does not help. They tip you in enormous digits, confident that you’ll remember them and treat them right, but you don’t have that skill. Some of your co-workers do, but you don’t. 

So, you notice when someone stands out. 

You smell him before you see him, and you know how that sounds, but bare with– 

The thickening, insistent incense smell of patchouli. Rainwater. Dust. Lemon.

When you turn from your place behind the bar, fetching your eighth double vodka soda in what seems like as many minutes for another bleach-blond man in his mid-forties, he’s leaning with one elegant elbow propped on the marble top. Sunglasses push over a shock of brown hair, streaked with blonde from the Florida sunshine. 

“Macallan, buddy. Up.” But he’s not talking to you. He’s talking to the bartender, Trent, the picture of incompetence. Trent nods to him, smiling broadly, but that flattens into a hard line as he turns toward the bar. 

This guy politely turns his head, eyes glossing right over you. But you are just staring a bullet hole right though him, and you can’t help it. He’s magnetic. He’s dressed in a light blue linen suit, a far cry from the tennis uniforms or the hollering Versace shirts every other man in the place seems to be wearing. The slope of his shoulders suggest something… provincial. 

He’s not a city boy– man. This is a man. 

You hear a clatter to your immediate right and see Trent pouring a finger of Chivas into a tumbler. 

“Oh, Trent, that’s not–” 

He passes it off to the linen gentleman, this Miami cowboy, with a serene smile. Most people wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a Chivas and a Macallan, but you would. 

And you bet he would too. 

He departs in a cloud of the same heavenly scent he’d arrived in, heading courtside to watch trust fund kids fumble over backhands. 

“Trent,” you say, reaching for the correct bottle and a fresh tumbler. “Meet Macallan. For next time, okay?” 

The blond kid just shrugs at you. “All that shit tastes the same to me.” 

To you. 

You linger near the arm of his chair before speaking, suddenly able to hear your pulse in your ears. Up close, you can see moles dotting the hand holding the errant glass of Chivas. A big hand too, it seems to dwarf the crystal. 

“Excuse me,” you say, as steady as you can manage. It’s not very steady. You wish you would’ve thought to check your makeup before you made a beeline out here, but time, you couldn’t help but feel, was of the essence. 

He looks up at you over his sunglasses and you think your knees might buckle. 

Eyes like a dark wood. Inviting you in. The kind of eyes that don’t look through you. 

Christ, people had been looking through you all summer, but it didn’t matter now. 

“Is that the Macallan?” he mumbles conspiratorially. 

You just– nod, uniform-required ponytail bouncing. 

“I’ll trade you,” he says, about to pass off the glass of Chivas, but then he pauses. Takes you in, surveying you in a way that makes you blush, “if you can finish this one with me.” 

“Um…”

“Is that allowed?” he asks, “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

Trouble be damned. The hell with trouble. Not only is your reputation as a little worker bee here untarnished, you can’t not sit with him. 

“I’m due a break, actually.”

“So I’ll trade you. Sit down, get comfortable. Give me the scoop on these tennis brats.”

He leans in to take the glass of Macallan from you, to pass off the glass of Chivas, and he brushes your hand. You experience the full entirely of a cliche, feeling electricity thrum under your skin– but then he passes a fingertip over the ring finger of your right hand. 

“That’s a pretty piece,” he hums, “Princess, right?”

For a second, you falter. Princess? Me? But it’s the ring he’s referring to– the yellow diamond engagement ring that once belonged to your nana. 

“Close!” you say, twisting the band on your finger in an act of self-consciousness. “Carré cut. Less pricey than a princess.”

“But just as pretty.” 

“And more rare, actually.” 

“Huh,” he says, and you smooth your skirt out with one hand, taking the seat nearest him. Enveloping yourself in the cloud of him. “Rarer than a princess.” 

From the court, a headband-wearing pre-teen in dazzling whites hollers fuck you, Mommy! Fuck you and your fucking bullshit topspin! I fucking hate this place!

“I’ll drink to that.” 

-

NEW YORK CITY, 1995

The car door slams behind Dustin Henderson, raindrops rolling from the brim of his baseball cap. It’s late November and a freezing rain has descended upon the Diamond District. 

Steve had at least hoped he might see sunshine when he got out of the joint. 

From the wheel, he cranes his neck to the back seat where Dustin sits, wiping the dripping water from the hat’s beak. His Thinking Cap. He’s had that thing since he was a kid and has somehow managed to keep it in immaculate condition. Dustin loves details. Dustin also loves risk. Which is why he’s the only man for this recon job. 

“Tell me,” Steve says, tone as level as he can possibly keep it. 

“She is way hotter than I remember.”

“Dustin.”

“Miami always makes people less hot. I think it’s the heat,” the kid chuckles, an obvious attempt at lightening a tense mood. See, they weren’t supposed to be here. They weren’t supposed to be looking for you. Robin hadn’t said don’t go looking for her, but that more or less should have been in the terms of Steve’s release from Sing Sing. 

“Dustin.” 

“She’s in there, just like you said she’d be in there. It’s a white room and it’s got every kind of goddamn sparkler you could think of. Three layers of security. Three. What kind of jewelry store you ever been to that’s got three layers of security?” 

A detail like that would make a less accomplished thief sweat. But Dustin and Steve share a knowing smile. 

“A jewelry store selling stolen jewelry.” 

“Exactly,” Dustin nods. “I thought she’d be front-of-house, but she’s got her own office. Tucked away in the corner. Appointment only.” 

“Any availability?”

The younger man smirks. “For me or for you?” 

-

Buddy’s is the last place in midtown you can get a decent drink and not be surrounded by throngs of yuppies. 

You know this, because you tend to date the yuppies in the throng. 

This is the one place that seems to be universally avoided by the trader set– it’s too dark and wooden in here, no brutalist architecture to make them feel at home while they rail lines of coke off their girlfriend’s compact mirrors. 

At Buddy’s, there’s a pianist that’s been propping up the corner for the last half century, minimum. A carpet that’s never been shampooed spreads across the floor and the mahogany is dented in all the places the light doesn’t hit. You can smoke indoors. Everything Happens to Me by Chet Baker will play, and everything feels like it’s going to be alright. At least until happy hour ends. 

You have a regular seat by the bar, a vantage point for people-watching. A gin martini, hold the vermouth, sits waiting for you by the time you arrive. On an average Thursday, you spend a couple of hours drinking three of these in an act of decompression from the violent fluorescent lighting of your workplace. From peering through a looking glass, examining the way light refracts through gemstones. 

From moving cargo that isn’t yours to move. 

This Thursday has been no different. 

You drag a finger along the condensation of your martini glass, it’s perfect conical shape a welcome weight in your hand. 

Your hair is piled up on top of your head, and you wear your reading glasses, and though you are beautiful, no one bothers you. Nothing bothers you. 

Until you hear a sound you haven’t heard in years. 

Tapping, against the bartop. One, one. Two, two. Three, three. Nerves. It was the only time you could ever tell that he was nervous. 

“Macallan, buddy. Up.”

Fucker.

-

He knew you by every single detail about you, let’s get that straight. 

He is entirely sure that in a room of a thousand clones of you, he would be able to pick out the real one, just from your minute sigh. From the way your one shoulder always slopes. From curl at the base of your neck. 

From the way you play with your grandmother’s Carré cut diamond, still sitting pretty on your right hand. 

He positions himself a number of seats away from you, from the seat that he’s been watching you sit at for a couple of nights in a row now. He does not approach you directly. 

Partially to see if you’ll still remember him. 

Steve is still vain, in his ways. He wants a spotlight shone on him. 

He only ever remembers the warmth of yours. 

He orders the same drink he ordered that day you met at the tennis club, the same way. He even hopes the bartender will mistake the Chivas for the Macallan and you’ll have to climb over the bar and charmingly correct him. But Antoine, as he’s heard you call him, has been behind this bar longer than Saint Peter at the pearly gates, so there’s no fear of that. 

You don’t react right away, and he doesn’t expect you to. He savors it, in fact, the opportunity to slyly watch you. Even if you’re seething. Even if you’re seething, you’re seething like a goddess might seethe. Horrifying and beautiful, all at once. The definite end of him. 

Then, the lack of attention you’re showing him stretches on a beat too long. 

“Excuse me,” he says from his spots a couple of seats down, “Can you do me a favor?”

You don’t respond. This doesn’t stop him. Never has.

“You mind tasting this for me?” Steve pushes the glass toward you, sending it sliding down the bar. You catch it with your right hand, yellow diamond catching in the light. A cut like that has never sparkled until you’ve worn it. “You think that’s Macallan or Chivas? Be honest.”

Steve’s fingers flex unconsciously as you lift the glass. Tilt it toward your lips. Still making no eye contact. But you don’t sip. 

“I think you should be in prison,” you say into the crystal tumbler and place it back on the bar top. “Why the fuck are you not in prison.” 

Steve closes the space between you, taking in that powdery perfume you’re still wearing after all this time. Candied violets. He settles into the beside you and props his palm under his chin. 

“Why are you selling stolen jewelry.”

He sees you tense for a brief moment, then release. Like you knew he’d say that, like you should have seen that coming. Because you know him, and you always see him coming. Other than Robin, you’re the only one that ever has. 

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

“So that when some bastard in a bad linen suit asks me to hold on to some stolen jewelry, I’ll at least know how much it’s worth.”

A beat. You stare Steve down with such naked disdain that his heart twists in his chest. You hate him, and he sees that, and with all the evidence stacked up against you, he should hate you too. But that wasn’t what bit him.

“That suit wasn’t bad, Princess.”

[pookieismissing09]

ok guys i never post on here but heres my take on the sturniolo space camp situation if anyone gives a fuck

SORRY THIS IS SO LONG I DONT EXPECT ANYONE TO READ EVERYTHING NO ONE WILL PROB SEE THIS ANYWAY 💀 ill prob delete this icl its just a lil rant 🥰🥰

and if u disagree with me idc im just expressing my opinions 😭 read the whole thing so i can justify myself before u start attacking me

before i say anything im not just sticking up for nick just because im a fan of the triplets. like some people are only sticking up for him because they hate to admit that he would ever lie or do anything wrong- and they’re defending him with no reasoning other than “he would never 🥺” like stfu. what im saying is that i don’t know for sure whether the ‘bee better’ guy is telling the truth, for all i know he might be chatting utter shit. but if he is telling the truth, then im saying that i understand nick lied but its not necessarily a negative thing.

so like first of all i dont see the issue with nick not being the founder of the brand. like yes i understand its ‘morally wrong’ to lie and its misinformation but i think we will live… it doesnt make any difference to the products or the people who buy them. like ik people say that they only bought it to support nick and they wouldn’t have bought it if they knew it was just some random brand, but its not just some ‘random brand’- they are still supporting nick cos he gets payed for advocating it. by purchasing the products, theyre keeping the brand afloat which means nick will get payed for being the ‘face of the brand’ and doing a good job at advertising. or in simple terms, even if nick isnt the founder of the entire brand he is still a huge part of the company and is definetly getting a fat bag from all of this. like yall are acting like you wouldnt lie if a company said they would pay you to do so- bffr we would all do what nick did.

and the other main thing is everyone is complaining about the price all of a sudden. like if you are all protesting about how nick has nothing to do with the origin of the brand then surely he also wouldn’t be able to control the price? so according to everyone saying the lip balms are not his idea, don’t be mad at nick for the ridiculous pricing if he apparently ‘had nothing to do with it in the first place‘. and aside from that, the pricing literally had nothing to do with the fact that he lied about being the founder- it would probably cost the same either way so why are people only getting worked up about the pricing now that he is being ‘exposed’? like honestly people are just looking for excuses to say he’s a bad person like what 😭

and ik this doesnt have anything to do with spacecamp, but in general these days everyone is saying how the triplets don’t put any effort into their content anymore and only do it for the money. i think you are forgetting that youtube is their full time paying job. doing youtube as a hobby and doing it as a career are completely different- and most people find that when they pursue their hobbies as a career choice they start to enjoy it less since they feel under pressure to perform a certain way (and don’t come at me for saying that because im “babying” the triplets, piss off).

put it this way, people that have high paying jobs that sit in an office all day don’t do that type of work for their enjoyment- they only work in that environment because they want to receive a larger income instead of having an enjoyable job with a poor wage. this is exactly the same as the triplets’ situation, i doubt very much that they actually do youtube for their personal enjoyment. at the end of the day they have to pay the bills and youtube is their only job- its not always going to be fun like it used to be (both for them and for us watching).

and for all of you thinking ‘well they shouldnt be youtubers if they cant entertain people’ you have to understand that getting a different job takes time. like the whole process of finding a career, interviewing etc. and as well as that, they are probably terrified to even consider looking for another career because of their batshit crazy fans (including me 💀). like can we just cut them some slack and let them get on with their job 😭. and at the end of the day they cant just stop being youtubers, they will never be able to live their lives as regular people now that they have created their platform- i doubt they will ever do anything else bc of the fear of being recognised in public whilst they are doing a more “normal” job.

and for the love of god this is NOT me saying that the triplets are gonna quit youtube. like i said, its their full time job. im just giving my opinion on people saying they are only doing it for the money- and quite honestly they are, but is that really such a bad thing? like im sorry but they aren’t just posting for our entertainment, they need money one way or another.

also is anyone else excited for the stream later like i hope nick will say something about all this and not just stay quiet until it all blows over

i think thats all i was gonna say i cant remember but if theres more then i will say 😘😘😘 sorry i waffle alot

[my-makeshift-masquerade]

Hi! Could I request a reader insert for Funtime Freddy? Basically, readers had a harsh week and Funtime Freddy cheers them up? Readers personality is up to you! ❤️

P.S, Love your work!!

Oh. You know I have never written for this fella (fellas?) before. Let’s see how I do? You can’t have Funtime Fredboi without his trusty left hand man BawhnBawhn, so you’re getting a two for one package deal!

Battery Low

“Hello. Welcome back to your existential crisis repackaged as a promising career—“

“Oh fuck off…” You mumbled at nothing. Who programmed that annoying Hand Unit anyway…?

“We value the ideas and feedback of our employees here at Afton Robo—“ The audio glitched out, “—Circus Baby’s Entertainment and Rentals. So, we would like to let you decide which of our friendly cast you want to visit first today. Please enter your selection into the pinpad.”

You looked in the beady googly eyes of that horrible excuse for a pinpad, thinking for a moment. Do you want to get the easiest one out of the way first, or start with the more difficult animatronic? After a second more of deliberation, you begin to type.

B-A-L-7-0-R-4—

“It looks like you’re having trouble with the pinpad. I see what you were trying to type and will autocorrect it for you.” Hand Unit paused, “You entered: Funtime Freddy.”

“What?! No I didn’t, you dumbass computer—” You hissed, kicking the metal stand and wincing at how much it hurt.

“Let’s go see how Funtime Freddy and his best pal Bonbon are doing tonight.”

“Hell no. I’m going to Ballor—“

“Let’s go see how Funtime Freddy and his best pal Bonbon are doing tonight.” Hand Unit repeated more firmly.

“Fuckin— Fine!”

———

You trudged into Funtime Freddy’s area, flashlight in hand. You did not want to deal with any of this shit today, especially not Freddy’s shit. He loved to toy with you and make your job that much more difficult than it already was. It felt like eternity and you were only a week into this purgatory of a job. You get paid at two weeks, if you don’t take the choice of a gift basket, which you weren’t.

Baby said on your third night that you must not value your life too much if you keep choosing to come back here, but frankly you have no choice. You need the money. You need to escape your house for at least some time. Sure you’d even make more doing dishes somewhere, but it wasn’t worth the trouble to keep applying to other places that would reject you for “lack of experience”.

“Ohoho! I hear something!” His shrill voice echoed in the darkness, “Someone’s here to play!”

“It’s only a mouse.” Bonbon’s slightly less annoying voice whispered, “Go back to sleep…”

You took advantage of that to try and sneak back into the vents, but of course, the giant metal deathtrap of a bear had found you before you could scramble in.

“Why hello again~!” Freddy cackled, “See, Bonbon? I told you our friend was here to see us!”

“Hello, night guard!” The periwinkle rabbit waved his mitten-like paw, but paused, “Oh my! You look like you’re running out of battery…”

“Silly Bon! Humans don’t run out of battery!”

“Actually, we very much do.” You snapped bitterly, instantly regretting it as you saw Freddy’s free hand grab a sparking wire nearby.

“Well then! Let us help y—“

“NO!” You dropped the flashlight and put your hands up, “That is NOT how we charge!”

“But when other humans touch it they jitter with excitement!” The bear’s ears wiggled, “They even leak a little on the floor!”

“Look, can you stop being a total fucking sadist for ten minutes?!” You ran your fingers over your scalp, “Please, just— just ten minutes—!”

You sat down on the grime covered floor, shaking as you tried to control your breathing. It was silent apart from the buzzing of machinery for a few seconds…until Bonbon spoke.

“Freddy, I think our friend is sad.” The rabbit spoke, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing you two can help with…”

“Sure we can!” Freddy stated proudly, “We are the best at making people smile!”

You paused. Actually… Why not just vent your problems to these two robots? It wasn’t like they could do anything worse than torture or kill you…

“It’s… just been a tough week.” The employee began, “Dealing with this new job and other things… I look happy on the outside, but on the inside I am so tired. It’s like my life is passing me by, but I can’t even enjoy it, you know?”

“Boy, we sure know how that feels!” Freddy laughed in an almost unstable manner, “Every day we perform show after show… Then we end up back here waiting to do it all again tomorrow! AHAHAHAHA—“

“Calm down…” Bonbon soothed, “What he means to say is it gets pretty lonely down here… It’s hard for us to keep being happy, too…”

The human looked up at the towering animatronic from their sitting position with a new spark in their eyes. Damn… You didn’t realize the robots would be having the same crisis as you. Now you were curious…

“So…What do you both do at night when I’m not here?”

“Well… We try to get some slee—“

“Wait for someone else to come play with us of course!” The bear cut off the rabbit, “As long as someone is here to distract me, I forget the pain for a little while!”

“That doesn’t always work, Freddy… It helps sometimes, but the best thing we can do is take care of ourselves and rest so we can keep going another day.” Bonbon looked to the guard, “Maybe you need to recharge and sleep too?”

���But that’s boringggg!” The larger funtime groaned, “Can’t we play a game instead?! I want to play chase! That will wake us all up!”

“Freddy, our guard friend isn’t in the mood for games tonight… Don’t you remember how it feels when you’re battery is low and you don’t want to play anymore?”

“…Yes…” The bear answered with the tone of a pouting child, before laughing, “It’s okay though! When that happens the silly voice in the walls says we aren’t performing at capacity and gives us zaps until I feel happy again!”

Wait, is that why he immediately went to try and shock you earlier?! You were surprised by how much his sadistic behavior suddenly made sense given that grim context…

“Sorry, guys… It’s only been a week and I am already slipping…” You growled in anger at yourself, “I didn’t mean to—“

“What are you apologizing for?!” Freddy blinked, becoming cheerful again in an unstable sort of way, “It’s okay to be out of battery! I mean… Everyone runs out eventually, right?!”

“Yeah, I-I guess…?”

“So, take a moment to recharge! Do something that zaps you with energy and makes you feel ALIVE—“

“Or take it slow.” Bonbon added tentatively.

“Slow sounds good…” You nodded, “Can I just sleep in here?”

“A sleepover?! Of course you can!” Freddy beamed, “Baby can make the voice in the walls be quiet too! I can go ask her—“

“It seems my audio is malfunctioning—“ Hand Unit blurted, “I will be offline momentarily…”

“Oh, Baby! She’s always listening!” The bear giggled.

“Shhh. Our friend is already falling asleep…” Bonbon whispered.

You were made uneasy by that last statement about Baby, but you passed out before you could really process the implications of it… God were you really falling asleep in this dangerous place? Yes… Yes you were.

[jewish-vents]

My entire life, I've yearned for the kind of community the Jewish community and Judaism have provided me. I found out I had Jewish ancestry when I was a kid, I looked into it more later and realized my most recent Jewish ancestor (like three-ish generations back) was almost certainly forcibly converted out, and decided to convert to like. Make amends for that I guess and also because I really vibed with the holidays and how we turn up everywhere in history bc we keep doing cool stuff despite consistently shitty circumstances.

But I digress.

I have waited my WHOLE LIFE trying to experience the joy becoming Jewish has shown me, and that gets shit on constantly.

My sister has started making a truly obscene number of Jew jokes. My mom scoffs at all the 'nonsense rules' and has said repeatedly that she thinks choosing a 'restrictive' religion is dumb and I've made a mistake. She even said it's an insult to HER parenting skills that I would seek out religion after she tried to teach me to know better.

My dad is dead but I never ever in a million years would have told him even if he were alive, and my sister thinks it's funny to threaten to 'out' me as Jewish to his relatives even though they're basically KKK-adjacent so she actually enjoys threatening mg safety at this point. (Yay family right?)

My friends have turned everything into an Israel/Palestine discussion lately and I know damn well what they're doing when they start saying truly horrible shit about Israelis and looking at me. They get mad if I try to temper their extremism so I've given up. I barely talk to them anymore and I spend more and more time with other Jews from temple and I don't want to like. Isolate myself from all non-Jews I guess bc I've always felt like that leads to weirdness and perpetuates shit about Jews being unfriendly I guess idk?

Anyway I digress again. My point is I'm really sick of constantly being expected to tolerate it when people think I shouldn't be Jewish.

Other queer people think I'm somehow compromising my queer identity by being Jewish, leftists think I hunt Palestinian children for sport now apparently, right-wingers think I traffic good Christian babies for organ harvesting or some shit idfk, my friends think that if I'm not being more vitriolic in my hatred of Israel than they already are I'm some kind of secret rabid Netanyahu fan, my family think I've been recruited into a cult apparently and the only other people who show me even an ounce of compassion or regard are other Jews and Gd knows there's like ten of us and that number is unlikely to increase.

Just. Fuck. I've put blood, sweat, tears and money into this, I invested more time and emotional commitment into this than I have into going to college or choosing a career, I love it more than anything and have only loved it more the more I learned about it, and all I get when I express this or even just let slip that I am Jewish and chose to be, I get nothing but hatred. I will never understand how a religion that has spent all 5000 years of our existence minding our business and arguing about the same book over and over can possibly have offended this many people with our existence.

Dmn anon, that is a lot you're dealing with right now. I'm so sorry you're surrounded by people who clearly don't respect you. Because yes this is a lack of basic respect, and it is antisemitic. Now I don't know how old you are and how safe you are, but if you can safely do so, set very hard boundaries. Do not tolerate this amount of disrespect towards who you are. It is hard, and many of us have had to go through similar situations, as you can read all over this blog. But I think having to spend your life surrounded by people who make you feel unsafe and disrespected is worse. I know sometimes there are situations in which people cannot safely set these boundaries, I hope it's not your case, but if it is feel free to come here to vent again.

I know you don't want to isolate yourself from goyim. Many Jewish people don't want to. Sadly, when people disrespect us like this, they're the ones isolating us. It's not your fault. Seek people who love and accept you. Sadly, a good chunk of goyim won't - I'm not saying everyone, obviously, but a portion. Having a good Jewish support network seems to be more and more important, whether it's irl or online.

I hope you can soon be in an environment that's safer and more accepting

- 🐺

[notyouraryang0dd3ss]

Having a #1 Song doesn't mean SHIT anymore! It doesn't mean the song is a hit.

Let's be so serious rn. Nobody knows any of her damn fault track that keep charting. I asked my mom to name one song of hers and she could name "Shake it off."

Smooth Criminal went #7 in the US.

Remember the Time went #3 in the US.

Heal the World went #27 in the US.

They don't care about us #30 in the US. But it still went viral on tiktok. A song that is almost 30 years old!!

Thriller the song also never went to number one, but ask people to name one Halloween song they gonna name that song.

And what is more impressive, having 1M EAS the first day or still selling 1M EAS 15 years after your passed and more than 20 years after you dropped an album. Longevity is quality. 1M first day sales she's gonna sell that much for years. Hell, she be lucky if she even sold 50k in a year in 30 years.

5 music videos of his that are made in the 80's and 90's are about to have 1 billion views this year.

Billie Jean still gets 1M daily streams on Spotify.

I'm sorry if you aren't an Mjfan and I bring him up but he's the best example I can give you also because Swifties keep comparing her to him.

If people don't like the song they won't keep listening to it. And if Taylors song just stay in her fanbase and they just massstream her shit. Nobody is gonna know this song in 20 years.

Because what is the last hit Taylor Swift had that was known to the general public? Anti Hero maybe? Cruel Summer?

And something that is also funny is that, Remember when her drunk self got on stage and snatched the grammy from Celine Dion and didn't even look at her.

And people were pissed and her team was quick on working getting a picture with her to mend the damage.

Celine Dion has 5 Grammys and Taylor Swift has 14.

But they knew that Celine Dion got more respect from the GP then Taylor will ever have. And that is something you cannot buy. And they know if someone wins out of pure talent or just because of favourism. And let's be real. Most people know these award shows are rigged and they don't care about it.

Like when RollingStone came out with that fuck ass best singers list that put Taylor at #102 and excluded Celine Dion. People were mad that Celine was included but Taylor was.

Or just recently they also called her the better Adele. Nobody from the GP was like oh yeah that is true.

I mean they can try to name her the Queen of Pop in one of the award shows alà Michael Jackson style, but it's not gonna work with her. When he got that name people actually agreed and they still do. Outside Taylors cult nobody will agree with that.

Taylor's Team is aggressive with the Marketing and pushing these numbers onto us because they know outside of it she has nothing to offer. Her talent isn't marketable. Her singing and dancing isn't that impressive. The most marketable things about her career are her wealth and business success. Have they ever talked about her performance while she is on tour. What is so impressive what she does on stage? No they just keep talking about the money she makes.

No I completely get why MJ is a relevant comparison here. Swifties do keep comparing TS to him and for that alone they need to collectively get their asses beat. But you used good examples and I just want to applaud you for that

& you’re right, I can’t name a single vault track. Every time I’m exposed to her its against my will through my recommended (and its usually so out of place too because i watch really weird video essays).

Charts truly don’t reflect cultural impact because Drunk in Love by Beyoncé never went #1 and neither did Toxic by Britney Spears but both are super well known. Anti Hero is probably the last single to go #1 but I genuinely felt harassed by that song 😭 its sooooooooo bad

Yes! The vocal trinity—Celine Dion, Mariah Carey, and Whitney Houston—have done SO MUCH for music and all have less than half of Taylor Swift’s amount of Grammys. Celine and Mariah each have 5 and Whitney has 6.

I didn’t watch the Grammys this year (forgot to) but I heard about the Celine Dion incident I was SHOCKED because the audacity of this woman! Her entitlement shows in everything she does and she’s really starting to believe her commercial success makes her a better artist.

THE ROLLING STONE LIST WAS BULLSHIT. THEY DIDN’T INCLUDE JENNIFER HUDSON EITHER! Their definition of a “singer” was soooooooo bullshit too like that magazine’s merit has gone down so much in the past 20 years it should be regarded with way less status and credibility. And who tf called TS better than ADELE?

You’re right, her moniker will be chosen by the general public (probably from a viral tweet/tiktok/etc).

And she needs aggressive marketing because she really is a below average musician in all respects! She has her songwriting but she should’ve just been a hit songwriter (like Estelle Dean) not a singer. What makes her marketable is very “ordinary” image—which makes her relatable to “every girl, like me and you” 🙄 her soft voice really creates an intimate atmosphere especially with her vulnerable (but superficial) lyrics. She has to be friends with her fans for her success to work. Because there is no way you can justify her being regarded as a “god” the way people do with Beyoncé and MJ otherwise.

🎯 with the Eras Tour coverage. No one ever references or cites a particular jaw dropping vocal performance or dance number. It’s always the amount of wealth she’s generating.