#similar problem to the microwave

[iiguess]

From Kanji! ... He would never consider his smile "pretty."

" oh, kanji... "

To think someone actually filled out that silly bingo card she made... In truth, Sam hadn't expected much to come from it―-hardly anyone knew her after all, and it only served as a small distraction when things got too rough at home. So for Kanji to come up and give it to her himself?

It was... sweet. Really sweet.

" thank you for this, " she starts―-only for the telltale click of a pen to resound between them. " ―-but i think you've missed two squares. "

And with a few strokes of her pen, the correction was made: a scribbled star, right over 'responsible' and 'pretty smile'.

( She's glad he isn't mature. Becoming mature, she thinks, is something he'll be later on. He should enjoy being immature while he still can. )

She smiles, and the card's held out for him once more.

" that's four bingos in total. but... maybe you'd like to hold onto it? you know―-in case you get more in the future..? "

@ofhope

[coco-loco-nut]

Book Club - Part 10

pairing: do you even need to know anymore 😂

summary: Checo needs a night out, which means you are babysitting

a/n: thanks for the request 🫶, sorry it took so long, I truly have been slammed with work.

masterlist

———————

“Thanks again,” Checo says when he stands at your Monaco apartment door with his four kids.

“No problem, we weren’t planning on going out anyway. Partying gets tiring,” you smile, stepping aside so the four can run in and find Lance.

Despite his retirement, Checo decided to take a family vacation to the Monaco GP, and when he was invited out with the drivers, you stepped in to babysit. How hard could it be?

“They’ve had their dinner, you just need to entertain them before bedtime, we will pick them up after breakfast. Good luck,” Checo says and starts walking towards the elevator.

“Good luck? What do you mean ‘good luck’? Checo? Checo!” you call after the Mexican as he smirks, watching you panic as the elevator doors close. You close and lock the front door, sighing in defeat. Lance is sitting on the floor with the four kids surrounding him, looking more than content.

“So, uh, do you like jazz?” you awkwardly ask, sitting on the couch. Lance stifles a laugh, looking at you with amused eyes.

“Jazz? I thought you would be better with kids that aren’t your siblings,” Lance says, amused at how uncomfortable you seem. To be fair, you were really looking forward to cuddling up in bed and watching a 2000s romcom with your husband after the race, it was all you had talked about last week.

“Lancie,” you frown, he reaches out to you and squeezes your hand, silently telling you he will take the lead. You slide onto the ground with them, trying your best to keep up with their games.

Lance is a natural. You’d probably be envious if it wasn’t giving you baby fever.

“Do you guys want to watch a movie?” Lance asks the four kids who are currently playing with you.

“Si!” Checo Junior says. They pile onto the loveseat beside your couch as Lance pulls out some blankets and pillows.

“I’ll get some snacks,” you say softly, padding out to the kitchen where you fill a bowl with premade popcorn. You would microwave some but you ate it as a midnight snack the other day. By the time you get back, Lance has them all cozy on the loveseat, a movie cued, and is waiting for you on the couch with a fuzzy blanket. You swear your heart explodes.

You can’t say that you pay too much attention to the movie, seeing as how you are asleep on Lance’s chest halfway through the movie. He looks at the similar scene beside the two of you, the only difference being that all four kids are asleep. Lance gently slides out from under you and carries the kids one by one to the bedroom you had excitedly put together when Checo called.

“Come on, baby, time for bed,” Lance gently wakes you up as he turns off the tv.

“Shoot, did you put them to bed by yourself, I would’ve helped. You go to bed, I’ll clean up,” you panic, looking around the living room. Lance already cleaned up.

“It’s okay, I know the race took more out of you than it did me. Let’s just go to bed,” Lance presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Okay,” you murmur, standing up, feeling everything stretch out. Lance turns the last few lights off before picking you up and carrying you to bed. You look like a koala as you hold him, chest to chest, your head on his shoulder. After getting ready for bed, it doesn’t take you long to fall asleep.

Your alarm wakes you and Lance up early. Normally this would be for your morning run, but there are four kids who are currently relying on you.

“Come hop in the shower with me,” Lance grabs your hand as you stand in front of your closet.

“Lance, there are kids in the next room over,” you blush looking at the door.

“You won’t be saying that when we have kids of our own, plus, it’s just a quick shower. Get your mind out of the gutter,” he teases you and you shake your head.

“I’m going to train after Checo comes and picks them up, you go shower,” you tell him, finding the hoodie of his that you like to steal.

While Lance showers, you make a pot of coffee and sit out on your balcony, overlooking the ocean. As you sip your coffee, you don’t realize Lance is in the kitchen starting breakfast.

You freeze in the doorway, staring at your shirtless husband, whose sweatpants rest low on his hips.

“Hungry?” Lance asks, waving at the food already done.

“No, well yes, but I’m happy with my girl breakfast,” your eyes rake his body. Lance blushes and pulls a t-shirt on, you drool as his muscles flex. “Why’d you do that?” you pout as your girl breakfast was covered up.

“There will be plenty of time to stare once our charges are fed and taken back by their parents, why don’t you go wake them up?” Lance chuckles, amused at your irritation. He’s just glad he still does it for you all these years later. A few minutes later you rejoin him in the kitchen, four sets of little feet following you.

“Up you go,” you lift each kid into their seat at the table. As you set out place settings, Lance brings over the food. He notices how careful you are around them, and for a moment he let’s himself imagine that it is you with your future kids. Maybe he will have a copycat son that has your personality, or a daughter that takes the best from both of you and is a perfect blend, or maybe the kid will look exactly like you but will be a little awkward like he is.

Breakfast goes smoothly, and Checo arrives earlier than expected.

“They weren’t too much trouble, were they?” He asks Lance as you help the kids with their little bags.

“Not at all, perfect angels,” Lance tells Checo, his eyes not leaving you.

“I’ll see you, or I guess hear you, at the next meeting,” you hug the Mexican ex-driver goodbye.

“So, wanna start practicing?” Lance wiggles his eyebrows, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as he makes his way to the bedroom.

“Lance!”

[icycoldninja]

Fluffcember #14 (Vergil x reader)

Fluff headcannons

-Reads you to sleep every night, each night is a different book/story/poem. He'll first adjust your pillows, then kiss your forehead, and then sit on the side of the bed, reading to you while holding your hand until you fall asleep.

-Loves to just lie down with you and relax. It doesn't matter what you're doing, or if you're doing nothing at all--as long as you're together, Vergil is happy.

-A very quiet, introverted fellow, Vergil isn't really into socializing and doesn't really say much unless he has to. This leads to the two of you establishing a sort of telepathic communication; you both seem to know what the other needs without saying a word. This can be cute, when you're all chilling at home, or it can be creepy, when you're both in battle.

-Even Dante gets a little creeped out when he sees you and Vergil exchange knowing glances before rushing into the fray--or towards him.

-One of his most favorite things to do with you is cooking. He doesn't know how to cook personally, he just likes being the helper. Like a toddler He'll open jars for you, hand you items off the top shelf, stir things and/or grab really hot bowls from the microwave without flinching. The man's survived years of literal hell, he can take a hot bowl out with no problem.

-Also likes to eat the food you make with him, especially if you made pizza. Deep down, under that stern, stoic exterior, is a wacky woohoo pizza man just like his brother.

-Vergil doesn't like live action movies or TV shows, but LOVES anime and goes completely bonkers over it like a true Otaku. His favorite anime are: Black Clover, Mashle: Magic and Muscles, The Devil is a Part Timer, Date-A-Live (for some reason) and Rent-A-Girlfriend.

-He will listen to classical music in public to showcase how "refined" he is, but secretly likes listening to rock music. He'll never let anyone in on this secret, unfortunately, as he doesn't want people to see how similar he and Dante are.

-Speaking of Dante, occasionally the pizza boi comes over because he upset Lady and Trish--now they're hunting him down and his only sanctuary is your house. When this happens, the twins will get together and have a boys night in the guest room, where Vergil sits in the corner being edgy while Dante steals all your liquor and gets drunk, resulting in loud whooping as he re-purposes your mattress into a trampoline, prompting Vergil to whip out the Yamato and commence with his "Dante contingency plan". Spoiler alert: it's violence.

-Owns a pair of fluffy pink bunny slippers. Nuff said.

[kremlin]

I do computer work but it's not very hard and kind of boring. How do I get to do hard computer work? Do I have to go to grad school?

hi i tend to miss these because of slipshod ublock custom filters im too birdbrained to fix.

i worked for a large american technology company which sold business machines internationally for close to a decade until laid off in successful accounting fraud scheme a few years ago. started as developer, erm, pardon me, i started as

junior developer

which is a role similar to routinely-executed court jester and human meatwave conscript meant to soak up enemy bullets to cause exhaustion of enemy bullet supply and finally guy that comes in big gross truck with a pump and a tank and a big hose used to suck the shit+piss out of portable toilet/malfunctioning sewer etc. this is for when you are 20 years old or so and they hit you with this work to calm your ass down a bit. my case was cloud bullshit on ancient rickety php stack. 5% keystrokes/clicks are php, 95% remainder is jira and other members of the axis of evil. LOT of dick sucking and butt fucking. Going into men's bathroom and making eye contact with cubicle neighbor before entering stall and fearlessly making disgusting noises. microwaving fish lunch thrice daily. you get the idea. meager paycheck but six figures takehome technically

next is staff dev, wait, god damn fucking tumblr, you can't adjust fonts mid-paragraph, and Big Text is just another type of font, in case you wanted Big Specific font. fucking fuck hold on. next step is

staff developer

no effective change besides greatly increased workload (click those motherfucking jira buttons!! suffer coworker's asinine bad-faith code review comments that HE AND HE ALONE must manually accept your responses to, on HIS time, before you are allowed to click the jira buttons that start the human meat sausage factory to get your 20 line maximum change into an RC and then release and then push candidate and then prod push!! pay raise one thousand dollars annually (lol). Emails. Now you deal with project manager too. speculate as to what sorts of grievous head injuries that man must suffer daily to describe his logic. his job is like the guy from office space that brings documents from one desk to another but he randomly reorders the words on the page in-flight. make plausibly-deniable wife fucking jokes about his wife in earshot. you're almost at the top of the suffering function. next is, no fucking cute font this time, senior developer, sounds cool right, lol, lmao, "senior" "developer" is like "tallest" "midgit".

no pay increase no workload increase but now manager emails you about extremely, extremely personal issues he's facing and also makes his most difficult problems from his boss your problems. one week will pass and then they will hit you with the "we're considering you for a team lead position". answer:

NO

answer no as this is the prescribed path, you take that role, you are maxxed out in workload, you are dealing with forty employee's worth of bullshit, another one thousand dollarinos a year raise, employer has solved efficiency problem with your sanity and burnout as variables. you're supposed to quit or kill yourself within seconds of hitting 30 y/o. don't fall for tricks. say "NO" in a creative way such as "i have tabulated some data and made it into excel pie chart quantifying diff. departments work output and am considering sending it to whoever Dave is, the guy that is one or two or three report levels over your boss' head, you know, his boss' boss' boss or whatever. or say "you are harassing me sexually, racistly" that kind of shit. make threat clearly.

was worth mentioning before, throughout all of this make as many friends and as much of a splash for yourself as possible as its time to trade on that goodwill, tell your boss you want an open relationship and you're going to fuck and suck other managers, and then find the good one with the good team of old fucking geriatric guys who could never be fooled into working more than a reasonable amount daily and also can kill people with their minds since they have been sitting on the bleeding edge of computing since 1969. their boss will usually be, suspiciously, one report rank higher than everyone else. e.g. their boss has a whole other boss + his reports under him. usually small team. go to their boss, say, hi, look at me, look at my beautiful plumage and captivating mating dance, please hire me, pleassseee. his team will say no, they will say things like "I don't know about that kiddo", "That guy seems like a candy-ass", they will read your papers and look at you in the eyes and say it is not compelling, the boss will kind of hire you anyway. if he doesn't you're fucked. if he does you're now a

STAFF ENGINEER

for fifteen minutes and then

ADVISORY/SENIOR/SPECIAL ENGINEER

and the suffering is over. no code minimal jira + squad of gremlin zerglings under your boss whom you can rank-pull and delegate bullshit to, they will be mostly suckers, take advantage of this. 80% of keystrokes/clicks will be in production of beautiful wonderful lovely .docx and .xlsx's, what a godsend, only in an emergency are you allowed to fuck with your zergling's code, usually in a cool way with bullshit procedure removed.

i worked on high performance computing shit. "what the fuck do you mean 2PB or so in and out a day on flash memory", "what the fuck do you mean special infiniband intel MPI library on CD-R stored in Craig's filing cabinet???". Meetings with company people: webcams off, responses optional, snideness allowed. Meetings with client: you must have your dress shirt starched and white glove the shit out of those motherfuckers. timezones = skill issue. i don't care where germany is, i don't give a shit, wake up at 3am for a 20m meeting i take on the toilet or while eating a boiled lobster complete with cracker + lobster bib. customers countable on one hand, invoices to customers not countable with 32 bits. no fucking mistakes ever allowed except for like whitepaper drafts, you cannot fuck the pumpkin on this one, your actual job relies on your ability to hit a button and suck down a week's worth of compute and millions of dollars, boiling swimming pool's worth of TDP, one mistake that leads result data to being able to be characterized as flawed and your balls are getting ripped off. Quarterly IRL meetings = normiepilled normiemaxxing. Dress sharp. leave at 5pm on the dot, go to bar with Old Fucker coworkers, drink wrecklessly with them, have a blast, let them give you a tour of a lab you are absolutely 100% not allowed to be inside, buildings that have posted weight limits per sq. ft. exceeding 250lbs, such a blast. every paycheck a FORTUNE every dinner a banquet every meeting an email every keystroke life or death. you get to meet /lib/doug mofos too one of whom i wrote a very poor kind of poem thing about. thats about it. hope this helps

[panlight]

Do you think that Charlie also undergoes retconning/revision as the series goes on? In Twilight he seems somewhat distant but still buys Bella a truck, worries about her, etc. By Eclipse he can't work a microwave and is (at least through Bella's PoV) an unreasonable brute of a man. Do you think that Meyer needed to make Charlie more distasteful to the readers so that Bella essentially abandoning him (and Renee) wouldn't come off so cruel/harsh? Or did she just evolve the character as she went to mesh better with New Moon and Eclipse, even when those new character traits DON'T mesh well with FD/BD? Charlie was still in Bella's life in FD and presumingly Nessie was also still named Carlie as well.

Charlie is interesting because if you think about the idea that it was originally just Twilight and Forever/Breaking Dawn, Charlie seems to exist mostly so Bella can move to Forks and be largely unsupervised. I mean there's a story there about a girl reconnecting with the father she barely knows, but that's not the story SM is interested in and for the most part is not the story she is telling. I'd argue the movies made a bit more of an effort there, or at least Billy Burke made people care about Charlie. I don't remember people being all that invested in him when it was just the books, but movie!Charlie is largely beloved.

But yeah I think a lot about Bella's homelife is the way it is so that choosing to become a vampire doesn't seem so terrible. If she were close to her parents, if she had siblings, hell if she had any actual human friends she cared about, that decision would be a lot harder to make and there would be consequences, things she had to give up. But she doesn't really have anyone. She likes Angela well enough, but doesn't spare her a second thought after the wedding. Her grandparents are dead, no cousins or aunts or uncles. No friends back in Phoenix. Just Charlie, Renee, and Phil. And she gets to keep Charlie and doesn't seem to care about Phil at all.

I think some of the problem with Charlie is that SM was going for humor. Similar with Renee, I never really believed he didn't actually know how to cook. I assumed it was Bella exaggerating for effect. I didn't actually think Bella was paying the bills and doing the grocery shopping at 10, either. But then we get Charlie not even knowing how to boil pasta or not to but metal in the microwave. Like he hadn't lived on his own for nearly two decades, like he hadn't cared for his parents? It's just "haha look how clueless he is!"

I do think his disdain for Edward is largely justified, though, given what he actually knows. The "break-up" after the baseball game where Bella ran back to Phoenix and ended up in the hospital, and then her depression when he breaks up with her again, then her disappearing for three days because he needed help. Yeah, I'd think this guy wasn't good for my kid, too. But because it's a romance and Bella's the narrator, she paints him as unreasonable and Edward being a saint for putting up with it.

I don't think he was retconned as much as Renee; I think they both started off as well-meaning but comically helpless/clueless and that Renee took a darker turn whereas Charlie may have benefited in later works from how beloved movie!Charlie is.

[ieatedyourcrayons]

Askin for a Jeff the Killer x Male!Reader fic where the reader mirrors Jeff's personality quite a bit, im talkin cocky bastard with a joker laugh type shit, and at first he DESPISES the reader but quickly turns into a touble trouble duo :3 🔪❤🔪

Got you! hopefully you like it! kinda went on a yap session

no trigger warnings

Double trouble. Jeff the killer x male!reader

You were new to the slenderman mansion. Your cocky and straightforward demeanor fit right in with the others that lurked in the walls of the manor. Your blunt responses and manic behaviors pushed the infamous jeffery woods away from you.

Jeff couldn’t stand having someone like him around, he took offense to it, Does he think he’s better then me or something? is something Jeff thought everytime you opened your mouth.

Jeff didn’t bother giving you a chance at introducing yourself to him nor did he care for your introduction. He went out of his way to avoid you until one time you guys both wandered into the kitchen at 3:46 A.M.

You walk in the kitchen with the hopes of finding something to eat, you’ve been up playing your games all night, not caring to sleep, Jeff was doing the same, neither of you knowing.

As you’re rummaging through the fridge, a sudden voice startles you, causing you to jump, hitting your head on the fridge. “Oh it’s you.” Jeff mutters rudely as he grabs a bowl out the cabinet.

“what’s your problem?” you ask as you hold the spot on your head that you hit, your voice rough from the lack of talking and water

“My problem?” he scoffs, “what’s your problem?” He adds with a rude tone

“what are you even talking about?” you ask with genuine confusion as your stare at him dumbfounded.

“Oh cmon. don’t act like that, you think you’re better then me, you may have a pretty face but you’ll never be better then me dude” Jeff says rudely, his jealousy leaking through every word.

“What are you talking about? I don’t think i’m better than you. Two people can have similar personalities ya’know? You haven’t even given me a chance and I could care less about being you” You spit back , saying the “being you” with a mocking tone as you push your hair out of your face.

Jeff stands with an offended look on his face , finding himself unable to say anything realizing you’re right.. he’s overreacting and he really hasn’t given you a chance. Jeff’s expression quickly falls off his face and is replaced with embarrassment.

“…You’re right. i’m sorry bro i don’t know why i’m like this… How are you?” Jeff says with a sigh, hoping that you won’t hold this against him.

You sigh, not wanting to keep this tension between yall any longer. “You’re good, and i’m fine, i’ve just been on the game all night.. how about you?” You ask before turning back into the fridge and grabbing some left overs and bringing it to the microwave.

Relief washes over Jeff after you respond. “Really? same, i’ve been trying to beat elden ring for like 15 hours!” He laughs as he grabs some cereal and pours it in his bowl.

“Dude really? I can help you. i’m like.. a pro at elden ring” you laugh back before the microwave beeps, signaling your food is done. You quickly open the door to the microwave, stoping the beeping , and taking out your food.

“Yo will you actually help? I need it bad” He says, A hint of amusement behind his words. “Yeah dude, gotta help a brother out” you respond with a laugh before bringing a spoon full of your food to your mouth.

“Yes! thank you! oh uhm, what’s your name?” Jeff says hesitantly as he picks his bowl up and grabs a spoon, ready to go to his room.

“it’s y/n, and i know your name, jeffery” you tease as you two begin walking to his room, ready to put Jeff’s elden ring skills to shame.

Jeff jokingly cringes at your use of his full name. You guys enter jeff’s room, his walls littered with posters of movies and metal bands, clothes and other things scattered on his grey floor, the walls a dark red with led lights wrapping the ceiling boards.

You look around the room in admiration, “yo this is a vibe” you stare before shoving a spoon full of you food into you mouth “Fanks” jeff says with a mouthful of cereal in his mouth.

Eventually you two settle on the floor infront of jeff’s small monitor with an xbox controller on the floor infront of it. “Uh.. do you not have a desk?” you ask confused “eh i broke it” Jeff shrugs. You turn and look at him with a confused but amused expression before saying “understandable” with a shrug as you turn your attention to the screen.

———————————————————————————

You and jeff bond over Elden ring and shared trauma , Jeff realizing he would’ve missed out big time if he never gave you a chance. Now you two are inseparable and cause havoc in the manor, terrorizing everyone and going on missions together.

[yourhellishdaddies]

prompt: how Stolas, Adam, and Lucifer might take care of their baby who’s sick? (I’m alright with sexual / incest etc elements since this is more of a kink for me ^^) thank you!

[oh this is good timing cuz I'm p sure I caught a cold lmao 💜]

{Caring for you when you're ill}

Featuring Stolas, Adam, and Lucifer.

As soon as he realizes you're not feeling like yourself, he is wrapping you up in a blanket and placing you in a nest of pillows.

Fretting and getting his feathers all ruffled, whether it's just a small cold or something more serious, he's freaking the hell out.

"Here, let me take your temperature. No no, don't get up! Save your strength, sweetie. Daddy will take care of everything. Just try to relax."

Doting to the point of being overbearing. Refuses to leave your side for a single moment. Carries you with him to the kitchen if you're hungry, to the bathroom if you need it, etc.

Always petting your head or rubbing your back. If you need to vomit, he's right there with a cool washcloth, holding your hair back for you and whispering words of comfort to you.

"There, there, darling. Just let it out. Daddy is right here, okay? It's alright..."

Decides to put you in a diaper so you don't have to get up as much, if you're not already wearing one. He has no problem changing you or dealing with a mess. Will bathe you each and every time you have a blowout.

Makes you homemade soup and spoon feeds you in his arms. It's alright if you can't finish it, just as long as you try to get something in your belly.

Gets you the absolute best medicine available. Doesn't force you to take it if you don't want to, though. He just wants you to feel better as soon as possible! May try to coax you into taking it by mixing it into some food if he feels like you really need it.

Sings you lullabies to help you fall asleep. Absolutely adores how small and fragile you look, knowing how much trust you put in him to watch over you.

Seems slightly annoyed that he actually has to put in effort to care for you now. Not that he doesn't care, he actually hates seeing you not feeling well. But he also doesn't really have any experience caring for someone who's sick. He doesn't want to make it any worse.

"Aw, geeze kid, really? Alright, alright, c'mere. Daddy's got'cha. Shhh, it's okay."

Picks you up and carries you to the living room, setting you up on the couch with the TV. He'll put on your favorite show and watch with you.

Awkwardly tries to comfort you. Wipes your nose and pats your back, wraps his wings around you to quell your shivering.

If you're really sick, he'll actually get his ass into gear and put forth a decent effort.

Cleaning you up, making sure you drink enough water, cursing under his breath whenever you moan or groan uncomfortably.

Unintentionally discovers a new kink when you puke all over him.

"Oh, shit- H-hang on, baby. S'no big deal, lemme just- ah fuck, I'm hard."

Despite how awful you feel, you can't help but blush when you notice how flustered he is.

Leaves you for just a moment to change clothes and beat off really quick. He'll fuck you later when you're not feeling like shit.

When he returns, he holds you extra close, leaning his head on yours.

Gives you medicine even if he has to hold you down. You need to get better.

Plays you soft songs on his guitar to lull you to sleep.

The most experienced, and therefore the most comforting. Knows exactly how to soothe all your aches and pains.

Has absolutely everything under control. Calm and collected, giving you a reassuring smile.

"There's no need to worry, my duckling. Daddy can cure whatever ails you!"

Has one of those weighted and scented plush ducks that you microwave for warmth and aromatherapy. Lets you cuddle with it and keeps it constantly heated with his magic.

Sings you little nursery rhymes and gently rubs your upset tummy while you lie on your back.

Similar to Stolas in how doting he is, but not quite as overbearing, allowing you to rest on your own if you wish.

Always giving you little kisses and baby talking to you, making you smile and even laugh!

Puts on puppet shows for you when you're bored from lying in bed all day.

If you can't sleep, he'll sit up with you and hold you in his arms, gently rocking you while soft music plays.

[metallica-jk]

Its 23:39, I'm bored, so imma rank all TIG characters from my fav to least

1- Nash Hawthorne- he's so underrated and loving and UGGHHHHH that he needs 1st place

2- LIBBY OMG- I LOVE HER SM SHE IS MY IDOL I RLLY TRY TO B LIKE HER BUT I FAIL BUT I WILL KEEP TRYING GUYS

3-Probably Gigi Grayson- I love her energy sm and i love her in general like gurl b my bestieeee

4- Jameson Hawthorne- Ik a lot of people will get mad at me for putting him in 3rd place but the truth is, i love him a lot as well, but he does not beat Gigi or Libby or Nash in my opinion

5- Rohan (mysterious second name)- I would put him on the same place as Jamie but Es lo que es (it is what it is in spanish??)

6- Max Liu- I love her js as much as Gigi but i feel like Max is a liiiittle more mature than Gigi :).

7- Xander Hawthorne- He needs to b next to his gf so...but in general i love the idea of him doing silly things w Max like exploding and wrecking a microwave. Beautiful date idea guys

8- *John* Oren- love that first name btw. I feel like Oren is very much the friendly and happy guy under his shell of protectiveness so

9- Savannah Grayson- I'm sorry i put her so low but idk where to put her. I love her protective-but-vulnerable kinda personality. what i mean by that is like she is protective of Gigi but she is vulnerable and kinda hides away at her boyfriend Dunc@n (yes censored bc we HATE THE PRICK)

10- Averyyyyyyy Grambs- Yall kill me for putting her so low but i forgot ab herrrrr. I would put her in Orens place honestly. bc my girl has sm trauma that if i were her i would stay under my bedsheets and js bark out orders.

11- Grayson Hawthorne- idk i like Grayson but if yk what i mean i rather Dean Redding??? cuz like they have similar personalities and idk i just rather Dean than Gray. I STILL LOVE THEM BOTH OK??? like, this guy deserves someone who will listen to his weeping every night and weep with him. OMFG I FORGOT AB LYRA

12- LYRA IM SO SRRY- PUT HER AT NR 6 AND PUT EVERYONE DOWN A NR PLS BC I LOVE LYRA SM HER PERSONALITY IS SO BADASS AND I CAN IMAGINE HER IN A LEATHER JACKET, JEANS, AND LIKE BROWNISH REDISH DOC MARTENS OMLLLL

13(14)- Alisa Ortega- Gurl still loves my man. i lover her but Nash is MINE and LIBBIES so she better watch out. dont get me wrong, i love her and she looks out for avery sm but she broke my mans heart and i wont forgive her for that.

did i miss out anyone?

no?

oh wait

999999999999-Em!ly- the only reason she is b4 eve is bc she had heart problems and jumped off a cliff (caused her own death and lots of hurt to the rest) SO FUCK U EMILY UGHHHHH

10000000000000- Eve- Idk she js better not hurt anyone or ill hurt her.

10000000000001- Tobias Hawthorne- u raised ur grandsons well, but in the most horrendous way possible

THE END DONT KILL ME BYE

[writefightandflightclub]

A little burnt(out): Moon Boys (Steven Grant + Marc Spector) x fem!reader

Summary: you are feeling a little bit “useless”, and your Moon Boys are there to prove to you that’s categorically not true.

Genre: hurt/comfort with emphasis on the comfort - predominantly fluffy.

Rating: teen (but my blog is 18+ / minors DNI)

Author’s note: this is self-indulgent and I’m not even sure it counts as a fic per se, but I’m sharing as there’s a chance someone may enjoy it! This fic is a riff off of (recent/current) personal experiences with what I believe is autistic* burnout, but it’s kept quite general so might be suitable for anyone who is experiencing a whole range of things with similar symptoms (to oversimplify - fatigue, overwhelm etc. etc.). For obvious reasons, I chose the Moon Boys for this one! Written super quickly on my lunch break so don’t expect too much lol!

*that’s a whole other very long story as someone who is trying to get a late diagnosis in my thirties but anyway…

Warnings: maybe read the a/n to get a sense of the themes this tackles and see if it’s for you? Thx!

Gif: by @jenwallters

You had even failed to make coffee.

How?!

The thing you do on autopilot several times a day.

Well… Somehow, you had.

There is oat milk languishing in the microwave.

A boiled kettle which is now cooling, and three empty mugs sat on top of the kitchen counter.

“Er. Are you alright, love?” Steven probes gently, evidently seeing your failed attempt at making coffee for him and you and Marc (he likes it differently to Steven) as he emerges from the bathroom.

You simply pull the duvet more securely over your sarcastic, throbbing head. “Yeah. Clearly.” You ball your fists up and dig them into your eye sockets, scrubbing away the embarrassment of bubbling tears suddenly crowding your eyeballs.

Still, as much as you hate yourself for being unable to function the way you generally can, you have to admit it feels sort of nice to hide under here, in the dark and the quiet. To leave the demands -however small- behind. To be honest with yourself, and listen to your body. For once.

You ignore your body far too often. Shush what it’s trying to tell you - until it’s too late. Until your body has to scream or snap to make itself heard. Too much. Too loud. Too tired. Too long.

You can do plenty. And because you can do it, you often ignore the toll it’s taking on you, particularly when the outputs exceed your inputs. When your life isn’t set-up in the best way to make sure you can function sustainably. For the long-haul. Instead of this boom and bust cycle you seem to have found yourself trapped in, each “bust” growing harder and harder to drag yourself out of.

You refuse to listen to your body, but it always catches you up eventually - and this time, it feels harder than ever to spring back from.

Progress is slow. Whatever “progress” means anyway - an endless pursuit for more, better, faster, and perhaps you’re tiring of that. Perhaps you want things to be slow and light and easy. Soft.

Truly, lying here is just about all your body has the energy for today, even if -in contrast- your mind is racing, as per usual. Urging you to do everything.

You hear Steven sigh, and eventually, you hear the wobble of the heating kettle and tinkle of the tea spoon as he kindly finishes your task for you.

Next, you feel his weight gently dip the mattress next to you, those hefty cheeks making quite the impression. “Coffee, love,” Steven offers, in an attempt to coax you out from your duvet den. “Come and get it while it’s hot, yeah?”

You sigh, but not at him. Only because you’re fed up with yourself. At how long it’s taking to recover. So long, that you wonder if you’ll ever be able to operate like you used to. At the same time, operating like you used to fills you with a sort of dread, as you know that was precisely the problem. That it was precisely what pushed you too far in the first place.

“Come and get these lips while they’re hot, Marc says,” Steven relays on his behalf. “Got a big fat kiss waiting for you, yeah?”

Alright. Well you can’t resist that, now can you?

You abruptly shove the covers down with your forearms, squinting against the assault of the gentle light. Even these subdued sensations prove too much with your currently reduced threshold of tolerance, apparently. Regardless, you allow your grumpy face to pop into view.

Despite your grumpiness, though, Steven looks endlessly happy to see you, a soft, angelic smile lilting over his mouth. He dips to kiss your grumpy mouth, the tender, lingering press of his lips dissolving the frown from off your face like sugar stirred into sweet tea. “Morning, my goddess.”

“Pfft,” you protest, as if you could possibly be anyone’s “goddess”. Goddesses don’t cry so much in the shower, do they? Don’t have a meltdowns over report deadlines? Right? “Can’t even make a cup of coffee right anymore.”

Even so, you can’t help but notice that Steven is gazing at you like you hung the stars.

Steven’s eyebrows rise up, his expression still soft and open. Free of judgement. “That’s alright. Got your ol’ boyfriend to do it for you, ain’t you?”

Despite his sunshine -or perhaps because of his disarming brightness - your eyes close tiredly. You feel drained already, even though you’ve just woken up. Even though you’d tried to get an early night last night. Even though you’d already pruned your schedule to within an inch of its life to try and aid your recovery. “I’m just tired, Steven. Really tired.”

You feel a mess of scribbles suddenly animate in the pit of your stomach.

Full of calm, Steven sets the steaming mug down on the coaster to your side, and he reaches to tuck the duvet more closely around your chest, making you all comfy-cosy.

Still, the light frown which settles on his brow shows that he knows. That he understands. Knows you don’t mean that you need sleep. That your tiredness goes deeper than that. He’s been in that place before, after all. Has plenty to say about that.

Steven doesn’t respond in words, though. Instead, he settles his warm hand on top of yours and he nods slowly, demonstrating he’s hearing you. Validating you. That he accepts that when you say you are tired, that’s the truth. It sounds simple enough, but you’ve had an unfortunate pattern of people dismissing you throughout your life. Dismissing your challenges and struggles whenever you have spoken up, which has made it harder to trust now that your assertions will be taken at face value.

The truth is though, that by the time you actually express that you can’t continue, you’ve likely already pushed yourself far beyond your ideal limit. That it has been some time since you found yourself unable to continue, but that you “stubborned” your way through it anyway.

Steven and Marc and Jake understand. They have shown, through their words and actions, that they believe what you tell them - and after a lifetime of being sidelined, that’s no small thing.

You watch his expression shift as his eyebrows knot and travel up, his eyes shining with concern. His whole being a picture of receptiveness. Eager to listen. Promising to hear you.

You are grateful.

That openness provides you the space to say it. “I want to be better, Steven. It’s just… taking so long. I don’t even know when the last time I had energy was. Like, proper energy. I’m talking enough energy. Even tiny things seem so overwhelming. And… I can’t… I don’t think I can do it anymore. I can’t keep up.”

It’s true. Even the most basic of routines feels too much for you right now. And meanwhile, all your usual tasks and responsibilities have been piling up. So many deadlines looming. An ever expanding “to do” list. But, try as you might, you simply can’t manage to pull it back. It seems the harder you try the further you dig yourself down into this pit. The more depleted you feel. The less you are able to do the more you try to scrabble your way out of it.

You’ve tried, but you’ve been so overloaded and overwhelmed for so long that all your resources are just… gone. Right now, it knocks you into the red just to perform basic tasks, and you feel like you’ll never be in credit with your energy again.

You’re trying to go easy on yourself and allow yourself the space to recover - Steven and Marc and Jake have been supportive every step of the way too - but this coffee? That was the final straw. One of many final straws, it seems, as you keep finding yourself surprised by how many straws there are left to draw. An abundance of straws appearing from nowhere when you least expect them. How it keeps getting a bit worse without getting better.

Meanwhile, everything else is there waiting for you. Expecting you to carry on as “normal”. Your job, friends, family. You’ve told them. You’ve said, I can’t keep doing this. But they see you keep going anyway, and assume you’re fine.

Well, sometimes that is normal for you. To go go go a mile a minute. But, you are trying to accept that this is also a part of your normal too. Sometimes you can go full pelt, and sometimes… you can’t. It’s like… every activity has a cost, but unfortunately the price tags remain hidden from you. That is, until your bill hits the mat with a thud, and then suddenly you’re expected to pay up all at once. What’s more, you can never quite predict when that day is going to come.

Your boyfriends are different though, and for that, you are grateful. They know your experience is real and valid, and they acknowledge what you need. Even if you can’t always do that yourself - after so many years of masking and pushing aside your own needs until you couldn’t even recognise them.

“It’s okay,” Steven soothes, and you take a moment to admire the specific shapes the coils of his hair are making today - everyday a new delight. You’re trying to mindful of all the little things which replenish you. There is something to cling on to. “S’alright if you can’t do it for now, love. I mean… It’s okay if you can never do it again, to be fair.”

Your eyes brim with sorry tears. “I feel useless.”

Steven looks positively affronted on your behalf. He doesn’t like it when you’re unkind to yourself. You know it breaks his heart, but you can’t help it. He clamps both his hands around yours now, squeezing tight. “Aww. Come on. Look. You’re definitely not.” He brushes your face tenderly with the crook of his finger, and you know you must still look sceptical. Steven tries again, a truly valiant effort. “Anyway, you don’t even need to have a use, sweetheart. You’re a human being, not a bloody JML gadget.” Steven laughs lightly at his own attempt at kitchen-appliance-themed humour, and you manage a watery smile, at least.

“Steven…”

You shake your head, about to protest further, but he is having none of it. “How about you drink your coffee, darling, and we make it nice and dark and quiet in here, yeah?”

That does sound nice. Sounds like what you need so desperately. Still, it’s hard to allow yourself to rest. To say no to things. “We’re not going to do anything today? We need to do a food shop and I told Max I would help her with the-“

“Ssshhh,” Steven soothes. “Forget all that, yeah?”

He stands and efficiently flips the blinds. Dims the lights, before returning to you.

You take a deep breath, basking in the relief of having fewer things on your plate. Steven, for his part, scoops up the warm squashy covers and wriggles in beside you, fitting his body around yours - securely, like a big spoon.

You feel his next words warmly against the back of your neck. “You’re a human being not a human doing. Remember, love?”

You can’t help but scoff fondly at that. “Christ. You’re so cheesy, Steven.” Still, you wiggle yourself closer to him, and settle your arms on top of his where they loop around your middle.

“Maybe. But I make a mean coffee though.”

You snicker at that. “No. No, your coffee is sweet, Steven. I doubt you could make a mean thing even if you tried.”

He exhales a gentle laugh into your skin, and you feel and hear the soft wet smack as he plants a gentle kiss right behind your ear.

“What about those biscuits I made last week? They were pretty bloody offensive, weren’t they?”

You laugh. “A little burnt,” you admit, smoothing your hand over his.

You breathe in deeply, remembering. You hold your breath for a moment before you let it go, and when you do you feel a modicum of the tension eke away from your body. Steven simply nuzzles happily against you, seeming perfectly content with just this.

Today, this is all that matters.

You simply get to be.

No rushing. No expectations.

Only rest.

And that is more than enough.

You feel a little better already. More able to cope with the day, even as your eyes wander to the scene of your prior failure, Marc’s mug still steaming on the counter.

Wait.

Actually…

“Oh. Shit. Tell Marc not to drink his coffee would you, honey?”

“Too late,” Marc’s voice sounds against your neck, startling you just a tad. “I already tried it.”

Yikes.

You swivel on to your back to greet him and he remains on his side, propping his head with his elbow to get a better look at you. You slide your palm up his face by way of greeting - and apology. “Shit, sorry.”

His mouth slants into a lopsided smile. “Flour instead of sugar? Now that’s a mean coffee, babe.”

You snicker, facepalming at your slip-up, and Marc strokes his hand over your hair, studying you with a gentle vigour. Tracing nonsense shapes along your arm with his fingertips.

“Listen,” he says after a while and you tense up, his voice weighed down and a tension settled on his brow. “You’re not useless. I just needed you to hear that from me too, okay?”

You knew he’d been listening. Knew that he’d have something to say on the matter. No way he was going to let that one slide.

You can hear from the weight in his words that Marc never wants you to so much as think anything like that about yourself ever again.

“No?” you ask weakly. “Even taking into account the, um, flour in the coffee situation?” You suck air through your teeth.

Marc bends to press a lingering, soft, slow morning kiss to your mouth, and even after he has pulled back your lips still tingle. “Even then, honey.”

Marc looks down at you then with such sincerity that you could swear that -between him and Steven showering you in love- your heart grows three sizes.

Maybe it’s true - all that the boys have been telling you.

Maybe it’s not your fault that certain things seem to take a harsher toll on you, on occasion.

Maybe it is as real and valid as you’ve always suspected.

For years, you’d wondered if you had been making it up. Wondered if you should simply be able to… manage. But, pushing your discomfort away and extending yourself beyond your personal limits again and again -attempting to just manage- was exactly what had pushed you into this pit, over and over and over.

Besides, each time you found yourself here, it was proving harder and harder to crawl out of it.

Something has to give, you think. And you can’t change the world and you can’t change your wiring. Maybe all you can change -apart from the practical structures and features of your days, deciphering what support you may need - is believing you are enough, just as you are?

After all, Marc and Steven and Jake seem to have no trouble at all believing that.

Your chest tightens with the feeling of being so loved. So understood. So accepted. Your voice splits apart with a raw emotion. You could say a million things, but you only have the energy for three little words. “I love you.”

Marc’s full lips curl up at corners, his deep brown eyes glistening with emotion. “We love you too, Princess.”

Eagerly, he sinks his mouth to yours for another slow kiss.

You focus on just being.

Being here with him.

With them.

This is not just enough.

This?

This is everything.

It will all be okay.

[eruden-writes]

Strictly Pleasure - Part 10 (Jek x Heidi)

Summary: An awkward fresh-out-of-a-relationship woman and an orc that owns a sex store enter an adult theater together. She, intent on pushing her own boundaries. He, just looking to give her some sense of safety. Well, that and he wouldn't complain about having a bit of fun himself.

After they inevitably get interrupted, Jek deals with the problem while Heidi flees. Resigned, he believes he'll never see her again.

Thus begins Jek and Heidi's sporadic interactions until, eventually, they find themselves fumbling around each other daily at the very place it started: Strictly Pleasure.

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💋 Part 1 💋Part 2 💋Part 3💋Part 4 💋Part 5 💋 Part 6💋Part 7💋Part 8 💋 Part 9 💋 Part 10 💋 Part 11 (coming soon) 💋

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

If you like my content, please consider supporting me on Patreon or  Ko-Fi !

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

By the time they arrived at Strictly Pleasure, Heidi became increasingly aware of the situation. She wasn't just going to spend time alone with Jek. There were going to be others present. And his bandmates. They all would have seen what happened with Travis or would be up-to-date on it by the time they arrived at the sex shop. The thought made her stomach lurch.

Just an old biddy with bad taste in men - and alleged gold-digging tendencies - hanging out with rock stars who were once mega famous. Right. Totally didn't make Heidi look bad at all. 

She gnawed on her nerves once they entered the store, finding Jek talking to Gnadi while the rest of their rather large party milled about.

After confirming the theater was empty - thankfully, a slow night at the store according to Gnadi - Jek adjusted the theater settings for streaming capabilities. Since the rest of the band already had streaming capabilities, all that was left was to wait for the stragglers to come in. Which included Heidi. 

“Alright, the theater has been ‘reserved’ for the rest of the wee hours. We can stream some of our old shit or watch whatever vids you sweet fun things want.” Dorzi grinned and winked at his particular contingent of guests.

As the others filed into the theater, chattering amongst themselves, Heidi lingered in the shop with Jek. When most of the others were gone, she turned to Jek as she smiled through a wince. “Actually, is there somewhere I can lay down? I feel a little lightheaded.”

She couldn’t possibly mean to get them alone, Jek thought wildly. But he couldn’t stop the thought from latching to his brain, rousing his hope and eagerness. “Oh, sure. I got a futon in the breakroom. I'll come with you.”

“You don't have to.” Heidi’s eyes widened, raising her hands as if to stop him herself.

“It’s fine, c’mon.” Motioning for her to follow him, Jek led Heidi behind the front counter, passed a grinning Gnadi, and through a door into the back. Along the way, they passed boxes of additional lewd merchandise, posters, a shelf of DVDs, and racks of clothes before passing through another doorway. As she tagged after Jek, her heart skittered in her chest. All of the reminders of carnal pleasure, of risque fun, of sex tainted her thoughts.

Heidi wasn't sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't quite what she found. It was a small breakroom, similar to what one would find at any other business, smelling of lavender thanks to an outlet air freshener. A kitchenette area provided a counter with a microwave and a sink. A fridge took position by the sink, reminders and other memorabilia tacked onto the front with magnets. Opposite the kitchenette was a sitting area, the area denoted with a rug. The infamous futon sat in the middle of the room, clearly part of the sitting area and facing the television that hung on the wall. Other chairs and a coffee table took up the remaining empty space on the rug.

There were no scintillating posters, no pin-up calendars tacked to the wall, no sexual toys, no bowls of condoms and assorted lubes. Just a breakroom, removed from anything sexual. It was a bit of a relief to know an area not dedicated to sex existed in Strictly Pleasure.

Jek watched as Heidi looked around, not sure how she was gauging the area. He half-wondered if she was unimpressed. They had talked about the futon and made illicit little jokes, but - overall - it was just a breakroom. A breakroom where sex might have happened in the past, but one could say that about just about any breakroom. At least from Jek's perspective.

“Thanks, you really don't have to stick around with me. After everything with Travis, I just…” Under Jek’s quiet look, Heidi trailed off, struggling to find the right words. When the silence dragged on a little too long, she sighed and dropped herself onto the futon. In an effort to not meet his attention, she leaned over to slide her purse behind her foot and under the futon. “He said some things that made me self-conscious and I just didn’t want to be around a lot of people.”

As Heidi spoke, Jek shrugged off his pin-covered jacket and folded it, placing it on one of the kitchenette chairs before edging closer to the futon. Easing himself down beside her, Jek waited until Heidi sat up straight again before replying, “I don't take what fuckfaces say seriously, y’know.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re a rich and famous former rockstar and now you own your own business.” She frowned, waving her hands to indicate the store as she choked down bitter feelings and a faint burn at her eyes. While with Travis, she had relied on him. Not out of malice, but because she thought that was what lovers did. They supported each other.

She was a mom and for much of their relationship, she was trying to give Malachai the emotional support and presence he needed. Not wanting to dwell on those past tribulations, Heidi redirected the conversation toward something joking as she leaned back. “Although by owning a sex shop, you’re not exactly burdened by typical professionalism.” 

Jek snorted and turned to her, his left arm lying along the back of the futon and, consequently, her shoulders. His thumb unintentionally skirted against her, a sensation burning along his arm, through his body. Leaning a little closer to Heidi, he peered over his glasses at her. “Big words for someone sitting on my Fuck Futon.”

It was only then that Heidi realized the two of them hadn’t chosen far ends of the futon to sit on. They both sat, more or less, in the middle. His heat bled into her side, coaxing goosebumps to her skin. There was a heat between them that wasn’t simply ambient. It made each breath burn down her throat and filled her lungs with anticipation.

“As I was saying. Not burdened by typical professionalism.” Hiding the effect he had on her, Heidi smiled and shook her head, almost laughing. But her expression flickered, her eyes averting from Jek for a beat. Once again, she realized he was stuck here with her while his friends were enjoying further adult entertainment and other companions. Brief flashes of the first night in the theater antagonized her thoughts. How she had stopped before it got to anything too good. Heidi wasn’t sure the same wouldn’t happen again, given how hard her heart was already beating. She might disappoint him, if he was hoping to have a long-awaited finish.

Jek noticed how her expression changed and waited for her to say what was on her mind. As he waited, his eyes drank in Heidi’s form once again. Once more, he silently thanked whatever force convinced her to leave the hoodie at home. The swell of her breasts, her stomach, her hips all sang a siren song of temptation to him. It made his fingertips itch to touch her, to sink into her. How warm and soft she’d feel under his hand, under him. 

Clamping down on that thought, Jek tore his gaze from Heidi. Fuck, he had to pump the breaks and get himself under control. 

Misreading the tense aura cloaking him, Heidi picked at her fishnets and muttered, “If you want to go and have fun in your theater, don’t let me stop you. I’m sure I’m not more fun than whatever is happening in there.”

Heidi silenced herself as Jek waved his hand to brush off her concerns. When their eyes met again, she wanted to melt into the futon as a soft smile played across his lips. “It’s alright. I’d rather be here.” 

Relief fluttered through her, easing an unacknowledged strain from her own muscles. She couldn't exactly believe Jek was entirely alright with babysitting her, so she prodded a little further. “Most people would be eager to relive their glory days and get lucky, in the process.”

“If I went in there, my bandmates would kill me.” Jek laughed as he leaned against the back cushions, hands behind his head and his ankle crossed at his knee. He shot her a roguish grin, smile lines wrinkling at the corners of his eyes. “I’m a fan favorite.” 

As it struck her earlier in the night, Heidi got the impression he made the same pose a million times over. There was a calculated sort of carelessness around him, trying to be the unflappable cool guy. It was weirdly adorable in a way. She still couldn’t relent to the carefully crafted image. “Ah, well, pity for you, I’m not a fan.” 

Jek raised his eyebrows as he lowered his arms, his lips parting with a devilish smile as he leaned closer to her. “Wanna go into the theater and change that?” 

“Hah, nice try, but I’m still buzzed. Can’t really consent.” Without thinking, she pushed against his chest. The brief contact shot through her arm, making tingles coast down her back.

“Same, but my theater has multiple enchantments on it, including a sobering charm.” Jek let her push him back, her touch making his own heart stutter and his breath catch. Like most humans, she was small compared to him and clashing thoughts - of testing how much she could take, of coddling her - weaseled through his thoughts. 

Despite the tilt of his thoughts, his smile shifted from sharp and sexy to something more serious. “Can’t have people doing things while under the influence of anything. Goes hand in hand with the ‘no recording’ rule.”

Her eyebrows arched high, a quiet challenge glittering in her eyes. Okay, so he covered recording and inebriation, but did he take care of the most obvious and potentially long-lasting issue. “Got an active contraceptive spell too?” 

Tilting his head toward her, Jek only flashed a rakish grin in an affirmative response. Who did she think he was?

Unable to stifle her seemingly constantly delighted smile, Heidi snorted and rolled her eyes. “You really thought of everything.”

"My gram did, I just refined it and kept it up-to-date.” His shoulder lifted in a half-shrug, giving credit where credit was due. Granted, there were always new spells and enchantments or better magic users to pick from every year. He made sure to read reviews, do his homework, and keep the protocols as up-to-date as possible, though.

For a second, Heidi thought he was joking again, but the easy way he said it made her second guess herself. "Your grandmother?" 

“Yeah, she owned this store before me.” Giving another shrug, vague amusement tilted the corners of his lips upward. There was that curious gleam in Heidi’s eyes that made his stomach turn to butterflies. “I took it over when she retired, since I was looking for something out of the limelight.” 

“Why’d you even step down?” After seeing the way Jek acted that night, Heidi realized she was surprised he hadn’t continued performing well past his prime. Little hints of his capability had always slunk into view.

“Eh, well, you know the rockstar lifestyle, right?” Rubbing at the back of his neck, Jek turned his gaze away from her, looking off into a far middle distance. It had felt so long ago. Hell, it had been so long ago. Crazy nights, trashing hotel rooms and partying well into the next day. Showing up drunk to rehearsals and shows. Getting fucked up on whatever party pills or recreational drugs someone brought. It was a wonder he hadn’t died. Not to mention the people he got involved with, the scars they left.

His eyes slid back to Heidi, gauging her reaction as she thought as he wondered how much he should really tell her.

Feeling his eyes on her, Heidi could only imagine what he’d been through. No privacy, the paparazzi everywhere, and the tribulations of fame in the music industry. A lot of celebrities struggled with addictions, stalking, assault, and more. With her voice dipping with care, Heidi said, “Drugs, booze, and sex?”

“Yeah, that and more. Party hard.” The words were said with a heavy dose of dryness as he raised his fist, index and pinkie fingers extended. After shaking his hand a little bit, he dropped the gesture, his arm once more extending along the back of the futon and against the back of Heidi’s shoulders. “I cleaned up my act, kinda, when my kid was born. When our music careers were winding down, I needed something stable and something to do. Nothing too wild, but nothing too straitlaced.” 

“What about your kid’s mom?” As soon as the words were out, Heidi wanted to bite her own tongue off. Gods, that had to make her look too eager. 

Amusement glowed a little brighter in Jek’s eyes as he cocked an eyebrow. “Ah, interested in that, are you?” 

“Well, I am sitting on a Fuck Futon with you.” Shooting him a wry look, Heidi patted the futon’s cushion.

“Fair enough.” Nodding, Jek took a breath to consider how to word himself. Over the years, he had reiterated similar retellings during interviews, it shouldn’t have made his heart beat as hard as it did now. 

“Me and Ruby - Ruby Red, the singer - were on and off for years. Never really good for each other.” Jek shifted under Heidi’s attention, his lower stomach clenching. None of this was a lie. As much as he tried to make things work with Ruby, she was never committed. Lying, cheating, trying to coax him back into the party scene of drugs and alcohol. Over the years, he’d learned how to talk about it without sounding angry, without the ache of those years sinking too deep. “She didn’t want to quit touring and doing her thing, but Jade needed one of us around and Theoretical Menace was winding down.”

Vague memories bubbled up in Heidi’s mind. Ruby Red and Theoretical Menace. Her friends must have gossiped about the two musical sensations. Or maybe Heidi had just heard about them through the cultural zeitgeist over the years. Something tickled at the back of her thoughts, but her attention was more focused on Jek.

At that moment, he seemed a little less robust than previously. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked about his kid or the mother. She could have just researched it later. Still, Heidi was glad she asked. He cared about his kid, put his career aside to make sure she had what she needed. It only made Jek seem all the better. “So you quit the music life, made time for your kid, and took over your grandmother’s sex store?” 

“Well, Theoretical Menace did a few more tours when Jade got older and was fine with me being gone for stretches of time, but yeah.” Another easygoing shrug before he motioned to the room, the store, at large. “Most of my retirement has been here.”

Casting a look around at the breakroom, Heidi nodded and gave an acknowledging hum. 

“One more question,” Heidi said as she turned to Jek, smiling as he seemed to perk up beneath her gaze. Picking at the back cushion, her lips tilted into a slight teasing smile. “Is this your grandma’s Fuck Futon or…?” 

“All my idea, baby,” Jek chuckled as he shifted himself toward Heidi. He vaguely realized one of her legs curled onto the futon when she turned toward him. She was closer than he thought she was, almost tucked against his side. Almost, but not quite.

“Hate to say it,” Heidi mock frowned, pursing her lips in a way that Jek found too distracting, “but I get why you’re a fan favorite.” 

“Hate to say it? Ouch,” he gasped, holding a hand over his heart as a comically over-the-top pained look crossed his face. 

Realizing she was feeling too warm, a small voice in Heidi’s head chided her. There was no way Jek was flirting from genuine interest, just amusement. It was already clear he and his friends invited people back to Strictly Pleasure whenever they were out, wasn’t it? “I doubt you actually care that much.” 

“You’d be surprised. I am a very sensitive softie,” he laughed, waggling his eyebrows to mask how true he found the statement to be himself.

Heidi snorted, her eyes trailing conspicuously to his groin. “Yeah, you look real soft right now.”

Unable to stop himself as the path her eyes took made his insides burn, Jek leaned closer. His voice dropped low, a playful growl to his words. “Keeping looking and I won’t be.”

The gravel in his tone razed along Heidi’s back, bringing a flush to her cheeks. She couldn’t help laughing, averting her gaze to avoid seeing the smugness in his eyes. “You always have something to say, don’t you?” 

“Well, if you want to shut me up, then you should kiss me.” Immediately, Heidi’s attention snapped back to him, her eyes wide. Jek felt like the wind was knocked out of him. Shit, that was too much. And it was immature. What sort of grown man says such a thing? Pushing himself into a straighter position, giving Heidi some space, he apologetically winced. “Shit. Sorry, forget I said that.“

The blush burned too hot on her cheeks for Heidi to feel the cold disappointment ooze through her, though her stomach somersaulted. “You don’t want me to?”

Swallowing while feeling like he was on the edge of something dangerous, Jek’s gaze flickered away from Heidi before quickly returning. “I thought you were too buzzed.”

“I'm not going to regret just kissing you,” Heidi spoke before she really thought about the answer. Something about Jek’s expression, like he too was navigating waters that could buoy him or drown him, echoed in her chest. Covering her own surprise at herself, Heidi fell back to teasing and wrinkled her nose while still smiling. “Well unless you’re really bad at it. I might regret it then.”

As she unintentionally poked at his pride, Jek’s eyes narrowed. Oh, if that’s how she was going to be, he could play. Shifting until his back met the futon’s arm, Jek brought one foot up onto the cushions and braced his left elbow on his knee. His other foot remained on the floor, legs spread enough for someone - namely Heidi - to crawl between them. 

“Well, come on and find out. If you dare.” With his right hand, he motioned for her to come closer. Despite the ease Jek radiated with his eyes half-lidded and his smirk twisted behind his tusks, his heart thundered in his chest as he waited for Heidi’s reaction.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Next part is already available on my Patreon!

[breezy141]

༺♡༻ similar stories || simon ‘ghost’ riley ༺♡༻

༻✦༺ part two ~ basement ༻✦༺

“y/n!” you heard your name being called out from somewhere within the house, without being fully awake you hummed in response. the cosy duvet was so warm and soft, wasn’t like anything you were used to, you didn’t want to leave. as you were snuggling deeper into the warm bed you heard the basement door open and heavy footsteps getting closer to you.

“christ i’ve been calling you for ages, get up” the man was wearing the dressing gown and slippers but now he had blue joggers on. his loud voice startled you, but nonetheless you slowly sat up.

“i’m sorry, this bed is so comfy. ive never felt something so soft” he furrowed his eyebrows but nodded in response. “well, come on then. your breakfast will be going cold soon” you nodded and climbed out of bed.

“you can use to bathroom upstairs, the one down here doesn’t work to well. it’s on your left as soon as you walk up the stairs” you smiled as he walked off heading back up.

yawning, you grabbed an oversized jumper and some baggy jeans as well as fluffy socks. you cursed to yourself as you realised that through your frantic packing you had completely forgotten to pack a hairbrush. you attempted to use your fingers to brush out any knots, praying it would work, you made your way to the bathroom.

the bathroom was way bigger then yours, but not too big. you did your business, washed your hands and then headed towards the lovely smell of bacon. “do you want a drink? orange juice? cup of tea or coffee?” god what a luxury

“i’ll have orange juice please” you took a seat at the small dinner table that was in the kitchen, you mindlessly looked around. he had a few succulent plants dotted around, as well as an impressive rack of herb and spices next to his microwave.

“here you are” he turned around and handed you a plate full of different foods, as well as your juice. “thank you so much, although i may not be able to eat all of this if that isn’t to much of a problem. i’m not used to a big-ish portion like this” he nodded and took his own seat next to you.

“just eat what you can” you nodded and began eating the food, a small smile crept onto your face. it was lovely, the feeling was short lived before before he began asking you questions.

“what’s your plan?” he asked before taking a sip of his coffee, you swallowed and met his eye “i don’t really have one to be honest, i just had to get out of my home” he nodded.

“what happened?” he dove back into his food, eating slow and proper, unlike you. he could tell you were hesitant to explain. “i offered you a place in my home for the night, you at least owe me an explanation” you nodded.

“my mother wasn’t the kindest of people, and i don’t mean that in a bratty teenagers way. if you get me” he nodded waiting for you to elaborate.

“my mum used to make me cook all the food from a young age, 7 id say, it was only so she could bring another man home that she could have a quick one with and send home the next morning. sometimes..she would make me be apart of it. if i said no she’d beat me black n’ blue. my brother was forced to watch as it was to ‘teach him a lesson’ as she’d say. he was only young when it started”

the man seemed to actually listen to every word you said. although, he never responded. instead he waited for you to finish eating before he started talking.

“here’s what i’m going to offer you y/n, i don’t believe in all those camps for kids shit, yeah? they don’t work and they only care about money” you listened as he spoke.

“i’ll offer you a permanent place” eyes widening, you sat up straight.

“however, there are a few rules. one, you find yourself a job and earn some money, you can buy whatever your heart desires as well as pay me board. i could support the both of us however i want you to understand how life works. rule two, you look after my house while i’m away, which i’ll give you the dates for and that means proper cleaning, no friends around, and no snooping. rule three, you respect me and anyone else who walks through that door as well as the rules. we clear?”

it was a lot to take in however you were good at sticking to rules. “yes sir”

“was starting to get worried! didn’t think you were gonna make it, it’s your own celebration!” a cheerful voice shouted out to you. ah, gaz aka kyle garrick.

“i know i know i’m sorry!” giggling to yourself at the extremely energetic fella. you took a seat next to Cap, he flashed a cheesy smile to you, in which you returned one. “so, how did you manage to become to owner of one of the biggest cafes in this little town?” johnny asked plonking himself next to another one of his colleagues.

ghost. aka. simon riley. he doesn’t talk to you much, well, doesn’t talk to anyone much. but he seems to enjoy it when he’s alone.

“honestly i have no idea, but i do know i would not have do that if it wasn’t for the man sitting next to me!” you cheerfully said, looking over to the bearded man.

“don’t be silly, you did this on your own. proud of you kid. certainly different from the rest of us, but we get a free coffee when we go down there” he smiled down at you, clearly looking impressed. you, yourself, wouldn’t have even guessed you’d be sat here celebrating you becoming the owner of one of, if not the biggest, cafe in your area. it was a huge milestone for you.

“proud of you lass, came a long way” tears pricked at your eyes dont cry don’t cry don’t cry you kept saying to yourself. you were extremely sensitive, you weren’t used to this type of praise but you certainly weren’t against it.

“awhh don’t be all sappy johnny” he put his hands up in defense. “well, we are all thinking it. even this big pile of stone” he said flinging his arm around ghost.

“yeah” is all he said in response, you felt sorry for him in all honesty. you could tell he didn’t want to be here, which you had no problem in. not everyone is a huge fan of social gatherings, you certainly not a fan.

after a few more hours of chinwag and pizza slices, everyone decided it was time to turn in. saying your good nights and hugging people, apart from the obvious person, you made your way to the basement when your official room was.

it was 100x more cosy then what it used to be, you had added plants, string lights, endless amounts of decoration and a new lick of paint on the walls which were losing their colour.

you took of your makeup and got into something more comfy.

*knock knock*

“come in” a surprising face, well mask, approached you. “is everything okay?” you asked, while studying him. he was in a balaclava type thing, only his chocolate brown eyes on show, he had short-ish light eyelashes and freckles dotted sparingly over his nose and cheek bones. he nodded. he even studied you.

you watched as his eyes traced over the scar on your cheek, it went from the top of your temple to the bottom of your jaw. it was faded by now, but you couldn’t miss it.

“wanted to say congrats. was quiet outside” gosh he was blunt, but you understood it wasn’t something he could control.

you smiled “thank you simon” he nodded “it’s nice down here, cosy” he stated looking around “ yea, took me awhile to figure out just how i wanted it” he nodded.

“well, goodnight y/n”

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

I don’t know how much you want to delve into muse discourse but with the voice memo today I’m so fascinated by the obvious muddling of muses that happened from initial draft to final. It makes me think quite a few songs may have been more clearly about the initial muse and re-tooled after the microwave of it all as she processed how similar the experiences were. It’s opened up a whole new discussion point of me lol!

I KNOW!!!!

To be clear when I say I don’t want to delve into the muses I mean I don’t want to personally discuss them as people because I do not care about these men and find them so uninteresting and also I just feel uncomfortable making statements about these real people. And discussion about them always tends to lead into their personal failings and whatever and it just feels weird to me in some instances whereas in others I have no problem calling them out idk i don’t make the rules im a conundrum

That being said I AM SO FASCINATED BY HER WRITING PROCESS

I do think that there are probably many instances where the song started off about one thing and evolved into another which is how they became so muddled. And like you I would not be surprised if some songs DID start out about one person (ahem) but as life happened they evolved into another or both or many or whatever. Like I said earlier, when it comes down to it, Taylor is a storyteller and I assume in many cases she takes the kernel of the idea which is the emotion or the specific event and she creates a story around it. Which may remain factual or may move into metaphor about many things. (Like how I think hoax was created.)

It’s like… I figured that was the case but now she’s basically confirmed it and it’s made my mind race lol

[medicallymercury]

Tinderbox (30/12/23)

I did end up waking up super early (on accident) and watching this episode but I decided not to post my review until after it had been on TV. I've really got to start getting into writing my essays now cause I have less than two weeks even with the deadline extension but I can manage to spend 12 straight hours thinking about writing it (rotating Casualty in my microwave brain) and not even realise I've done it until my mum's alarm goes off.

Well, it was an episode, wasn't it? Sometimes Casualty gives us masterpieces of television (cough Switzerland) and sometimes Casualty gives us "what the fuck was that?" (cough Too Much, Too Young - that was a very mixed Saturday) and Tinderbox was, at least for me, pretty much in the middle. I guess I wasn't as invested as I could've been cause there wasn’t much of my faves, I'd probably be more positive if we had more of them.

Pretty busy and all over the place episode but that’s to be expected at the start of a miniseries, I guess.

Stevie my beloved, she was great in this one. Elinor Lawless is very talented!! This has got me looking forward to her own storyline even more.

I know Ryan was unpopular but I loved him as a problematic little bitch character. Shows like this sometimes need a Ryan to cause problems for everyone and he served his purpose. Like, he is terrible but it was amusing to have a terrible member of the predominantly very sweet baby nurse quartet. I’ll miss him, honestly. I don’t imagine he’ll come back since there’s a new new (I still think of the baby nurses as new) nurse joining next week.

I made this last night, he didn’t actually die but I still think it’s funny:

I really liked that final shot of Jodie, Rida and Cam together but, to quote my mum as it happened, “I feel like all three of them have wanted Ryan to get beaten up at least once before”.

I love a good family storyline, especially when the family has multiple members in the main cast cause I think it allows for more development of the relationship (gestures wildly at Jan and Teddy), and Max and Jodie were great today. Loved all their interactions. Especially loved their conversation about Max’s kidney failure and especially “I wouldn’t allow it, even if you wanted to.” “Which I don’t.” “Well at least we agree on one thing” and “I’m sorry I’m not what you expected” (!!!!!!!!!!). I think they’re more similar than either of them realises, and I love that kind of dynamic - in both my ‘main fandoms’ my favourite characters are girls whose relationships with their fathers could be described as “I’m nothing like my dad (I’m just acting exactly like him)”. There’s definitely examples of that in this episode but back in Driving Force I remember a scene where Dylan tells them that neither of them should be treating Max’s mum and they both stand there looking at him with the same expression.

I expected that knowing the Teddy infidelity arc will happen would affect how I watch the show and when Paige and Jodie were treating the same patient I was 👁️👁️ the whole time. Whatever, I’ll get over it (hhhhhhh).

Sah was in this but so barely that the credits didn’t actually include Arin, which is weird to me.

I will say I think Casualty has been on weird pacing recently. I’d blame the miniseries format but it feels like there has been some storylines that are too long-running without saying anything new (FAITH) and other ones that get dropped too quickly without enough time to actually go into the ideas they implied were happening.

I think it was a good start to the new series but I would’ve liked them to cut the Faith stuff and have something actually happening with the paramedics instead.

Yes, I know complaining about Faith is beating a dead horse. However, in continuing to write her and this storyline, the writers have invented a dead horse beating machine to keep beating the dead horse perpetually. It goes on endlessly and has absolutely nothing new to say. And while some storylines have been getting these rushed and incomplete conclusions, Casualty had an opportunity to give the Faith storyline a conclusion with her going to rehab and staying there and then they didn’t. Tired of it. Also, not to be mean to the presumably overwhelmed Holby HR department but why would they ask Faith of Drug Theft Fame to come back??? This is why your hospital is like this, your hiring practices are terrible.

[sillylandmagic]

Me and my twin brother have autism, I wanted to share our similarities and differences. And how it affects our relationship in general.

When we were toddlers, I was identified as having autism early on by doctors. I had delayed milestones, like really bad, like all of the above milestones are what I missed. I also showed very significant characteristics of autism, I looked away when someone talked to me, I’d maybe look in their direction, but not at them. I’d sometimes make noises and babbling till about 4, and spoke in 1-3 sentence words after that until I was probably 8. I screamed and cried at changes and sensory stimuli. I don’t remember getting diagnosed, it was probably when I was a toddler. I don’t know if I was given a level or not, haven’t asked my mom.

For my brother, he had some delayed milestones at least to my knowledge. He wasn’t identified with having autism as a child. At the same time, we were both afab(a female at birth) so it was harder for us both. But I still got diagnosed as a toddler, he does not have a diagnosis sadly. He also showed signs of autism, but they weren’t identified because he didn’t need as much support.

Now to us as teens. We have a few things in common with our autism. We both struggle with communication and understanding social cues, we both stim, we both have a monotone pitched voice, we both have blank expressions, and we both love each other a lot.

There is quite a few differences that interfere with our relationship somewhat. My brother has the ability to mask more than me, which definitely changes our appearance from an outside perspective. For me, I can’t mask, whether that be stimming, behavior, my expressions, or my outward appearance in general. We also have varying support needs, I can’t do things that he can. We both need clear, literal instructions to do things. But for the most part, I need more step by step instructions and support to do even basic things. I also am physically and intellectually disabled, which impacts me a ton along with my autism.

My brother can socialize effectively, communicate for the majority of the time, and do things independently for the most part. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t struggle with it, I’m not saying that at all. I’m just saying that he finds things easier. He is able to wash the dishes, cook, clean, tie his shoes, do laundry, he’s even gonna get his driver’s license next year probably. For me, I can’t do much or struggle to do a lot. I don’t talk to people much, I’m sort of in my own world all of the time. I struggle to speak and comprehend language. I can make very simple meals or get snacks, I can’t use any other heating element other than a toaster or microwave. I have lots of difficulty tying my shoes and do it in an alternate way or someone else does it. It would be unsafe for me to drive at all, I have slight vision problems and also have extremely low processing speed and cognition. I need someone to verbally tell me to take a shower, brush my teeth and sometimes even hair, to eat, to go out with me if I take a walk to the local library. If I didn’t have anyone to to tell me to do things and make sure I do them, or help me do basic things, I wouldn’t live. I wouldn’t be able to go out to buy food or period products. I wouldn’t be able to take my medication. I wouldn’t be able to do anything. I am dependent, and it makes me feel ashamed.

But, someone that’s helped me though, is my brother. He cares about me and plays with my stuffed animals with me. He ties my shoes, he washes my hair, he makes me food sometimes, I show him I appreciate it through hugs and excitement. Because he means a lot to me, and I want him to know how much he means to me, but it’s hard to tell him just how much. So I’ll say it here🤍

[gamebird]

I just learned 'the burrito test' exists and let me tell you, same applies to abusive relationships.

Supposedly, "If an adult wants to get up at midnight and microwave a burrito, they should be able to do that, no questions asked." And if you don't pass it, you're living in an institution (this for people with disabilities). There's some kind of similarity here with people in abusive domestic situations, where you can't fix food for yourself, leave the house, or even be active at a nonstandard hour without an interrogation, possible punishment, and ...

Anyway, I'm spiraling and I need to not but if I knew how to fix my problem, I would. At least a stressor has been removed. And now I'm remembering I pulled out my laptop to put on some restful music to calm my ass down so I'll go do that.

[little-miss-doe]

[ rotating Orthax around in my brain like it's in a microwave ]

Orthax really is the gaslighting and obsessed ex-boyfriend from the abyss Percy didn’t even know he was in a relationship with until it was to late ... and that's a whole emotion.

They didn't ever get destroyed in campaign 1 and Percy is very literally 'the one that got away', there's no way they didn't take that personally. Orthax will likely be a reoccurring problem until ended at the source similar to Hotis. It's easy to think that whoever they attach to next may be compelled to target Percy as part of the pact.

I've always felt that post-campaign something happens where Orthax rears it's ugly beak and the party goes and finishes it off in the Abyss. That would probably be a fun excuse for a one shot, but I don't ever really expect to see that.