#no west coast dates is wild

[simpleapparition]

had an idea after the teeth of god tour announcement so i had to sketch it

[thewulf]

Wild Child || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: The four times Jake catches you in precarious situation plus the one time you catch him in one.

A/N: A request from a friend.: I’m sooooo sorry if your name is Heidi (You’ll see why). Really unedited but I wanted to get you guys something out. Please enjoy!

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 6,200+

The First Incident

A wild child is how your family always described you. You liked ‘free spirit’ better. Wild child made you sound unhinged. You didn’t like to consider yourself unhinged per say but you couldn’t stand to be tied down to anything. One minute you were a white-water rafting instructor at the Grand Canyon, the next you’re teaching people how to paraglide in the Alps. You craved adventure. Loved it more than anything in the world.

The thought of a corporate job holding you down made you gag, literally. You knew this lifestyle wasn’t maintainable per say but you just couldn’t seem to give a damn. You let the wind blow you to your next opportunity. That’s how you ended up in San Diego as a water sports instructor. You’d been working as a ski school coach in Colorado when you got word help was needed on the West Coast. You approached the guy who needed help and the rest was history. You were on a plane to San Diego the next day with a job running the little shack on the beach.

You loved it. It might’ve been your favorite job to date. You got to hang out in the sun all day and rent Jet Ski’s, paddle boards and kayak’s to people. Your favorite days were the ones you got to do jet ski tours on. You’d spend endless hours on the open ocean having the time of your life. Your least favorite days were the ones when you had to do maintenance on all the equipment. Usually, Doug or Jim your coworkers would take on changing the oil out on the jet ski’s but naturally they were both off when one needed to be done.

It didn’t take long before you found yourself in a less than ideal situation. You’d forgotten to put the oil cap back on before cranking the engine on. Well, the entire contents of oil you just dumped in the chamber was now all over your face and clothing, the engine spitting it back at you.

“Fuck!” You cried jumping back away from the machine. Ripping off the safety glasses you used your hands and clothing to try and get the oil off your face. Without much success you paused trying to assess the situation.

You realized you had two options. Jump in the freezing ass Ocean or run into Penny’s place. Deciding on the latter option you pulled your shirt off leaving you in your bathing suit. Luckily, most of the oil was on your shirt avoiding the rest of your body.

It was only five so the bar had just opened, “Penny!” You called loudly for the woman as you walked into the Hard Deck.

“Y/N!” She called back before turning to you. When she did her face displayed every emotion. Her smiley face turned to shock as she took in your oily black appearance. Then it turned to confusion as she took in your entire appearance. You must’ve looked like a horror story walking into her bar. No shoes, no shirt and certainly a problem.

“The damn jet ski blew up on me. Marty’s cheap ass won’t upgrade them. It’s certainly nothing that I did!” Crossing your hands over your chest with a pout on your face making your way over to a bar stool you gave her an overly exasperated look.

The last and final emotion that crossed her face was with hilarity. She couldn’t stop laughing once she realized it was more than likely a self-inflicted casualty, “Did it now?”

Nodding your head, you gratefully accepted the rag from her. Beginning to wipe away some more of the oil from your face you heard some commotion from the front door.

“Penny!” A male voice you hadn’t recognized rang through the bar just as yours had seconds prior.

Her brows stitched together in confusion as she had just seen that same scene play out with you not a moment before, “Jake!” She replied, just the same as she had with you. Spinning around in the bar stool you were thankful the rag was covering your mouth because you were sure it would have dropped right then and there. The most devilishly handsome military man just walked through Penny’s doors, and you had your eyes set right on him.

He too, had his eyes set right on you but you had a sneaking suspicion it was from the engine oil that caked your face and upper body, “You have a little something here.” Jake pointed to his forehead giving you a cheeky smirk.

“Oh, thanks.” You rolled your eyes, “So helpful.” Dramatically you took the damp rag wiping your forehead free of motor oil, “Did I get it?” You quipped back.

He nodded smiling, enjoying how much of an attitude you already had with him. It made the game way more fun when they didn’t get off on the right foot, “You got it.” He nodded his head down, “Jake Seresin. Don’t think we’ve met.” The stupid cheeky grin never left his face. Only growing wider when he saw your irritated expression grow.

Quickly, you ran your hand along the other side of your face making sure to coat your hand in oil before accepting the handshake. His grin broke out into a full smile seeing your play. A low chuckle reverberated from his body as your hand coated his in oil, “Sorry, I thought you said I got it?” Giving him a wink, you snatched your hand back from his grip. Easy to do since they were both coated in the slippery liquid.

He tipped his head in your direction, “Fair play ma’am.”

“That’s all I do, Mr. Seresin.” Taking the rag, you fully wiped off your face. You knew your hair was coated but opted to throw it up in a bun until you’d be able to shower it off. Penny gave you a new clean one while she handed Jake a napkin after seeing the exchange between the two of you.

“Did you need something Jake?” Penny interrupted the two young adults who were seemingly very into each other. Penny could tell. She always could. It didn’t help that she hardly knew either of you. You’d just started at the shack two weeks ago, only occasionally crossing paths. You worked early and she worked late.

“I did.” He nodded looking back at you, “But for some odd reason, I can’t remember what that was.” He threw you a wink taking a seat next to you.

You wanted to roll your eyes, but something drew you into him. Like you wanted to know just a little bit more, “Cheesy.”

“She doesn’t like cheesy, noted.” Jake leaned back looking you over. He’d noticed you were just in your swimsuit, not really mad about it.

“Well, I didn’t say that did I?”

He took the beer Penny had poured from him, “Noted.”

The Second Incident

“No, no, no!” You yelled out while you running around the beach trying to collect the umbrellas that got pulled up by the rather strong gust of wind. You’d gotten three before the fourth got caught in another gust and took off.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You sighed before jogging along the water hoping to catch it before it went out into the ocean. You loved this job, but you didn’t love it that much to go swimming for it.

To your delight the blonde boy from the bar caught it before you did. Coming out of nowhere he grabbed the end of it before quickly closing it. After catching up to him you took the awkwardly large umbrella from his hands, “My hero! Thank you. Might’ve saved my job.”

He smiled back at you almost immediately, enthralled you were chatting with him so easily. It wasn’t that often he came across a woman that could hold her own with him. Natasha being one of the rare few. He had a feeling you were just like her with your quick remarks and witty comebacks, “You’re welcome…You never told me your name.” He frowned looking at you expectedly.

“I didn’t?”

He shook his head, “No ma’am.”

“Hmm.” You began to walk away knowing he’d follow right after you. You were oddly good at this game. Truth be told you hadn’t a clue where your confidence came from. Even with men as attractive as Jake you knew how to wind them up and get them to do your bidding. A unique skill not only reserved for the men. You mom always said you’d make for a great politician because you were a master at manipulating people to do what you needed them to do. She always made it sound cooler than it was. But you sure did use that skill to your advantage in these situations.

“Aren’t you going to tell me?” He caught up to you with ease. Your smaller frame and the gigantic umbrella slowed you down.

“Now, what’s the fun in that?” You gave him a wide grin already seeming to know how to reel him right into you.

He paused for a moment before making his way back to you, “I’ll go ask Penny.”

“Go for it. That’s cheating but it’s fine.” You knew military men had a weird thing with cheating so again, you used it against him.

“That’s not cheating!” He took the umbrella from you, tired of seeing you struggle with it while he knew he could carry it so easily.

“Thanks,” You smiled up at him before heading back to the shack. A nasty storm appeared to be rolling in that wasn’t on the radar that morning. You wouldn’t have set out the umbrellas had you known it would be coming in so quickly, “But it so is cheating!” You couldn’t drop it either.

“In what world?”

You shrugged, “Mine.”

“Fine.” He nodded his head placing the umbrella down in the shack, “What’s it going to take for me to get your name?”

Returning the smile while tapping your finger on your chin you answered him, “I don’t know yet Jake.”

Slumping over slightly he looked a tad defeated, “Well this is impossible.”

“Giving up already Mr. Seresin?” You challenged him. Another thing you knew military men loved, a good challenge.

Shaking his head vigorously he turned the frowned back into that charming smile you already loved, “No, didn’t say that did I?”

Shaking your head, you could only answer, “Fair play military boy.”

“Navy.” He corrected you. Not that you were wrong per say but you weren’t specific enough.

“Navy boy.” You nodded at him, as a touché, “What do you do for the Navy anyway?” You wanted the conversation to continue. Jake intrigued you. Not many people did. You’d come across all sorts of fascinating and downright boring people as you traversed the world. But few captured your attention longer than a few hours.

“If I answer, will you give me your name?”

Shrugging you answered, “Maybe.” You respected the little game he was playing. It was fun. Fun intrigued you. Fun kept you engaged with him.

“I’m a pilot.”

“Ohh, you get to fly fast planes?” He’d really got you now. Planes had always fascinated you. You loved adventure more than anything in the world, but planes always seemed to be off limits, especially fast ones.

“Something like that. We call them jets.”

You nodded along enthralled by the admission, “That’s really cool Jake.” It was a high compliment from you and Jake knew it. He knew he intrigued you as much as you intrigued him. You wouldn’t have tolerated his presence if you felt otherwise. Something he picked up on quickly, you spoke your mind and you weren’t afraid who heard. A rare quality he rarely saw in people.

“It is. I love it.” His smile softened for the first time around you. You noticed how the cheeky grin downturned ever so slightly into a more genuine smile. One you knew that likely didn’t come around often.

“Y/N. That’s my name.”

“Y/N.” He repeated back, “That’s beautiful.”

“You should tell that to my mother. My dad wanted to name me Heidi. She saved me from that childhood torture. Bless that woman.” Smiling you leaned back against the shack.

Jake smiled a bit wider taking in the small bits of information you were willing to share about yourself. He had a feeling you were a closed book masking being an open one. He understood, he was the same way. An extroverted persona on the outside and a hidden softer side that only came out around people that wee trusted. There was nothing wrong with this per say it was just exhausting. Having to put a wall up 24/7 wasn’t something you particularly enjoyed.

“Maybe one day I’ll get the chance to Y/N.”

You giggled. A sound you hadn’t heard in so long. The last time you felt this stupidly giddy from a boy’s comment was ages ago, back in college when you were tied down, “Maybe Mr. Seresin. Just maybe.”

The Third Incident

The day was brutal. The sun beamed down at you all morning and afternoon. You could hardly sit in the shade because almost all of your equipment was rented out. It wasn’t a bad thing. You were raking in tips. But it made for a long and exhausting day. That paired with no air conditioning made you feel like you were starting to go a little crazy.

So, when you turned over the key in your vehicle and it didn’t start you all but lost it. You let yourself yell once and shed a tear out of frustration before heading into Penny’s place. Lucky for you she opened up a bit earlier on the weekends to attract more customers from the beach who wanted to day drink.

You spotted the woman quickly before making a beeline straight towards her, “Penny, please tell me your mechanic of a boyfriend is around.”

She frowned, “No, he’s out of town. What’s up?”

“Damn.” You sighed taking a seat at the nearly empty bar. You hadn’t seen Jake and his Navy buddies sitting in the back as you made your way straight to the bar. But he saw you. He always noticed you. The simple chats started turning deeper as both of you tip toed around what you both wanted but neither wanted to admit, “This one’s going to cost me. Car won’t start. Hopefully it’s just the starter or the battery.”

Both of you were terribly afraid of commitment for one reason or another. But sometimes that spark that you find can’t be put out. The flame couldn’t be diminished. It needed to be explored. The spark was slowly growing into a flame and neither of you wanted to extinguish it but neither brave enough to let it grow. To let the flame, turn into a fire. For that meant commitment. And commitment was terrifying.

It made sense for Jake. He was always on the move. Always going from one base to the next. Early in his career he would try but it got too hard. It was hard to fall for someone and then have to move because he was reassigned to a new base. It was way easier being an asshole who was there for the hookup than commit to someone. But it was different now. He’d completed all his goals. Done what he wanted to accomplish as a pilot. If he ever wanted to be an admiral, he needed to clean up his act and excel as an instructor at Top Gun. Show Naval leadership he was meant to be a leader too.

It made sense for you too. You were in an amazing relationship throughout college. You’d met a boy early on in your freshman year and stayed with him through your senior year. He’d even proposed. But then he got sick. The sickness took him away from you. So, you ran. Your wild child was let out. You couldn’t be tied down again. You couldn’t go through that again.

“Oh, shoot. I’m sorry Y/N. How about a beer on the house?” She smiled as sweetly as she could. She knew how shitty the feeling was. Unreliable vehicles were the worst. Lucky for you it wasn’t a far walk home worst come to worst. The only downfall of the lifestyle was never having enough money. A tow was certainly out of budget. It needed to be fixed in the lot. You’d figure it out. You always did.

Sighing and lifting your head from the bar top you gave her a thumbs up, “Thanks Penny.”

Her eyes widened spotting the blonde pilot making his way over to you. Penny was many things, but she wasn’t dumb. She certainly wasn’t blind. She didn’t know Jake well, but she’d heard about him. Heard all the rumors of the fuck boy that he supposedly was. She’d yet to see it. Over the last few weeks, he’d had nothing but eyes for you.

Penny had also gotten to know you a whole hell of a lot better as you spent the last bit of your day here all too often now. There were usually hardly any customers and Penny lent the best conversation you’ve come across in San Diego. So, you started coming to the Hard Deck every day after work. She realized quickly that you were damn near oblivious to Jake’s feelings. Always flirting back but never agreeing with Penny about his intentions.

“Why the long face, sweetheart?” Jake had begun using those sweet terms of endearment a few days ago. Finally finding the courage to make his feelings a little more obviously known. But of course, you hadn’t a clue. It didn’t mean anything for you. Your way of deflecting, naturally.

“Jake, hey.” You straightened up a bit, “Car won’t start.”

He frowned, “That’s no good. Let me take a look.”

Your eyes peaked up in curiosity, “You know cars?”

“I know jets. How different can cars really be?”

Laughing you nodded, “I’m pretty sure they’re really different actually.”

“You have no faith in me darling.”

“Oh, have at it. Just don’t break it any further.” You smiled taking a sip of the beer. He stood for the stool waiting for you.

Giving him a quizzical look, he continued, “After you.”

“You were being serious?” You set the glass down. It wasn’t very often that people went out their way to help you. That was another problem with the nomadic lifestyle you’d become accustom too.

“As a heart attack. I’ve got some tools in my truck. I can figure it out.”

Hopping down from the stool you gave Penny a wave. She gave you a knowing head shake waving you off. Leading Jake to your car you popped the hood to give him a look.

“Can you turn it over?” He asked. Giving him a nod, you tried to start the engine only to be met with silence, “Just a dead battery. Let me go get my truck for a jump start.”

Another few moments and a jump start later you were met with a started vehicle. Jake parked the truck next to yours. Getting out you were too afraid to turn it off before driving to a car shop to swap out the battery.

“This time you’re my Knight in Shining Armour.” You gleamed up at him as he made his way to the driver’s side of your vehicle.

“I’m honored, really.”

“Thanks, fly boy. I gotta go get a new battery now.”

“Fly boy?” He smirked.

“Mhmm, heard you and your friends talking the other day. The girl said it and it stuck. I like it. Fly boy.”

He opened your car door, “Then you can call me fly boy. If you like it.”

“Didn’t know I needed your permission.” Again, you challenged him. You always seemed to challenge him. Making him second guess that smoothness that always seemed to work. Not on you though. You got the better of him all too often now.

The Fourth Incident

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You grumbled taking a seat in front of the knotted mess before you. You’d let the boys take the parasail up only for them to come back to you with a sheepish grin on their faces and a very tangled parasail before them.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Doug, usually your favorite co-worker replied seeing your very annoyed expression.

“It’s fine… just go help the customers. This is going to take me a while.” You let out a frustrated groan. At least it was a mindless task.

“Yeah, okay.” He nodded and quickly left, not wanting to get another earful from you.

“They certainly don’t make this job easy.” You sighed leaning back against the shack. You didn’t have a particular talent for untangling things, but you knew the boys certainly didn’t have the patience to even try. So here you were stuck with a loopy mess of ropes and cables.

“You always talk to yourself?” That now-familiar voice of the blonde pilot spoke out startling you from your focus.

Jumping slightly, you slapped his ankle, “You always stalk me?”

“I do not.” He scoffed sliding down the wall to sit down right next to you. He was close but neither of you made the effort to move farther apart.  Not even a little. He let his thigh rest against your bare one. It was a hot one, so you were without shorts, just bathing suit bottoms. He was testing your boundaries and you were more than happy to welcome him right on in.

“I didn’t say I was complaining about it.” You quipped back.

You earned a hearty laugh from him. A sound you’d learned to cherish over the blossoming friendship you wished would turn something more, “You never cease to surprise me Y/N.”

“Hopefully that’s a good thing.” You grinned up at him momentarily forgetting about the mess laid before you.

“It’s a great thing.” He answered quickly not wanting to place doubt into your head, “You’re incredible. You know that right?”

Heart stuttering you snapped your head back up to him. What was he saying? What was he trying to imply? Was he trying to get you all sorts of flustered because it was certainly working. You’d always been awkward when receiving compliments so when Jake threw that one at you it made you want to disappear right then and there.

“If you think so.” You nodded your head gingerly making sure to focus your attention on the rope and not the gazing eyes of the man you’ve been crushing on a little too hard.

He took your hand in his, “I know so. You’re beyond fascinating. Every time I get to know a little bit more about you, I’m infinitely more intrigued by you. Rooster called me out on it, said I never seemed to shut up about you.” He admitted. He wasn’t all too sure why he was telling you this. It was easy with you. He wanted to tell you things. Things he’d never dream of sharing with a girl before. But with you it felt so natural. So effortless.

It wasn’t often somebody could make you blush, but Jake was doing an exquisite job of it. A fiery blaze crested up your neck settling on your cheeks. Thankful it was warm out you could just blame it on the sun, “Rooster?” You questioned. You’d yet to meet any of his friends but that didn’t seem like a terribly common name.

“Bradley. The one with the stash. It’s a call sign. We all have one.” He smiled knowing just how odd it sounded when he said it out loud.

“What’s yours?” You asked wanting the conversation to go on. He too intrigued you. You seemed to get lost in conversation whenever you ran into him. It too felt natural with him. Like two puzzle pieces just waiting to be linked together.

“Hangman.”

You smiled wondering where in the hell that could’ve come from, “That’s an interesting call sign.”

“You think?” His eyes stitched together in curiosity.

“For sure. I wonder what mine would be? I’m not cool enough though. I’d never make it.” You admitted to him looking away afraid you’ve overstepped.

He studied you up and down as if trying to come up with one on the spot. Not a second later he responded with one, almost as if he’d thought it through before, “I’d call you Bird.”

“Bird?” You grinned curious as to why.

“You’re a free spirit. Like a bird. Floating through the air making it look effortless even though you’re working harder than ever. You have a certain ease to you that makes you so free.” He paused collecting his thoughts, “And you’d make it just fine. You’re more levelheaded than half the guys I train on a regular basis.”

“Oh, that’s frightening Jake. I’m not even that levelheaded!” You laughed feeling a bit concerned over the state of who was employed by the Navy.

“I know.” He winked at you letting his leg full press into yours. The closeness let goosebumps ripple down your legs sending a shiver over your body. It frightened you how easily he affected you both mentally and clearly physically, “It’s terrifying who they let fly those things huh?” He laughed taking a cable in hand beginning to help you.

“Suppose you have to be some level of crazy, eh?” You giggled picking up another cord after untangling the first.

“You bet sweetheart.” He turned his body more towards you, pressing his thigh further into yours. You were sure you were about to explode from the contact. Hopefully it didn’t look like it. You had to play this cool. You’ve been doing so damn good over the last few weeks. But he was making it hard, very hard, “So.” He continued before pausing again giving you a look as he picked up another tangled cable.

“So.” You responded by looking back at him. He was giving you a look you had yet to see from him just yet. Almost nervous?

“Where are you off to next? Doesn’t seem like you stay in one place for too long.”

You shrugged, “I’ll be honest. I don’t have a clue. I like it here though. Usually something just falls into my lap taking me onto the next thing…” You smiled reminiscing through some memories before continuing, “But like I said. I like it here. The weather is amazing, and the people are even better.”

You really hadn’t thought about moving on. Not yet at least. It felt like you’d finally gotten into a rhythm here. Normally that’d terrify you. But it felt so damn right here. Like something was begging you to stay. That something might have been sitting there in front of you. Even if you’ve only been here a few months and known him less than that it still felt right. If there was one thing you always did was trust your gut and it was telling you to stay. Screaming at you to stay. It was a foreign feeling for you, but you welcomed it. The nomadic lifestyle was utterly exhausting and somewhat lonely. You were ready for change as you approached your thirtieth year.

He cracked another smile at your last statement, “Yeah? Even better than the Swiss?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded looking up to him again. You could’ve melted right then in there if humans could. The look he was giving you could make a strong man weak, “Way better than the Swiss. Much cuter too.” You chimed in making sure he knew you were talking about him.

“High praise.” He smirked leaning his whole body just a bit closer. You’d usually protest as it was so fucking hot out but this was a dream for you. Jake was practically on top of you this time. It must have looked funny from a distance. Two sweaty young people lost in each other’s eyes almost on top of each other on the beach.

“It’s only the truth.” Your face was so close to his. God you’d give anything to just kiss him. But you wouldn’t dream of making that move. That’s far too bold even for you. And what if he didn’t want it? You’d never be able to live down that kind of embarrassment.

“Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah?”

“I’m planning on staying for a little while too. I’m tired of jumping base to base. I just want to stay somewhere for a while you know?”

“It’s tiring.” You agreed with him, “I get it.”

“Would you stay here?”

You nodded your head vigorously, “I would. For the right reasons.”

Licking his lips while looking at yours he mimicked your head nod, “Good to know.”

The Fifth Incident

Standing waist deep in the ocean you wanted to be annoyed but the man standing in front of you was making that very difficult to do so. His cute little grin and snickers only made you laugh along with him, “Which one’s the gas again?” Jake asked leaning back on the jet ski you were trying to get him to take out.

“Right hand is the throttle, for the fourth time Mr. Seresin.” Playfully rolling your eyes you walked around the jet ski to do the final checks ensuring it was up to snuff before he took it out on the ocean.

Grinning from ear to ear he knew he had you. He had you wrapped around his pinky finger. Not that he was any different. You had him whipped and you weren’t even dating yet. Instead, the two of you were dancing around deeper emotions every time you saw one another. And the two of you sure did see each other as often as possible. After he helped you untangle the mess that was the parasail the two of you made it a point to see each other every day. He’d come find you while you were wrapping up work or you’d meet him at the Hard Deck.

You’d even gone so far as to meet a few of his Navy friends, at his request. Being far too nervous and not having a clue what the relationship was with the blonde pilot you were nervous to meet them. He wouldn’t take no for an answer though, bringing them to you instead.

As unshy as you were with your opinions it was becoming harder and harder to have the ‘what are we?’ conversation with him. You were having far too much fun in this stage that you didn’t want to ruin it. You started to have legitimate feelings for the flighty boy. It terrified you a bit. The last time you allowed yourself to feel things it ended horribly.

But even you had to admit you were exhausted of running. Running from feeling things. Afraid to commit to somebody. Afraid to tie yourself down.

“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.,” Wiggling his eyebrows he leaned over towards you as you finished up the pre-op checklist.

“You’re welcome, Hangman.” This time you were smirking, loving to throw him off his game whenever you could. Initially refusing to use the call sign you decided to only throw it out there when you felt like you needed to one up him.

Eyes raised in curiosity he broke out into a grin seeing your expression. He’d never felt like this before. Felt so effortlessly comfortable around somebody. Like he knew you’d never judge him for a thing. You’d be there for him no questions asked. The two of you just clicking like nothing he’d ever experienced in his lifetime. He had to admit it terrified him a bit. But he was also excited. To try something new. To dive into a relationship with you headfirst. So long as that’s what you wanted. That’s why he was playing it so cool. He knew how much of a flight risk you were if he moved to fast. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you before he even had the chance to try it out. So, he decided to let you get comfortable and hopefully make a move. If you were too afraid to do so he’d do it eventually. He had nothing but time with you though. So, he wasn’t going to rush it. Terrified to mess it up before it started.

“So how long do I get out there darling?” He was testing your boundaries now. Wanting to see how you’d react.

Your heart rapidly picked up pace hearing that term of endearment escape his lips knowing that you could really get used to hearing it, “Thirty minutes. Then I have paying customers booked. So don’t be late.” You eyed him making sure he got your message loud and clear. He’d been begging you to go on one, but you’ve quite literally been booked out. Busy season was mad. But you had a customer cancel on you last minute which gave Jake the opportunity.

“Got it. See you soon pretty.” He shot you a wink before speeding off. Making sure to splash you with the throttle. Flipping him off you rung your hair out as you walked out of the ocean.

You’d only noticed he’d been gone for a little too long when the next clients walked up. You searched the ocean spotting Jake drifting a little bit further out than he should’ve been. Hopping on the reserved Jet Ski for staff you took off in his direction.

“What the hell Jake? I said thirty minutes.” You frowned at him pulling up beside his weirdly quiet one.

“I would’ve darling but well, it died on me.”

“Hop on.” You sighed annoyed the stupid thing gave out on you. It always reminded you of how cheap the dude who ran this place was.

You hooked the tow line up to it, getting good at it now, before towing everything in, “Looks like you caught me at a bad time.” You felt him chuckle as he pressed his chest into your back. Taking full advantage of being the passenger. You were thankful you couldn’t see his shirtless chest, that’d surely send you over the edge now.

“At least it’s you this time.” You laughed along with him. You felt as his arms tightened around your waist. Pulling him all that much closer to you.

Much to your chagrin you reached the beach before you knew it. Jake waited around as you got the family off on their adventure. Approaching him with a grin on your face you sat next to him at the picnic table by the shack, “Have fun at least?” You asked.

“Absolutely. Any time I get to spend with you is a good time.”

Pushing his side lightly you hid your gaze away from him, “Cheesy.”

“Only for you.” He snaked his arm around your waist. Not forcing you to look up to him but letting you know he had you.

Another goofy grin graced your features. He always knew what to say, “You’re sweet to me Jake.”

He nodded, “Because I like you. A lot. You know that right?” He admitted straight out. He let you go at your own pace, but he wanted you to know now. He knew. He adored you. He’d never felt this type of way with anybody before you. He thought he had but he realized he hadn’t. This was something special.

“You do?” Confusion then joy broke out from your face

“I do.” His smile turned up even further seeing the recognition cross your face. Had you really not known? Or were you in your own head like he had been so many times before?

“Like more than friends like?” You asked to confirm.

“Way more than friends.”

“Oh, wow.” You turned away heart racing. Sure, your face was as bright as a cherry tomato it was now or never. He’d laid it all out on the line for you. You could do it.

“Hopefully that’s a good wow.” Smirking he leaned a little closer to you.

It felt like your heart stopped for a moment, “It’s a very good wow.”

“Yeah? Then you’ll let me take you on a date?” Jake didn’t often look nervous, but he looked terrified now. He hadn’t expected this. Not even in the slightest. But he’d roll with it.

“You’d want to?” You returned your eyes back to his.

“Oh darling, I’d love to.” He reassured you taking your hand in his.

“Then I say yes.”

“Tomorrow?”

“You that excited?” You teased him.

“Sweetheart, I’m more than excited. Whatever that is.” Tossing you a wink he stood from his seat, “I’ll pick you up at six. Can’t wait to see you pretty.”

[scotianostra]

On March 3rd 1883 three hundred inhabitants of the remote Shetland island of Foula were on the point of starvation as the first supply boat of the year reached the stormbound community.

Foula, often described as the "Edge Of The World" is our most remote inhabited island. It is situated in the Atlantic Ocean approximately 20 miles to the west of the Shetland mainland. It is an island of crofting townships, breath-taking sheer cliff drops, and a wealth of wild flowers and wildlife.

Over a century ago, in 1881, Foula had a population of 267, mostly employed in fishing...at the last census in 2001 that figure had dropped to just 38.

On March 3rd 1883 the Shetland Times published this;

The Weather and Mails – Foula

Nine weeks have now expired since our last mail was landed, and all our resources are almost exhausted. Sugar and tobacco have been all done for more than a fortnight, and tea, coffee, etc, are now done also. Those who had a little meal to spare have helped those who had none, a thing often done in Foula, but if the weather does not moderate we will soon be all alike. The boat has been in readiness now for some time to go to Walls for supplies, and as the weather has become a little more moderate today they are going to make a start, so we hope that they may get safe through, and a chance to return again soon. But we doubt if the mail boat will be able to cross today yet, as the wind still inclines to the westward.

There isn’t much more than this about their plight, but it seems that same day they breathed a sigh of relief as a boat must have made it to Mainland and back successfully.

Today crofting as well as fishing are the main activities, half the population living at Hametoun in the south east and the remainder to be found at Ham near Ham Voe on the east coast. The island is not connected to any mainland electricity grid system. In 1987 a community electricity scheme was constructed, comprising a 3.3kV island grid which linked diesel generators, a wind turbine and a hydroelectricity scheme to the island’s properties. This scheme gradually fell into disrepair and has undergone a major refurbishment, funded primarily through grants.

Before refurbishment, the entire island's power was supplied by one of the two diesel generators which operated between approximately 7.20am and 00.30am. That’s not to say they were without power for the, just under 7 hours the generator is off, a battery/inverter system was installed between 2006 and January 2007, a solar charging array helps top up the batteries as well . The system was fully commissioned at the beginning of March 2007 and already the islanders not only have continuous power ( instead of the previous 17 hours per day) but are noticing considerable savings in diesel fuel use. Since diesel has to be shipped in by ferry (and often the weather is too bad for the ferry to run for up to 3 weeks on end) this of huge value.

An interesting feature of the island's people is that they still observe the old Julian calendar, replaced in 1752 in Britain by the present Gregorian system which deleted 11 days from the year. Remote areas of the country kept to the old calendar, adding an extra day in 1800, which was a leap year, and some parts of Shetland continued to observe festivals 12 days after the dates in the new calendar. The most remote areas kept to the old calendar longest, and the people of Foula still celebrate Christmas on 6 January and New Year's Day on 13 January

Travel to the island is by sea or air and is completely dependent on suitable weather conditions.

A wee bit more, and a short video can be found at the link below.

[madhatterbri]

Unholy | Demon F.B.

Summary: Maybe a date, a candle lit dinner and Grace goes to Nana and PopPop's (readers parents) and things get ummm passionate quick. Much to Demon's chagrin. 😂 18+.

Author's Note: Changed a little.

Finn Balor Masterlist

Requested by: @judgmentalunicornghost

Taglist: @theworldofotps @mrsarcherofinfamy @smallestsnarkestgirl @magicalbuttertarts

"Oh, thank hell," the Demon sighed when he heard Y/N's parents come through the front door. Grace slid off his back. Her tiny hand patted his tendrils. They were just playing the Wild West before the visitors arrived.

"Good horsey," she smiled and pinched his cheeks. With an evil giggle, she left the room. The Demon glared at the open bedroom door. At least she didn't offer him a carrot this time. He crawled to his room and waited for the doting grandparents to leave. Y/N's parents didn't know about the Demon, and that was best for everyone.

Y/N walked to his bedroom a few minutes after her parents left. The Demon heard they took Grace for the night, and he wasn't pleased. Now, he didn't have anyone to play with. Not that he necessarily needed her. No Demon would ever need a human. He could do anything he wanted.

"The coast is clear," Y/N announced when she entered the room.

The Demon was about to make a smart remark yet stopped. Y/N was dressed in nice clothes. She looked almost pleasant to look at. "Why are you dressed up?"

"Finn and I are going to take advantage and have a date night. Just the two of us. We haven't done that in months. Don't worry. You'll have the place to yourself. You don't have to play Sea Biscuit with Grace anymore,"

The Demon scoffed. "I never worry about the activities of useless humans and I could have made her stop if I wanted to I just didn't,"

"Sure thing. Well, we are going to be out late. Grace has her tablet if you guys want to talk. Have a good night, Demon,"

"Grace has her tablet. Have a good night," he mocked and rolled his eyes. Y/N rolled her eyes at him. It was like dealing with a teenager sometimes. She closed the bedroom door.

The Demon heard the front door open and close. He hummed to himself. He walked around the room apartment before he let out a curse. With no one at home, he grabbed his own tablet to reach out to Grace.

The Demon fell asleep early that night. The tablet still held a video call between him and Grace. Her sleeping face appeared on his screen while his appeared on hers. The peace in the house was rare. The last time he slept this good, he still ruled a piece of Hell.

A sudden thud against a wall in the apartment startled him awake. When the noise stopped, he started to fall back to sleep. The thud happened once more except this time it was louder.

The Demon crawled out of bed. He left his room. Sounds came from Finn and Y/N's bedroom. Curiosity had him in a hold. Quietly, he peered through the crack of the door. A horrified look appeared on his face.

Y/N was riding Finn. Their lips connected to quiet their moans. Her hand gripped the hair on the back of his head. Her other hand placed on his shoulder to steady herself. Finn sat against the headboard. Handcuffs kept his arms spread out against the headboard.

"Oh, Finn, I'm so close," Y/N moaned when she separated from him.

"Give it to me, Y/N," he grunted.

With one final sound coming from each, they reached the peak of their orgasm. Their foreheads pressed together. After catching her breath, Y/N reached for the keys on the nightstand. Finn's arms were released in no time. He rubbed his wrists and rolled them around. They laid under the covers and drifted off to sleep.

With his mouth dropped in shock, the Demon scurried back to his room.

The next morning started like any other. Y/N was cooking breakfast for everyone. Grace was still at her grandparent's place. The morning was quiet until the Demon showed up in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Demon. Sleep well? Grace is going to be here around lunchtime," Y/N greeted as she started cooking some eggs.

"Oh, Y/N, nice to see you in clothes," the Demon smiled warmly. "Where is Finn?"

"He's asleep. With Grace gone, we kind of slept in a bit this morning," Y/N answered. "And with work he just wants to get some extra sleep,"

"Yes, he certainly has been tied up lately,"

[onekindredspirit]

“Man oh man I was FREE! Free to have a beer, have a smoke, happy, what you can call, all the time. They was free days”

This is Russian Jack or Barrett Crumen.

The only thing is, Russian Jack wasn’t Russian and his name wasn’t Barrett Crumen.

He was Latvian, born in the village of Alexandra in 1878 and his name was possibly Barnis Krumen.

He arrived in New Zealand on the night of June 23rd 1912 when, as a crewman on the British steamer Star of Canada, he was shipwrecked off the Gisborne coast during a wild Southern gale.

To save money, he decided to walk to Wellington city, a journey of some 600 kilometres.

He didn’t stop walking until ill health forced him off the road in 1965. 53 years of walking.

Russian Jack was a swagman or swagger.

The term swagger originated in Australia (“Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong, under the shade of a Coolibah tree…”) and describes an itinerant farm worker who carries all their worldly possessions on their back, in a ‘swag’. Russian Jack was reputed to carry the largest swag of all the swaggers. He did not beg, he worked and in his youth he was known for his strength.

There is a whole history of swaggers in New Zealand dating back to the hard times of the 1880’s.

But Russian Jack was the last swagger and, as it happened, walked the roads around where I live.

There was opposition to this statue. “It commemorates swaggers.” they said.  Others thought he didn’t deserve the honour.

Hahahaha

“Such a cool statue honouring freedom.” I said to myself as I walked by …

One Kindred Spirit

Reclaimed Blue Polaroids - One Kindred Spirit Colour Image - Margaret MacPherson (District Nurse) On the road near Waituna West, Manawatu 1960

[jennyboom21]

Before Taylor Swift was sparking headlines about "squad goals" or attracting throngs of Hollywood stars to The Eras Tour, she and Dianna Agron were nearly inseparable.

The "Style" singer and "Glee" star became close in 2012 and were quickly identified in the media as "blonde BFFs." However, the following year, Swift and Agron suddenly seemed to lose touch. They haven't been spotted together since 2014.

Keep scrolling to see everything we know about the once-close pair.

They became friends while Swift was working on 'Red'

It's unclear how and when Swift and Agron met. In 2010 and 2011, Swift became friendly with "Glee" stars like Cory Monteith and Chord Overstreet, so it's possible the women were introduced by Agron's castmates. They both attended the 2011 Vanity Fair Oscar Party, but there's no evidence they interacted.

Swift and Agron were spotted in public for the first time on September 4, 2011 at a flea market in Los Angeles. Swift was between shows on the Speak Now World Tour, while Agron had recently wrapped a series of Glee Live! concerts.

By this time, we know that Swift was in the process of creating her fourth album because she had already written "All Too Well."

According to her diary excerpts (released alongside "Lover" in 2019), the beloved song was conceived in February 2011. She decided to name the album "Red" in September 2011.

Dianna Agron and Taylor Swift in 2012.

January 7, 2012: Agron tweeted that Swift looked 'beautiful' on the cover of Vogue

Swift was photographed by Mario Testino for the February 2012 issue of Vogue, for which she was given retro-style bangs. According to a behind-the-scenes video, the photoshoot took place on the eve of her 22nd birthday.

"Taylor looks all kinds of 70's beautiful....and love a hat! Great job," Agron wrote on Twitter, tagging both Vogue and Swift.

March 25, 2012: Swift and Agron went to see 'The Hunger Games' together

A group of fans snapped a photo with Swift and Agron at the theater during the movie's opening weekend.

April 12, 2012: Agron shut down rumors that she was in a 'love triangle' with Swift and Tim Tebow

For some reason, in early 2012, tabloids ran wild with a theory that Agron was dating NFL quarterback Tim Tebow while Swift was harboring a "puppy dog" crush on him.

During an appearance on "Jimmy Kimmel Live," Agron quashed the rumors. She clarified that she had a "10-minute chat" with Tebow and hadn't seen him since.

Kimmel also asked her to address her relationship with Swift: "Are you dating her? That would be great."

"Wouldn't that be juicy?" Agron replied, blowing a kiss to the camera and adding, "Hi Taylor."

April 24, 2012: They wore vintage gowns and flower crowns to celebrate Shirley MacLaine's birthday

Swift, who costarred with MacLaine in the 2010 film "Valentine's Day," played dress-up with Agron and two more friends in honor of the actor's 78th birthday. The small group shared photos of the occasion on social media, though most have since been deleted.

"We dressed up full-time fancy and went out in celebration of Shirley MacLaine's birthday," Swift wrote on Twitter, per E! News.

"Had a long day & don't know what to celebrate later…? Because you need a moment to be young? Find your moments," Agron added in her own tweet.

April 28, 2012: Swift celebrated Agron's 26th birthday

Swift wore a tiger costume for Agron's circus-themed birthday party, which she called "the most magical night" on Twitter.

"The blonde BFFs have been spending a lot of time together as of late," E! News wrote.

May 15, 2012: They dined together in Los Angeles

Paparazzi caught Swift and Agron leaving Dominick's, an Italian restaurant in West Hollywood, after a Tuesday night dinner.

July 4, 2012: Swift and Agron spent the holiday in Hyannis Port, Massachusetts

Swift was spotted in the famous East Coast town during Fourth of July weekend, mostly hanging out at the Kennedy compound. She was accompanied by Agron and their friend Claire Kislinger (neé Winter), according to the Boston Herald and Us Weekly.

Kerry Townsend, the granddaughter of Ethel Kennedy, tweeted at the time: "Arrived at my Grandma's house to find her chilling with Taylor Swift and Dianna Agron. I hope I'm this cool when I'm 83!"

October 22, 2012: Swift released 'Red,' which includes a dedication to Agron

Swift is known for leaving coded messages for fans in the liner notes of her album. The secret message for "22" was four names: "Ashley Dianna Claire Selena."

In addition to Agron and Kislinger, these most likely refer to stylist Ashley Avignone and Selena Gomez. The song is about spending a carefree night with friends, though hints of ill-advised romance are sprinkled in: "You look like bad news / I gotta have you."

There could be another reference to Agron in the liner notes for "Everything Has Changed." The song's secret message is "Hyannis Port," where Swift spent some time with green-eyed Conor Kennedy that summer. ("All I've seen since 18 hours ago / Is green eyes and freckles and your smile," Swift sings.)

However, many fans have noticed that "Hyannis Port" is actually misspelled in the liner notes as "Hyiannis Port," which mirrors the spelling of Dianna (who also has green eyes).

The day that "Red" was released, Agron congratulated Swift on Twitter with a screenshot of her phone playing "Everything Has Changed."

December 3, 2012: Swift and Agron both attended the Ripple of Hope gala

Swift and Conor Kennedy reportedly split in October 2012 after a few months of dating. However, later that year, Swift was still honored with the Ripple of Hope Award from the Robert F. Kennedy Center for Justice & Human Rights.

The annual gala was held at the Mariott Marquis in New York City. According to E! News, Swift had Agron "by her side" throughout the event. She also performed "Starlight," a song from "Red" that was inspired by Ethel and Bobby Kennedy.

"Was a beautiful night last night. The RFK foundation provides help to so many truly deserving," Agron tweeted. "Plus @taylorswift13 was truly lovely."

April 2013: A fake artice, which claimed Swift and Agron were dating, went semi-viral

Shortly after Swift embarked on the Red Tour, a doctored screenshot from a fake tabloid began circulating on Twitter. The headline from Stars Daily, which does not exist, said "Taylor Swift is in a new relationship...but it's not what you expected."

"Country pop singer Taylor Swift has confirmed being in a relationship with Glee star Dianna Agron," the fake article continued. "Lesbi-honest! Right after the rumors were confirmed, the two were spotted out on a dinner date." (The attached photo was from Swift and Agron's dinner at Dominick's in 2012.)

On April 23, 2013, "Skins" actor Dakota Blue Richards tweeted about the rumor: "So apparently Taylor Swift and Dianna Agron are dating. Sorry Brangelina, you just got taken over as the worlds hottest couple."

Neither Swift nor Agron publicly responded to the rumor. But Richards' reaction seemed to increase its virality, and the following day, Agron deleted her Tumblr.

"Thank you friends for following the journey," she wrote in her final post. "But as an old chapter closes, a new chapter begins."

September 4, 2013: Swift, Agron, and other friends went to a Fun. concert

"Modern Family" star Sarah Hyland shared a video from backstage at the Fun. concert, which took place at the Greek in Los Angeles. Swift is featured in the short clip, while Agron is briefly shown standing off to the side.

"Watching @OurNameIsFun live tonight at the Greek was unforgettable," Swift wrote on Twitter, per Taste of Country. "Such incredible musicians and showmen. It was just SO good."

Two days later, Agron also tweeted an inside joke about the concert, tagging Swift.

This seemed to be the last time they intentionally hung out (at least in public).

October 27, 2014: Swift released the deluxe version of '1989,' which includes a breakup song called 'Wonderland'

The lyrics of "Wonderland" clearly reference "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," the 1865 novel by Lewis Carroll. When Swift performed the "1989" deluxe track as a surprise song on The Eras Tour, she said it was a "twisted" take on the fairy tale.

In the song, Swift describes her muse as having green eyes and a "Cheshire Cat smile." She says they "fell down the rabbit hole" and got lost in Wonderland, all without considering the consequences.

"Haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds?" she sings in the pre-chorus, a reference to Alice's observation that "curiosity often leads to trouble."

Swift concludes in the bridge: "In the end, in Wonderland / We both went mad."

Some fans have drawn a connection between "Wonderland" and Agron, who has repeatedly tweeted about her love for Alice.

"I love 'Alice in Wonderland' and 'The Hobbit,'" Agron said in a 2011 interview with Elle. "Those books got me into reading and storytelling — I could escape to a different world."

Indeed, Agron reportedly had a Tumblr, deleted in 2013, that was called "felldowntherabbithole."

She also had a reference to "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" tattooed on her ribcage: "We're all mad here," which is a quote from the Cheshire Cat. Fans noticed that Agron was in the process of removing her tattoo in 2017.

November 23, 2014: They had a brief interaction at the 2014 American Music Awards

Although she spent most of the evening with Karlie Kloss, photographers did catch Swift having a moment with Agron at the 2014 AMAs, where she also performed her single "Blank Space."

This was the last time Swift and Agron were seen together in public. Notably, Agron did not appear among Swift's many celebrity friends in the 2015 "Bad Blood" music video, which seemed to confirm they were no longer close.

October 5, 2019: Agron went to 'SNL' when Swift was the musical guest

Agron was photographed leaving 30 Rock after "Saturday Night Live" finished filming. Swift was that night's musical guest — she performed "False God" and the title track from "Lover" — but there's no evidence she interacted with Agron inside.

May 7, 2023: Agron was asked about rumors that she and Swift were 'in a relationship'

During an interview with Rolling Stone, Agron was asked about her influence on Swift's music, specifically "22."

"Me? Oh, if only! That's more because of a friendship than being the inspiration for the song," she replied. "But I would not be the person to ask about that. I cannot claim that!"

The reporter also asked how Agron felt about being "shipped" with Swift, which he explained as, "You two were made out by the media and some fans to be in a relationship."

In response, Agron described the speculation as "so interesting."

"I… I mean, there have been many stories about my dating life that are so wildly untrue. That's funny," she said.

[elisela]

‘I missed you’ + sterek

west coast swing sterek, wild about you, long distance relationship

—

Somewhere in the air over Colorado, Derek gets cold feet.

It’s insane what he’s doing, actually. It’s just—no reasonable person would buy a last-minute ticket halfway across the US just because they miss the guy they’ve been dating for all of six weeks. Even if he and Stiles talk and text so often that Derek feels like it’s been twice as long, it’s just not … it’s not him. It’s not something he would usually do, and the rush of adrenaline he’d felt buying the ticket and driving to the airport is starting to fade, leaving anxiety and doubt in its place.

He blames Kira. And Jordan, who’d made a considering face and said, “Actually, I think you should go for it,” when Kira suggested he go meet Stiles out west. Lydia had called out her agreement behind him so she’s also on Derek’s list of people to ignore for the rest of his life if this turns out badly; even Allison hasn’t escaped potential blame, because she’s the reason he has a rolled up, ratty poster in his carry-on bag.

This is a mistake. He should just grab a hotel in Anaheim for the night and fly back to St. Paul in the morning. Maybe call Cora and see if she’s still in San Diego, but if she’s not he’d have to explain why he’d asked and he’s not up for that. Another point to the absolute insanity of this decision—he hadn’t even thought to book a hotel before throwing clothes into his bag and leaving.

He needs to never listen to his friends again.

—

A notification pops up on his screen as he’s scrolling through available hotels, then a torrent of them—all the texts from Stiles he didn’t get while he was in the air. Derek hovers his finger over the screen for a few wavering seconds before tapping on it, watching as the screen fills with four hours worth of Stiles’ thoughts, questions, and right at the bottom—

Stiles Stilinski [2:34pm]: Sorry for all the messages I didn’t give you time to respond to

He frowns, swiping away the text from Lydia that drops down in order to respond.

Derek Hale [2:34pm]: I didn’t have service, sorry. Not ignoring these—composing my essay about the validity of pepperoni and pineapple in my head right now, you’ll get the fully edited version later tonight.

Stiles Stilinski [2:35pm]: Heads up that the peer review board is going to be striking that one down as soon as it’s submitted.

Derek grins at his phone and navigates away so he’s not tempted to spend hours talking instead of actually making a decision, then clicks on Lydia’s text so he can put off making said decision for a moment longer.

Then he stares.

Lydia Parrish [2:35pm]: Did you know Jordan’s never been to Disneyland? Unbelievable. No time like the present though, right?

He’d ask if it was a joke, but Lydia had apparently anticipated that and had sent a photo along with the message, Jordan’s outline silhouetted against one of the large airport windows.

Derek Hale [2:37pm]: I didn’t need a babysitter.

Lydia Parrish [2:37pm]: Of course not. I took the liberty of booking you a room at our hotel. The confirmation is in your email. Lydia Parrish [2:38pm]: Coincidentally, it’s the same hotel the team is staying at tomorrow night. Lydia Parrish [2:38pm]: Our flight doesn’t get in until much later tonight, I’ll text you when we land. Lydia Parrish [2:38pm]: Just know we’re doing this because we love you and support you, but also because we knew there was a 90% chance you backed out before the game.

Well—she wasn’t wrong. He sighs, pushes off the wall he’d been leaning against outside the Starbucks, and opens his email as he makes his way outside to where the line of taxis wait.

—

He buys Lydia and Jordan tickets to the game—another thing he’s putting firmly on his questionable decisions list, if only for the teasing that will occur once they realize what he’s brought with him. He goes to Disneyland with them in the morning, takes pictures he’ll share on his Facebook later, and picks up a pair of Yoda ears he thinks Stiles would get a kick out of. Halfway through the day he gets a text—Stiles complaining about an extra mandatory practice, followed by a half-hearted threat to trip and injure himself to get out of said practice. But he really must have to focus because he doesn’t text again until later, just as they’re leaving the park and heading back to the room to get ready for the game.

Stiles Stilinski [3:54pm]: Do you watch my games? Stiles Stilinski [3:54pm]: I should actually be congratulated on my restraint because I’ve been wanting to know if you’ve changed your mind about hockey for weeks but I held back. Stiles Stilinski [3:54pm]: There’s no right answer but there’s definitely a wrong one so you know. Tread lightly. Or lie.

Derek has not really changed his mind about hockey, but it’s not like he’s watching the games for the hockey aspect of it.

Derek Hale [3:55pm]: I watch most of them. Some of them start too late for me though.

And then—inspired, he texts again.

Derek Hale [3:55pm]: Do you want me to watch tonight?

Stiles Stilinski [3:55pm]: Derek Stiles Stilinski [3:55pm]: I kinda always want your attention Stiles Stilinski [3:55pm]: In case you hadn’t noticed

—

Surprisingly, there’s no teasing. It’s the opposite, in fact.

“This,” Lydia says, pointing at where Derek’s unrolling the Marry me, Stiles Stilinski sign, “is romantic. Jordan? I hope you’re taking notes. You could learn a thing or two.”

Jordan grins and rolls his eyes, even as Derek shoots him an apologetic look. “Got it. You want a sign asking you to marry me.”

“Ha, ha,” Lydia says, sinking back into her seat. “I do want some of those fish tacos though, if you needed ideas.”

“You can both go get the tacos,” Derek says, because players are starting to appear at the tunnel for warm-ups and he’d like them both gone. Or there and quiet, but he knows that will never happen.

“Oh no, we’ve got too many people to send videos and second by second reports to,” Lydia says sweetly. “Speaking of—I’m pretty sure that’s him, so—no, Derek, don’t cover your face with the sign, Jesus.”

Derek’s stomach is in knots. It’s too much, it’s not enough; he wants Stiles to come over and give him the same wide smile he’s been used to seeing every day and also wants him to skate by without seeing him at all. His hands feel sweaty as he grips the poster, plastering it to the glass in front of their seats, and he looks down at the concrete floor like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen the moment he sees recognition dawn on Stiles’ face.

“Derek,” Jordan says quietly, warm hand patting Derek’s back, “he’s smiling, man. Look.”

Stiles is less smiling than grinning maniacally, and he all but throws himself at the glass. “Derek!” he yells, and the knot that’s been in Derek’s stomach since Colorado vanishes. “What are you doing here?”

Derek grins back helplessly, and the words come easy in the wake of Stiles’ obvious joy. “I missed you,” he calls back.

Some of the exuberance slips off Stiles’ face, and Derek is suddenly looking at a smile that’s softer, much more private. “I missed you, too,” Stiles says.

—

Stiles Stilinski [1:38am]: You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me

Derek Hale [7:35am]: I know

Stiles Stilinski [10:16am]: Nvm I take it back

Derek laughs when he picks his phone up, leaning back when he feels Stiles slide in behind him in line for coffee, a kiss being placed on the back of his neck.

You’re the best thing that’s happened to me too, he writes, and hits send.

[generic-whumperz]

Vinny (Character Sheet)

Picrew

Playlist | Masterlist | Character Info

Playing opposing roles as Wyatt's partner in crime and Waylon's inside man, Vinny skillfully navigates the tumultuous dynamics between his older cousins, guided by genuine love and loyalty.

After The Aid's shocking murder attempt on Wyatt, Vinny took it upon himself to assume a greater role as The Aid's keeper, a move that revealed his pragmatic understanding of the asset's value to the Sullivans' empire and his surprising knack for diplomacy. When not attempting to broker moments of harmony between Wyatt and The Aid or covering supply runs for the family business Waylon mans, Vinny fuels his own destructive habits with Wyatt—recklessly hitting casinos and bars before scoring a bag to split for the night. Vinny is fiercely driven by his desire to help maintain family power and status in Apocamerica's supply chain, quelling both brothers by serving Waylon by day and partying with Wyatt by night. Despite his twisted, one-sided “friendship” with The Aid, his unwavering kinsmanship with Wyatt outweighs all as they both share a hunger for twisted delights–and Wyatt knows just how to fan the flames of his wild side.

Full name: Vincent Warren Sullivan (Vinny)

Role: secondary antagonist, Whumper/part-time Carewhumper

Date of Birth & sign: June 1, 1985 (47), Gemini (story takes place in the year 2032)

Gender: cis-male

Sexuality: pansexual

Height: 6'2"

Weight/body type/build: 180lbs-ish. Wiry, long-limbed, a bit pigeon-chested.

Hometown: Newark, New Jersey

Family Members: Sullivan family tree. He bounces around a lot because of work but basically lives with Wyatt. Very close with Wyatt and Waylon, basically their brother.

Left/right handed: right

Fav genre of music & anthem: 90s & early 2000s rap (claims East Coast is superior, yet his anthem is a West Coast classic), How I Could Just Kill A Man by Cypress Hill

Occupation: "Independent contractor." Jack of all trades and Waylon's right hand: fixer, security, transportation guard, caporegime (capo), hitman, former Army medic, torturer and snuff film cameraman. Somehow knows a little something about everything and always "knows a guy." He didn't get his HS diploma or GED; instead, he joined the Army soon after he got out of Juvie.

Ethnicity (+ American): Italian, French, Greek, English, Romanian, Bulgarian, Turkish, Serbian, Armenian

Hair color & length: dark brown/brown-black wavy mid-length grown-out hair. Usually combed and slicked back to make it look straighter than it is, shaved down on the sides with an undercut. Some chest hair, but not super hairy. He is usually clean-shaven around his signature petite goatee.

Hygiene: looks like he smells like an ashtray and liquor, and usually does. Not the best hygiene, also not the worst, somewhere in the middle, but is more up-kept when on the job. He uses minimal products and will just dose himself with cologne to mask the cigarette and vodka smell. But he takes good care of his teeth and has a collection of grillz, usually sportin' gold tooth caps on both canine teeth + inlay, and gold trip gap filler between front teeth (pictures below).

Eye color: pale, steely blue, almond-shaped, and hooded eyes.

Skin tone: olive with cool undertones. He can get a lot darker if he gets a tan, but he is usually inside or hiding under shade if outside, so he's rather pale.

Facial features: long, inverted triangle-shaped head. Thin, boxy upper lip mouth. Long, downturned, Roman nose. Straight eyebrows with little to no arch. Narrow ears. Narrow jaw, long chin. Long, thick eyelashes that make him look like he's wearing eyeliner. He usually has bags under his eyes because he's running on nothing but 3 hours of sleep, caffeine, and coke.

Mannerisms: clicks tongue or runs tongue over his gold teeth, sniffs/wrinkles nose, clears throat, and purses lips frequently. Lots of face twitching. If he's not smoking, he's smacking on some gum or snacking on gummy candy. Fidgety, has a hard time sitting still, therefore he’s either pacing or bouncing a knee. Bit of a jabber jaw, sings or hums tunes (someone thought they had a rap career as a youngin). Gets bored easily. Obsessively cleans his guns and knives. Resting bitch face looks like he's unamused or irritated. He snorts and laughs a lot, always cracking jokes. Files his nails daily. Cracks knuckles, neck, and back. Shuffles a deck of cards he has on hand. Checks his tackle-box drug stash he carries around like a lunch pail.

Nervous ticks: it takes a lot to make him nervous since he's spent a lifetime rubbing shoulders with gang members, spent time in juvie, in the trenches of war zones, and as a professional hit man, and has killed countless anthrophages without hesitation. He's good at maintaining a level head in stressful situations, but even he has his limits. When he's actually nervous, he'll rub his chin with his index finger, comb his fingers through hair and scratch his head, yell and punch things, may shoot off bullets into the air or throw knives at something, and in an effort to collect himself, he'll swallow hard and count backward from 5 or 10 to try to ground and calm himself. Rolls his shoulders and shakes his head as if trying to shake off the tension.

Posture: relaxed, cocky and confident. Go-to stance is the power pose with his hands on his hips or clasped in front of him (and perhaps fingers wrapped around a gun). He often leans against things with one shoulder. Uses a swagger walk with a lot of sway in his shoulders. When sitting, he's usually laid back with his legs spread or hunched over, fiddling with something in his hands. Moves a lot and shifts from side to side if he's sitting or standing—rather douchey body language.

Style: in a pressed, solid black Giorgio Armani suit with black Italian leather loafers (when working), in a dingy tracksuit with a white tank underneath, or jeans with a T-shirt or button-up and a leather jacket with motorcycle boots. Wears chains around his neck, rings, and small hoop earrings. Always strapped and always blinged out.

Guns he always has within reach—Colt 1911 Government, 45 ACP, 7 + 1, Cathedral, All 24K Gold, and GLOCK 20 Gen 4 Semi-Auto Pistol (pics).

Health: for as many drugs he does, the amount of cigarettes he smokes, and the volume of alcohol he drinks, he's surprisingly healthy—or as healthy as he can be. He works out a few times a week and gets in his cardio with jogging and boxing. Agile and can fight. He doesn't have the best diet but thinks eating a salad every other day, chugging protein shakes, and eating trail mix is the secret to his health success. Enjoys a good smoothie creation with The Aid, and it doubles as a small, weird thing they bond over.

Piercings/tattoos: ears pierced and wears small rings, bunch of tattoos—like too many for me to go into detail right now. Here are some tat ideas I swiped off Pinterest (I didn't make any of these) to give an idea, a tat mood board, if you will.

Birthmarks/scars: scar around his neck from when a gang of kids tried to strangle him to death with a wire in juvie. He has a lot of scars from fighting and his time in the Army, but covered them up with tats.

Language(s): English. Thinks he knows Italian, doesn’t.

Personality: dependable. Loyal. Sycophant to rivals. Cleaver. Resourceful. Quick-witted. Surprisingly competent and knowledgeable. The embodiment of controlled chaos. Voyeuristic. Talkative. Spontaneous. Fidgety. Protective. Restless. Sarcastic. Tough. Cocky. Dangerous. Rowdy. Violent. Noisy. Impulsive. Vulgar. Aggressive. Pragmatic. Inquisitive. Can be cruel and debaucherous. Teasing. Eager. Can take on a mediator role between Waylon and Wyatt, or Wyatt and The Aid. Oddly, he reserves a gentler soft side (as gentle and soft as he can get, that is) for The Aid. Low-key psychotic and dominant (as are all Sullivans).

Vices: benzos (Xanax), cigs, coke (lines or rubs it on his gums, but refuses to smoke it because that's "crackwhore behavior"), shots of hard liquor (preferably Cîroc or Gray Goose vodka). Shooting things. Breaking shit. Throwing knives or darts. Going on a ride on his motorcycle. Dismembering anthrophages or cutting up an already dead cow at the slaughterhouse.

Voice: raucous, sarcastic, and neurotic. Has a thick New Jersey accent. Kinda raspy. Sounds animated and expressive with a wide range of tones, pitches, and speeds.

Smells like: burnt rubber and oil from doing donuts on his bike. Cigs, alcohol, leather, and too much cologne, probably something like Gucci Guilty, or GIORGIO ARMANI Acqua Di Gio.

Face claim(s): Adrian Brody.

Character inspiration: put all these guys in a blender, add ice, and shake it up, and you have yourself a Vinny smoothie—Vincent Vega (Pulp Fiction), Edward Blake/ The Comedian (Watchmen), Todd Alquist (Breaking Bad & El Camino), Mickey Milkovich (Shameless).

Other: Admittedly, my second favorite Sullivan.

Moodboard

[confusedfoam]

Some dndads travel headcanons, because why not it's summer and it's traveling season for lots of us. only did s1 dads because they unfortunately still own my heart.

Darryl

- He has left southern California like twice in his life, and both were just going up to northern California. once for his and Carol's honeymoon, and another time when grant was like 8ish to finally go visit Casey and see her brewery.

- Absolutely despised sleeping anywhere that's not his home. the few times he's had to stay at a hotel / families house he just can't sleep at all

- He has never been on an airplane and has absolutely no desire to do so. If he ever did go on an airplane he would be a disaster internally and externally that would come out as being extremely over prepared and way too early. also he would Suffer in airplane seats.

Ron

- Was dragged all up and down the west coast and some of the interior as a little kid before Willy got completely sick of traveling with his wife and kid and dumped them back in Stud's old house that he technically still owned but had been let sit for years.

- Good at short and long road trips, weirdly bad at anything in the 4-6 hour range. it's not long enough to him to really settle into the drive but is too long to be remotely casual.

- Deeply fond of sketchy dates motels and kitschy roadside attractions. Will absolutely buy cheesy tourist t-shirts if presented the opportunity.

- Also not really an airplane guy, never had much of an opportunity until he was grown and then had no one to travel with. But if he did fly he would be that guy who doesn't bring anything to do with him and just watches other people's movies over their shoulders. also he'd forget to take his belt off going through airport security.

Henry

- Never left the Oakvale area as a kid, so his first trip was a Big One

- Spent his early earth years road tripping around the US, hitting different national parks and such. Falling absolutely in love with the diversity of nature when you don't spend all your time in one patch of forest. He absolutely Lost His Mind at the Grand Canyon

- Continued to travel a lot as he and Mercedes got older and had the kids and everything, they loved taking the boys to different parks and camp sites and such.

- Also really enjoyed traveling internationally once he got his whole paperwork situation sorted.

- Was pretty freaked out about flying the first couple times, but now he's a pro. Unfortunately he is an incredibly chatty seat mate and also one of those people who wears sandals without socks on an airplane. so he puts his bare feet all over the floor at security

Glenn

- Traveled a very average amount as a kid, just little family vacations. Tagged along with where ever Bill was going during summer breaks as a younger teen.

- Drove all over the freaking country as an older teen / young man seeing various shows and trying catch The Glenn Close Trios big break.

- Shares Ron's fondness for weird little tourist traps and questionable attractions / restaurants

- Extremely pro car camping, if only for all the hazy memories of doing so in his youth.

- Would make sure that somehow he could block out a week or so to take a road trip with Nick somewhere during summer break.

- Flew a few times as a kid and such. Absolutely hates flying as an adult, it brings out the conspiracy theories in him hardcore and he absolutely cannot do it sober.

Jodie

- Hell does not have vacations

- Traveled many realms as a young and wild demon, having misadventures of the sort that get you trapped in a guitar

- as Jodie Foster the human cop and married man they only took incredibly basic family vacations to the stereotypical vacation spots like once a year.

- Has no feelings on airplanes in any particular direction, besides he would like more leg room.

[midnightraine131]

Love Letters from the Skies to the West Coast Chapter 7 - Sixteen & Wild

Pairing: Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart

Tags: Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Teenage Love, Awkward First Times, Slow Burn, POV Armin Arlert, Bottom Armin Arlert, Wet Dreams

Warning: R18 contains sensitive topics

Summary: They say the most judgmental people are those who attend church on Sundays. Despite growing up in a Christian household, Armin Arlert felt overburdened by the pile of ministry activities assigned to him. So he made a pact with himself to never follow in his father's footsteps and become a pastor. With the goal of saving enough money to persuade his parents to let him move to another state after high school, he started accepting paid essay projects in school in secret. Everything in Armin's busy life seemed manageable until he met Annie Leonhart, a Californian girl whose parents had moved her against her will to Vermont. Upon discovering Armin's secret business, Annie approached him with a unique request- to write love letters for a long-distance lover. To craft the perfect love letters, she would help Armin embark on a journey of firsts— his first kiss, first hug, first date, and first everything in a relationship.

A week had passed since the camp. Usually, after big events like this, the youths would have a week of rest from their ministry duties in the church. As a result, Armin had ample time to finish all the essays in his backlog, draft half of Annie’s letter, clean his room, bathe the kitten, complete his assignments for the weekend, summarize the topics he would discuss in the Bible studies, and submit them to the church leader. For him, nothing was more satisfying than seeing all these tasks finished on a Friday night.

Having a Saturday without much to do was something new for him. His parents weren’t blasting worship songs on the stereo at seven in the morning or barging in to force him to come down and eat breakfast with them. He took this chance to finish his devotion for the day.

Besides his usual routine being disrupted, waking up without seeing Annie next to him made him feel like he was missing something. Lately, more clients had been coming into the clinic, so Hange asked Annie to work a half-day shift today. Armin considered dropping by later to see her—but then what? Bring her food? Ask her to go to the mall with him? Hang out in the treehouse? Was it considered asking her for a friendly date?

Maybe not today.

She was probably tired after working the whole week following the exhausting days at the camp.

Armin shook his head, forced himself out of bed, and locked his window before taking a fresh towel from the cabinet. He switched on the heater before stepping into the bathroom.

Examining his hair, he found it annoyingly frizzy but decided it might not need a wash today since he had no plans to go out. He sprayed dry shampoo on his hair, massaging his scalp until he was satisfied before brushing the strands with his powdery fingers. He took one black elastic band to tie his hair up, noticing it had grown a bit longer now that the tie could hold it more tightly, though some shorter strands still escaped and fell to his ears and cheeks. He glanced at the mirror to examine his appearance. His long hair, soft features, and petite frame made him look fragile. He didn't need to wonder why Annie liked him.

[chaseadrian]

graze, blaze, haze

—day 4. shotgunning // [kinktober masterlist] Argyle doesn't care that you don't know how to use a bong, and he definitely doesn't care when his lips touch yours. Except, he really does, and so do you.

pairing. argyle/f!reader wc. 2.2k tags. 18+ ONLY, facesitting, making out, first kiss, marijuana use, friends to lovers, nipple play, blowjobs, premature ejaculation

“It just seems overly complicated to me. Can’t you make like, brownies or something? I’d rather eat my drugs.”  

Argyle sits between your legs on the floor, a green pipe with scattered burn marks on the glass in his lap, “No can do, my friend, not unless I want the Byers’ kitchen to smell rank for a week.” 

You tug a little too hard on the brush in your hand, catching a knot at the back of his head, but he doesn’t give sign of irritation or even acknowledgement. You comb your fingers through the strands where the knot was, a little pang of guilt in your chest. If he felt the pull, he would’ve ignored it anyway.

Argyle was the first guy in your life to even let you touch his hair, much less take a pair of scissors to it. Steve would run screaming, Eddie wanted his wild and unkempt, nothing but soap and water allowed, and you wouldn’t dare try to undermine Joyce’s home haircuts, no matter how dated they were becoming. 

No, he was the first, and it’d become so commonplace that he felt comfortable enough spinning out of his mind on his west coast weed while you held sharp scissors to his hair. 

You’re spinning out on your own right now, butterflies thumping in your stomach as he sits against you, an arm thrown over your knee. That was another thing about him, the touch. The puritanical culture of Hawkins—with hands by your side and prayers to stave off temptation—was antithetical to Argyle’s whole deal. He didn’t think twice about wrapping an arm around your shoulder, or pressing his palms into your cheeks during an anxious tirade. It was hard not to take it for something more than what it was, your heart in your throat every time he made contact. 

“I’m telling you I literally can’t do it, then.” You say, smoothing your hand over his hair, trailing the brush as it breaks through what few knots he has, “I always forget to move my finger or hold my breath too long or inhale an ember and have a full breakdown because I think there’s a hole burned in my throat. I just like, can’t use a fucking bong or pipe or anything.” 

You set the brush down, letting out a frustrated sigh, and he pats the side of your knee, “Hey, no worries, I got you.” 

He leans down and takes a long pull from the pipe, twisting around to face you, his hand coming to the back of your head, bringing you close. Without conscious effort, your jaw drops and he leans in just enough to blow the smoke into your mouth, his bottom lip grazing yours as he turns away. As if that’s the most normal thing in the world. As if you can’t feel the heat from his mouth still on your lips. As if you aren’t frozen in place while your nerves shake more from the intoxication of Argyle’s lips than the effects of the smoke. 

Several minutes pass in silence, his head resting on your inner thigh, thumb scraping at the loose threads of torn denim on your knee. You grab the brush and start combing his hair out again, shaking off the moment, reorienting yourself in friendship. You can deal with the longing and the butterflies, maybe, probably. 

At the very least, you can survive as long as things stay at the same level as they've been. Your hands on his hair, him comfortable between your legs.

“You want more?” He asks after several more minutes of calm silence, and you consider saying no, but there’s a light buzz under your skin that makes you say, “Yeah, uh, yeah, totally.” 

You brace yourself this time, squeezing the brush handle tight in your fingers, mouth open a little wider, hopefully a failsafe against his lips touching yours. 

When he brings you down this time, though, you don’t keep them open. You close them for a kiss. 

It’s a small peck, barely there, but he stares at you with surprise, and the smoke escapes when his lips fall open, a quiet ‘woah’ in the air between you. You watch his eyes flick up, can almost actually see the gears turning in his brain, and just as you’re leaning back away from him, he starts to smile. 

It turns into a full grin, his eyes glassy and shining, staring blatantly at your lips. 

You both slip into the next moments with ease, leaning down to kiss him again, mouth warm and bitter and soft. He kicks over the bong as you slide into his lap, murky water and gray ashes spilling onto your carpet. 

“Shit, sorry, dude,” He tries to break from you to clean it up, but you pull a dirty shirt from behind you on the floor and throw it over the mess. 

“Literally don’t care.” You speak against his mouth, leaving space between kisses for him to relax back into it. 

“You sure?” He asks, his eyes still fixed on the lump under the shirt. 

“Mhm.” You kiss the corner of his mouth, his cheek, the soft curve of his jaw, and finally you feel him melt into you. 

His hand rests over your thigh, fingers pressing into the jeans, and he slides down to the crook of your knee, pulling you closer in his lap. He isn’t firm with his touch, more a guiding hand than a driving force, but you curl entirely into him, your arms slung around his neck. 

It’s quickly apparent that he’s content to follow your lead, his tongue only slipping into your mouth after you’ve pushed yours into his, his hand only running over your breast once you’ve put it there. 

You pull back, “Argyle.” 

His lips are plump and red, and he’s surprised to break away from the kiss, his voice full of air, “Huh, yeah, what?” 

“You sure you’re in the right headspace for this?” You ask, running your hand down his arm. 

“Y—yeah, no, I’m—I’m—” He starts nodding, his eyes wide, hands pressing firmer against you. There’s nothing to read off him but enthusiasm, and he welcomes you back to his mouth with a full, open mouthed kiss. It’s sloppy and wet, and you want more. You both fall into a sloven, messy rhythm, your mouths too busy to care what your hands are doing until the clothes on your body become restrictive. 

Your shirt is the first to go, breasts dropping from under the oversized tee, and Argyle’s hands come quickly over them. He palms them like dough, runs his knuckles over your nipples until they’re taut, the focus that was on your mouth centers instead on your breasts. You don’t know that anyone has marveled at you like this before. 

“Unreal,” He whispers, interrupted by a giggle as you slip your hands under his shirt. 

You smile at him as you take the layers off, “Ticklish?” 

He holds back a laugh, pursing his lips and tilting his head up at you, “I may very well be.” He says, fingertips make their way over your skin until it’s you that can’t help giggling.

“Oh, ticklish?” He mocks, and you wrap your arms around his bare chest, bringing him back for another kiss. 

The heat of his chest on yours is unbearable, and it’s not long before you’re both down to your underwear. 

You straddle him on the floor, one hand grabbing at the warm flesh of his biceps as his arms lay flat beside his head. You lean over him on one elbow, fingers knotted at the top of his hair, sucking hickeys into his neck. His moans are loud sighs rather than palpable noises, breath shaking and uneven. The firm print of his dick under his boxers grows against your pelvis, and you press down into him, backing away to watch how his features shift. The slow grind of your hips has him grabbing at your breasts again, and he pulls you up to his mouth, sucking kisses around the flesh before his lips close over your nipple. 

He swirls his tongue over the pebbled skin, flicking back and forth, a quiet hum vibrating over your skin from the back of his throat. His hands come down to your ass, and he pulls back from you, licking his bottom lip, and almost lifting you up to his face. 

“Ope, wait, shit,” You topple over as he tries to bring you closer, catching yourself with a hand on his shoulder. He offers a lopsided smile, and an earnest, “Woah, my bad,” his fingers tapping along your inner thigh. 

You stand up beside him and slide the panties off, swallowing hard before you kneel back down over him. This isn’t something you know about from anything other than the jeering ‘hey, sit on my face, sweetheart!’ comments you’d gotten from boys growing up. They felt more like a mockery than a genuine proposition, but Argyle’s hands rest delicate atop the front of your thighs, and he encourages you to settle down against his mouth. 

His tongue slips between your lips, flat over the wet stripe of skin, just nicking the top of your clit. Almost immediately, the pressure is insurmountable, and you let your weight drop a little more. He starts slow, with lazy licks up and down, side to side, just slicking you up with spit. 

You lean back and rest your hands on either side of his stomach, fingers firm in the plush skin, letting your head fall as he works you. He tilts his head forward, prodding the tip of his tongue against your clit, quick circles around the bundle of nerves, a kiss here and there. His touch is intentional, if a bit hesitant, but you can feel his confidence grow as you push harder into him, almost forgetting to care if you’re suffocating him. 

Sharp spikes flock up your body as the pressure mounts, and you lean forward to grind on his face, firm tongue laid flat over your cunt. Again, he’s ready to let you take the lead, but a few well placed licks send you careening into your orgasm, hips sputtering on top of him. He nuzzles his face deeper between your legs as you ride through it, shaking his head back and forth, and you squirm over him trying to get away. 

It’s now that he holds you, arms wrapping around your thighs, not letting up until he can hear you trying to catch your breath. 

You fall backwards, your head at his waist, hands rubbing over your face with exasperated groans. 

“You good?” He asks, and you can hear the satisfaction in his voice. Any nerves he’d had coming into this were well on their way out. 

“Yeah, fuck, good.” Lifting your hand in the air, you shoot him a thumbs up before rolling off onto the floor, the carpet colder than your bare stomach. You fold your arms in front of you and tilt your head to look at him, catching sight of the wet patch on his underwear. 

“I—uh, well,” He clears his throat and watches you push up onto your knees. 

“Are you all good?” You ask, slipping two fingers under the waistband of his boxers and sliding them down to release his softening erection. 

“Totally, super good,” His voice catches in his throat when you drag your tongue over his dick. It twitches while you continue to lap up the sticky, salty cum that’s dribbled down the tip, and Argyle lets his head fall back with a thud! before combing a hand through his hair.

You take him entirely in your mouth, surprised at his length, but willing to choke on it for whatever residual bit of pleasure you’re giving him. His fingers play at the back of your head, wanting but not willing to push you down. He threads them instead between strands of hair, quiet, airy moans and involuntary spasms spurring you on. 

More than content on your knees, content with the feeling of his hand grazing down your skull, you decide to yourself that the only stopping point here is when his dick starts to soften. You squeeze at his inner thighs with one hand, breaking your lips away to kiss marks that’ll be visible when he wears shorts. You don’t feel entitled to claim him as yours, there’s weed and adrenaline running through you both, but it doesn’t feel like a one-off. Wrapping your lips around him again, you press your tongue to his underside as you bob up and down, moist suction sending tangible shivers through his body. 

He taps at your shoulder, and you look up to see him staring slack jawed at the ceiling. 

“Yeah?” You mutter, wiping your mouth. 

“Maybe I’m not in the right headspace anymore,” His voice is flat, eyes wide, breathing heavy, “Think I’m like, way far out beyond any headspace.” 

You laugh, and drag a blanket from your bed, throwing it over your bare bodies. 

He slides a hand under you, still staring blankly at the ceiling as you curl up to him. 

“Argyle?” You tilt your head to look at him, and he hums. 

“That was like…okay, right?” 

The question breaks him from his stupor, and he looks at you with gaping awe, blinking a few times before he speaks, “That was so far past okay, I don’t know how I lived without it, know what I mean.” 

You press a kiss to his jaw, and settle into him, “Yeah, absolutely I do.” 

[cellythefloshie]

;; Falling For You Part of the Like a Good Neighbor Collection

Summary: You get home from a Tinder date with the full intent of a hookup, but Matthew manages to put a stop to it - even while he's all the way on the West Coast. Kinks & TW: situationships, masturbation, sex toys, catching feelings Word Count: 1935

“Just a second, I can’t find my keys,” you muttered, your hand delving into your purse and rummaging through the mess in its confines. Your hand moved through it almost aimlessly, fumbling over one item and then the next as you leaned against the door frame. It was a welcome support, your ankles wobbling in your too-high heels that you had done your best to master for the night - but now that you were so close to being home your body yearned to be free of them. Unsteady on your feet, you let out a frustrated huff and dropped your bag to the floor and you followed not long after. 

Your name echoed in the air as you reached down to pull off your heels, leaving them abandoned on the hallway floor before you returned to your hunt for your keys in the depths of your purse. Your fingertips grazed over your keys once, then again as you leaned back against the support of the door, your lips pulling up into a smile as your date crouched down to help you. You could feel his large hands against your own as they reached into your bag, earning a laugh of disapproval from your lips. 

“Ah, ah, I almost got them,” you assured your Tinder date and looked up at him through a curtain of your hair that had fallen down in front of your face. 

You weren’t lying, not entirely, as your fingertips toyed with the key ring at the bottom of your bag. You could have lifted them out of the bag with ease, but no, you were stalling - Stalling on the off chance that Matthew would be at home and hear you out in the hallway with a man that was not him. The two of you, you weren’t exclusive - hell, you hadn't even come close to having a conversation about what your relationship was beyond late nights and fucking - but you hoped that bringing another man around would work him up just enough to give you a proper screw later. But the longer you stalled, the more it gave you time for it to hit you, Matthew wasn’t coming to the door. 

He wasn’t home. 

“Shit shit shit!” you cursed your hands clasping around your keys effortlessly now. 

“What is it, baby?”

“I’m missing it!” You shouted, pushing up from the floor and sliding the key into the lock with ease. 

“Missing what?” he was beyond confused as he stood up and stepped back to give you enough room. 

“The Panthers game,” you near hissed as you kicked your bag just outside the door and left the shoes behind in the hall. 

“I didn’t know you were into hockey,” his words sounded like more of a complaint than a realization and it earned the roll of your eyes. 

He didn’t know much about you beyond what you had put on your profile, and you were sure there was a lot to complain about if he were to really get to know you, but he couldn’t make it more clear that he wanted nothing more than to sleep with you. 

It only became clearer as you settled down on the couch, perked up and attentive, and fidgeted with your controller in a desperate attempt to pull the Panthers game up on your television. Your fingers slipped over the buttons, clicking the wrong ones as you felt his body weight shift the sofa behind you. His legs came to rest on each side of you, and his hands began to explore as he whispered against your neck, “do we really have to have the game on, right now?”

“I told my…” you hesitated slowly as you licked your lips, your eyes moving over the Panthers bench as the game came to life on the screen, “friend that I would watch the game.” 

“You’re watching the game,” he hummed against your flesh before his lips parted, and placed a slow kiss against the angles of your neck. 

Months ago, the hot kiss would have been enough to intoxicate you. His touch would have driven you wild, and you never would have thought twice about inviting him into your bed, but now all you could think about was the Panthers game. As his hand was dragging down the curves of your body, the second period was just starting, and the Panthers were up 2-0 over the Kraken on the West Coast. And as his lips continued to take an assault on your flesh, Matthew had all of your attention as they replayed the Carter Verhaeghe goal he had assisted on in the first period. Your heart began to race as they showed him on the bench, chewing on his mouthguard. 

Fuck, Matthew. 

Your eyes were near fluttering as they gazed at the television screen. Watching Matthew on the bench when the camera panned to him, and on the ice as he took his shifts. While you knew he was on the other side of the country, your mind was quick to betray you as it thought only of him. Matthew and how his hands felt against your body. Matthew and the taste of your lips on your tongue - and then it shook you, leaving your lips agape and eyes wide. 

“I need you to leave,” you spoke to your Tinder date abruptly - though it didn’t feel all that abrupt to you. 

“What?” he was quick to snap, his expression disgusted as he pulled back from you just enough to look over your own features, “you’re joking, right?”

“I thought this was what I wanted,” your tone was soft, almost meek as you pulled back and put space between yourself and your date who was merely a stranger, “but I was wrong. I’m sorry, really. Just please go-”

He was quick to retreat, with nothing more than a few complaints about having paid for your dinner and not even getting his dick sucked on the way to your door. You followed quickly behind, assuring the door closed and was locked behind him, but it didn’t bring you the relief you were searching for. No, you were further consumed by your turmoil. 

“For fuck sake, Matthew,” you cursed, your hands reaching up to run over your face and up into your hair, “you ruin everything, don’t you?”

You almost wished he was home, so he could hear you curse him for what he had done to you - and what you were about to do. 

Each of your steps through your apartment were full of intent as they carried you from the front door to your bedroom. You didn’t hesitate as you crossed the threshold, and nothing could distract you from your destination: the drawer of your bedside table. You pulled it open swiftly and reached in for the vibrator you kept there. With it in your hand, you didn’t settle on your bed like you would normally, instead you returned to the living room where the Panthers game continued to play out on the television. 

You placed the vibrator down on the arm of the sofa before your hands made quick work of your clothes. Leaving them in a heap on the living room floor you made yourself comfortable in front of the television with your legs spread and every inch of you exposed as you reached for the vibrator. With a simple flick of the switch, it began its gentle buzz in your hold. You held it there for a moment, wrapped in the hold of your fingers against your palm before you leaned your head back against the cushions and let your hand carefully guide your vibrator to your needy clit. Its pulse wasn’t enough to send you whimpering - you had grown used to its intensity with time - but when you looked up at the television and caught a glimpse of Matthew on the bench you let out a desperate whine. You so desperately were wishing he was there with you in your apartment. That it was his hands stroking the inside of your thighs and not your own. 

Shutting your eyes, you pictured him there between your thighs with that grin he always seemed to be wearing on and off the ice. Matthew would lick his lips at the sight of your desire for him before leaning in and tasting you with your tongue. Your breath hitched at the thought and you pressed down against your clit a little harder with the careful circling of your vibrator. Your core clenched at the friction, your mind spiralling so quickly as the crowd on the television sounded in protest. 

Matthew had scored and it left you groaning,  “Fuck, yes, Matty.” Your hips reeled before your angled them down just right. Then with your free hand dipping along the inside of your thigh,  the touch of your fingers sought out your slick entrance. The tips of two fingers traced along your eager slit slowly, collecting your slick arousal on them, before you plunged them into your cunt until they were knuckle deep. They were nowhere near as long as Matthew’s fingers, nor were they as long, but they would have to do. They didn’t feel like much more than his forefinger, so you imagined it as his teasing touch. 

Picturing him there, down between your legs with a cocky smile, sent your breathing unsteady. It shallowed and hastened as your pleasure began to coil deep inside you - but it wasn’t enough. You needed more. Fumbling your vibrator, and losing it somewhere on the couch where its vibrations filled the air with its gentle hum as it was lost in the upholstery, you rolled over so you could rest on your knees. From there you rode your own fingers until your own arousal was dripping down over your palm and your cunt was left with the contracting waves of your orgasm. It left you breathless, panting, with the whisper of his name on your lips. 

Slowly, the pleasure faded, and you began to find your sanity once more, and with it, you were left swearing. “Jesus Christ,” you chastised yourself, going as far as to say your own name, “you’re so pathetic.”

A single hand carded through your hair as you settled back to sit comfortably on the couch. There, shamelessly naked,  you watched the rest of the game unfold. The Panthers would take the game in the 4-1 victory, with Matthew collecting 2 points on the night. It had you reaching for your phone, your fingers tapping so confidently at the screen before you stopped yourself. You deleted every word you had intended to send to him before tossing the phone away and out of reach. 

Yes, he had a great night and he had texted you earlier in the evening to remind you to watch the game but the last thing you needed was for him to think that your little arrangement was anything more than just sex. Hell, after what you had just done, you couldn’t even concinvce yourself of that fact. 

You were just giving your body what it wanted. 

Right?

Letting out a heavy breath, you turned off the television and found your phone once again. The urg to text Matthew had left you, but you knew you had to do one thing before you let yourself crawl into bed alone. As you settled into the comfort of you bed, you deleted the dating apps on your phone and cast it aside with one final sigh. 

You were catching feelings for your neighbor, Matthew Tkachuk, but you would fully deny it if he asked.

[literaticat]

How far ahead of pub day do bookstores usually receive new books? Does it differ depending on if it's a big chain or an indie?

I don't know the deets on chains, I guess their deal could be different, but I'd say more likely it differs based on the publisher, and where in the country the publisher's warehouses are located compared to where that bookstore is located.

Let's say for example the warehouse is in Pennsylvania, and they ship it out on Monday of the week prior to pub date, East Coast booksellers will get it by Tuesday or Wednesday -- West Coast booksellers will get it Thursday or Friday. If the warehouse is in Ohio, bookstores in Chicago will get it quickly, bookstores in Hawaii might not.

On-sale date is always on Tuesdays, and books usually come in to the store between two weeks to a couple days before on-sale date, in MY experience. The goal is that all the bookstores have the book before on-sale date and they generally give themselves plenty of time -- if they knew for a fact that, say, a shipment had fallen into the sea or wild animals had eaten a container full of books and things were unavoidably delayed, they would likely change the on-sale date for everyone.

SOME publishers (like Scholastic) tend to get their books out a little early, and there aren't strict lay-down dates for most titles (unless there's like, a new Dogman or Hunger Games or something) -- so whenever the book gets in to the store it can go on sale. An October 13th book that arrives October 9th, is fine for the store to sell.

SOME publishers (like Macmillan & PRH I believe?) DO have strict lay-down dates for ALL new titles, so there are stickers all over the boxes like "DO NOT PUT ON SALE UNTIL 10/13" -- they might arrive on October 9th, but they have to be kept in the back until the 13th.

If I were to go to the bookstore right now, on Sunday, I'm certain I would see a stack of books on a cart in the back that are meant to go out on Tuesday, and another little pile on a shelf with NEXT Tuesday labeled that just happened to come early, and one or two books for two Tuesdays from now that came in REAL early. And maybe a box or two will come tomorrow (Monday) that are also this Tuesday or next Tuesday ones.

[scotianostra]

On March 3rd 1883 three hundred inhabitants of the remote Shetland island of Foula were on the point of starvation as the first supply boat of the year reached the stormbound community.

Foula, often described as the “Edge Of The World” is our most remote inhabited island.  It is situated in the Atlantic Ocean approximately 20 miles to the west of the Shetland mainland.  It is an island of crofting townships, breath-taking sheer cliff drops, and a wealth of wild flowers and wildlife.

Over a century ago, in 1881, Foula had a population of 267, mostly employed in fishing…at the last census in 2001 that figure had dropped to just 38.

On March 3rd 1883 the Shetland Times published this;

The Weather and Mails – Foula

Nine weeks have now expired since our last mail was landed, and all our resources are almost exhausted. Sugar and tobacco have been all done for more than a fortnight, and tea, coffee, etc, are now done also. Those who had a little meal to spare have helped those who had none, a thing often done in Foula, but if the weather does not moderate we will soon be all alike. The boat has been in readiness now for some time to go to Walls for supplies, and as the weather has become a little more moderate today they are going to make a start, so we hope that they may get safe through, and a chance to return again soon. But we doubt if the mail boat will be able to cross today yet, as the wind still inclines to the westward.

There isn’t much more than this about their plight, but it seems that same day they breathed a sigh of relief as a boat must have made it to Mainland and back successfully.

Today crofting as well as fishing are the main activities, half the population living at Hametoun in the south east and the remainder to be found at Ham near Ham Voe on the east coast. The island  is not connected to any mainland electricity grid system.  In 1987 a community electricity scheme was constructed, comprising a 3.3kV island grid which linked diesel generators, a wind turbine and a hydroelectricity scheme to the island’s properties. This scheme gradually fell into disrepair and has undergone a major refurbishment, funded primarily through grants.  

Before refurbishment, the entire island’s power was supplied by one of the two diesel generators which operated between approximately 7.20am and 00.30am. That’s not to say they were without power for the, just under 7 hours the generator is off,  a battery/inverter system was installed between 2006 and January 2007, a solar charging array helps top up the batteries as well .  The system was fully commissioned at the beginning of March 2007 and already the islanders not only have continuous power ( instead of the previous 17 hours per day) but are noticing considerable savings in diesel fuel use. Since diesel has to be shipped in by ferry (and often the weather is too bad for the ferry to run for up to 3 weeks on end) this of huge value.

An interesting feature of the island’s people is that they still observe the old Julian calendar, replaced in 1752 in Britain by the present Gregorian system which deleted 11 days from the year. Remote areas of the country kept to the old calendar, adding an extra day in 1800, which was a leap year, and some parts of Shetland continued to observe festivals 12 days after the dates in the new calendar. The most remote areas kept to the old calendar longest, and the people of Foula still celebrate Christmas on 6 January and New Year’s Day on 13 January

Travel to the island is by sea or air and is completely dependent on suitable weather conditions.

A wee bit more, and a short video can be found at the link below.

https://www.shetland.org/visit/plan/areas/foula

[bluesylveon2]

I am DEEPLY enjoying this event. #41 with Rook Hunt please (bonus points if MC is a singer)

This was lowkey kinda fun to write because it made me think about one specific tiktok. I hope that you enjoy!

Word Count: 958

Notes: modern au and chaos

Warning: not beta read and possible ooc characters

Being at the gym at night was Yuu's dream. No one was there since it was late and it was quiet. There was barely anyone there, and Yuu could count how many with one hand. 

One of Yuu's favorite things was hopping in the shower and singing like she was a pop star. There were barely any women there, often leaving Yuu to sing as long as she wanted. It's not like the poor guy working up front cared anyway. 

Yuu happily hummed the newest song released by her favorite artist as she made her way to her designated stall with her stuff. Despite no one there at the time, Yuu liked to go in one specific shower because it was far enough from the entrance to give her privacy. The girl continued her humming as her body automatically moved to her shower. She opened Magicfy on her phone, and music filled the empty stall as she placed it back in the caddy. 

I know a place

Where the grass is really greener

Warm, wet n' wild

There must be something in the water

Yuu got lost in the song and loudly sang as she cleaned herself. No one was there or listening, so Yuu did not care. Little did she know about the other presence entering the shower room.

"Now, what do we have here…" A man, who was also naked, said aloud. 

California girls

We're undeniable

Fine, fresh, fierce

We got it on lock

West coast represent

Now put your hands up

"Ooh, oh ooh."

"Ooh oh ooh," A male voice sang along, causing Yuu to freeze. The music played, and the male sang in the background as Yuu slowly turned to face the frosted glass door. 

"Why are you on the female's side?!" Yuu yelled out, causing the male to stop singing.

"Female? Non you got it all wrong, mademoiselle. This is the male's side."

"No, it's not. I can prove it to you," Yuu said, stepping towards the door.

"Wait! I'm-" The door opened, causing the man to stumble from how close he was standing. To regain his balance, he reached out to something, which happened to be Yuu, and fell.

"What happened?" Yuu placed her hands down on something hard and pushed herself up. She froze when her eyes landed on her hands resting on a toned chest, blonde hair splayed out on the floor, a handsome face and a very naked man under her looking at her in shock. She did not even want to look down to see what was down there. 

Wait…

"AHHH!" Yuu screamed as she struggled to stand up and jump away from the blonde like he was on fire. She immediately grabbed her towel to wrap around herself and her shower caddy. 

“Je suis désolé, mademoiselle!” He attempted to go to her, but Yuu moved away. "I tried to warn you earlier-"

"That was my fault! I should have looked where I was going! I'm so sorry about that!" Yuu yelled and made a beeline to the door, leaving a confused but blushing man behind.

---

It had been a week since "the incident," and Yuu wanted nothing more than to not see that man again. She had decided to burn and hide that memory in a deep part of her brain where no one, except herself and a divine being, could see it. 

Yuu stepped inside of the cafe and took a deep breath. According to her friend, Trey, Rook, his coworker, was very eccentric. Rook had moved from France to work in Crewel Research, one of the best-known research laboratories in the world. Yuu tapped her fingers against the table while waiting for her date with Rook. Trey had insisted that Rook would be a good fit for her as they shared common interests like science (not to the extreme like Trey and Rook) and the arts. Yuu thought Rook was interesting enough to meet as he is known for seeing beauty in everything. 

The sound of a bell jingling caused Yuu to look up. Her smile immediately faded as her eyes landed on the same blonde male she had been trying to forget for a week. 

What is he doing here?? Yuu thought as she was coming up with her escape plan. She was considering just running out when the man met her eyes. His eyes lit up, and he smiled as he headed toward her. 

"Mayday! Mayday! ABORT MISSION! ABORT!" Yuu's mind screamed at her, but her body refused to move. 

Yuus heart pounded against her chest as The man stopped beside the empty seat. “Bonjour, you are Yuu, non?”

Yuu opened her mouth to say no when she realized something. "How do you know my name?"

The man chuckled and held a hand out to the empty chair, looking at Yuu expectantly. Yuu hesitantly nodded and let the man sit. "Trey mentioned you a lot at work, and you are as beautiful as I imagined."

Yuu's eyes widen, and her mouth opens in an "o." The world must be laughing at her now because the man she was trying to forget was sitting in front of her right now, and that means-

"Wait…are you Rook? Trey's coworker?"

Rook smiled and held a hand out to Yuu, His green eyes gleaming. "Oui. We started on an interesting note before, so let me introduce myself properly. I am Rook Hunt, and you are?"

"Yuu Crowley, Yuu replied and shook her hand with his.

Rook smiled as he brought Yuu's hand up and lightly kissed her knuckles, causing the girl to blush. "What a beautiful name, Yuu. I look forward to our date."

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

[tokidokitokyo]

山形県

Japanese Prefectures: Tohoku - Yamagata

都道府県 (とどうふけん) - Prefectures of Japan

Learning the kanji and a little bit about each of Japan’s 47 prefectures!

Kanji・漢字

山　やま、サン、セン　mountain

形　かた、かたち、なり、ケイ、ギョウ　shape, form

県　ケン　prefecture

東北　とうほく　north-east, Tohoku (northernmost six prefectures of Honshu)

Prefectural Capital (県庁所���地) : Yamagata (山形市)

Yamagata in southern Tohoku is known for natural beauty, impressive skiing, and hot springs. The prefecture is enclosed by the Sea of Japan to the west and mountains to the east, with port cities along the coast and secluded skiing and hot springs in the mountains. The mountain temple of Yamadera (or Risshakuji) was visited by the famous poet Basho and is the subject of one of the most famous haiku poems in Japan. The spectacular snow-covered trees in the mountainous areas are referred to as "snow monsters." The prefecture also produces 70% of Japan's cherries.

Recommended Tourist Spot・おすすめ観光スポット

Yamadera/Risshakuji - 山寺／立石寺

Photo by Tak1701d

Yamadera (also known as Risshakuji) is a scenic temple located in the mountains to the northeast of Yamagata City. The temple grounds extend high up a steep mountainside, from where there are great views down onto the valley. The temple was founded in 860 (during the Heian Period) as a temple of the Tendai sect under the official name Risshakuji. Its popular name, Yamadera, literally means "mountain temple." At the time of the founding, the area in Yamagata was at the northernmost national border.

Yamadera is also known for a visit in the late 1600s by the famous poet Basho, who composed one of his most famous haiku there. A statue of Basho and a rock inscription of his famous poem can be found in the lower area of the temple grounds. South of Yamadera and the train station there stands a museum dedicated to Basho that focuses on his trip to northern Japan. The main hall, Konponchudo Hall, is the oldest hall in the temple and houses a flame that is said to have been brought from Enryakuji in Kyoto and to have continued burning since the foundation of Yamadera.

A 30-minute hike up a stone path of 1000 steps that leads up the mountainside goes to the upper area of the temple grounds. There is a massive Mida Hora rock, shaped like Amida Buddha, at the top of the stone path, and past Niomon Gate is an open area with spectacular views into the valley. Past several of the temple buildings there are more stairs that lead up to the Godaido Hall, an observation deck with the best views onto the valley below. The building dates back to the early 1700s and extends out over the cliff.

Regional Cuisine - 郷土料理

Akebi (fruit of the Chocolate Vine) - アケビ（木通）

Philipp Franz von Siebold and Joseph Gerhard Zuccarini - Flora Japonica

The translucent white flesh with tiny black seeds inside of the akebi purple pod is eaten as fruit. It is relatively unknown that the purple pod can be cooked and eaten as well, but like a vegetable, not a fruit. Traditionally, akebi was viewed as a wild fruit that country kids plucked and ate from vines in Tohoku while playing in the mountains. As people became interested in discovering new and interesting culinary sensations, a variety of akebi that could be cultivated was developed about 20 years ago, centered in Yamagata prefecture. In Tohoku traditional akebi recipes did exist; the fruit was mixed with salt to pickle cucumber and was said to increase the sweetness (although akebi itself is not sweet), while the pod was stuffed, sauteed and deep fried.

In Akita Prefecture an herbal oil medicine was produced from the akebi seeds, but this is not a common practice. Interestingly, recent scientific research has shown the akebi to have antiseptic properties and to be a diuretic. Traditionally in Yamagata Prefecture, people believed that the spirits of ancestors returned to this world for Obon on a ship made of the akebi pod and offered akebi on the family Buddhist altar.

Akebi is in season for just two weeks or so in early autumn, and can be found in upscale grocery stores and specialty fruit boutiques. This makes it a rare delicacy.

Yamagata Dialect・Yamagata-ben・山形弁

Yamagata-ben, or the Yamagata dialect, is actually comprised of 4 different dialects, which are mostly comprehensible to their neighbors.

じぇじぇこほしい (jejeko hoshii)

Standard Japanese: お金が欲しい (okane ga hoshii) English: I want money

めんこださげ、ける (men ko dasage, keru)

Standard Japanese: いい子だから、これあげる (ii ko dakara, kore ageru) English: You're a good kid, so I'll give you this (present)

めーるさあがももつけておぐってみっか！ (meeru sa agamomo tsukete ogutte mikka!)

Standard Japanese: メールにハートマークを付けて送ってみようか！ (meeru ni haatomaaku wo tsukete okutte miyouka!) English: I'm going to try adding a heart to this text and send it!

ほだなさすかえない (hadana sasu kaenai)

Standard Japanese: そんなの気にしなくていい (sonna no ki ni shinakute ii) English: You don't have to worry about that