#Golf Flyer

[satgur]

Golf Tournament Flyer Template

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Easily create flyer with this template, with well organized file and layers. Print it or use for social media.

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[dogwittaablog]

SIGN OF LIFE WITH HIS BOYFRIEND WTF

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 5 thoughts

boy. where this episode started out and where this episode ended were two VASTLY different spaces. come along while i undergo this journey.

the first thing we see is a dog! a doggy! it's a border collie, and it looks like it could be the same one we see in s1 episode 8- maybe dog actors are in short supply! but border collies are famously very smart and to me the cutest of all dogs, so i was pleased to see a friendly face <3

and then things escalated. aliens arrived to fetch the dog's owner.

thankfully they left the dog alone- perhaps they saw the threatening "ALIENS, STAY AWAY FROM THAT DOG" i had written in my notes- but whatever they are inflicting upon this gentleman seems. unpleasant.

(the aliens are obviously terrifying but they're always shown vaguely wiggling in some cold white light and it does make me laugh. ohhhh here they come. the wigglers)

so in the morning our gentleman- duane- was taken to a correctional facility and he hasn't been taking his meds... and then he hurts his doctor! they always find the kindest looking people to play doctors on this show and then make them suffer

THE NEXT THING WE SEE IS: a pool? the pool scene i wrote about seeing a while ago in my last post! the one where mulder emerges mostly naked from his exercise to face this new guy who looks like he covers his beer stench with a designer cologne!

i rewound to see whose pool it was mulder was swimming in but gained no clues. would be sick if the FBI had an in house pool.

breaking news: this SOAKING WET MAN is called to a HOSTAGE SITUATION!

(i do find it endearing that he swims recreationally <3)

next thing i wrote was "alex is pissing me off" and i don't even remember what he did but i stand by it

so mulder is at the scene, duane has four hostages, and claims to be abducted by aliens. now to mulder it makes perfect sense to ask about his abduction experience, and he's trying to do his homework and follow the rules for hostage negotiation, but duane knows all the tricks because he's former FBI which they DID NOT TELL MULDER!

he walks up to the head of the hostage situation and very angrily asks if she knows about how aliens will take your brains out and fuck with your ovaries and she tries not to laugh at him. mulder tell me what they do to ovaries i'll listen. i'll take notes.

and then alex is trying to be all sickly sweet puppy dog boy and asks if he can do anything to help. so the head of the hostage situation tells him to get her a coffee. HA! POINT AT HIM AND LAUGH.

cutscene to SCULLY CAM!!!! <3 she's gonna sleuth for his medical records

ohhh the power went out and duane started blasting. he shot someone so they're gonna send mulder and another guy in (an excuse for mulder to wear a paramedic uniform.......)

mulder's like nooo i won't tell him i believe in aliens (<- said by a man who is lying)

and off to the races, can you imagine it, he does JUST that, says he believes duane and trades himself for the guy who was shot... he says it happened to his sister OHHHHHHH sister mention

he's got the guy monologuing about his tortures from the aliens and honestly, these aliens are bitches. there is NO reason to do all of this. drilling holes in his teeth??? that's fucked

alex is on the phone with scully who is freaking tf out because duane is lying about who he says he is... when he tells her he traded himself for the injured hostage she says "WHAT!" so loudly and is filled with intense urgency

! MULDER LORE REVEAL ! his sister was 8 when they took her

(for some reason i thought she was 10 when it happened, but the larger age gap between them explains a lot in terms of his instinctive level of Protectiveness towards all creatures big and small)

this next part had me GAGGED: SCULLY FLEW IN FROM WASHINGTON!!!! she is AT THE SCENE and she is YELLING at someone who isn't listening to her

alex made a VERY FATAL mistake in telling her to "calm down" while mulder is a HOSTAGE and she RIGHTFULLY told him off (and frankly she could have kept going and i wouldn't have complained) but she's a woman who gets things done so she finds someone who will actually listen to her

she says he has a very unique case of being shot in a specific part of the brain which happened to another guy before and then that guy became a pathological liar so she is basically saying "duane is the nastiest skank bitch i have ever met do NOT trust him"

so back to the scene. duane is saying the government is there while the aliens do all this. which i have no idea how to interpret so i'm just storing it here for later use.

SCULLY CAN HEAR HIM! she's on his secret wire mic and talking to him. duane can hear her a little bit but is going on about "the mountains"... it was at this point, with scully talking in mulder's ear, that everything was so tense i had a brief moment where i remembered that this is actually a tv show i'm watching in my free time and not an actual life or death thing

mulder convinces duane to let the women go and the younger one says she believes him which had to be impactful i'd think

but the snipers are closing in!!! mulder sees the line of fire on him and calls him over to get him out of the way so he won't get shot....

he asks duane if she was lying to distract him and now he's VERY VERY VERY ANGRY and he tries to calm him back down and say hey... you forgot to lock the door.... please go lock the door...

and he goes over to the door and bam. duane's shot.

we see scully and mulder watch as he's loaded into the ambulance and mulder looks deeply conflicted and once again has his sad wet eyes on because he still believes duane was telling the truth. scully tells mulder he did the right thing in getting him to go to the door, because we all know by now that mulder has a complicated set of feelings towards any loss of life.

"whatever you're feeling, you did the right thing" <- augh. scully loves him so much. oh to love anyone how truly and deeply scully loves this man

(shhhh i'm not getting into what kind of love it is. i don't know and whatever your answer for its flavor is, you cannot deny that she loves him. that she tries to find the exact words he wants to hear to soothe that internal Guilt he wears like a heavy jacket.)

later he smiles when the lead hostage negotiator calls him to thank him because he broke all of her rules and thought he was going to get yelled at LMAOOO that lil smile was very sweet

and he goes to see duane but the REAL reason she called him in was to tell him about the metal they extracted from duane's body... the doctors claim that the stuff in his teeth could not have been made from any current technology... alien life confirmed??

((i thought the episode would end here on a little cliffhanger that never gets resolved but boy. i was off))

no, instead of an episode's conclusion, we see mulder bring the metal pieces to scully, who once again has the most beautiful freckles in the world, and she says she'll take it down to be analyzed.

mulder leaves the room without saying a word which i thought to be cold in the moment and now that i'm typing this knowing what happens next i might actually cry.

she goes to the store and she's buying some stuff... we see kodak film in the background... sigh instant cameras i love you and your work... but she buys $11 of groceries and then sneaks the metal chip across the barcode reader and it makes the whole thing break down!!!!

the poor cashier is freaking out because the machine is going wild and she looks at scully like "did you touch it?" and she says no and awkwardly leaves LMAOOOOOOO i was howling because girl idk wtf i would have done in that situtation either

duane wakes up to more aliens and rips all his medical stuff off and runs like he didn't get shot very recently and he's on the prowl for something

scully's back at her place, calling mulder, telling him about how the barcode scanned, and she's really worked up about the whole thing, when she hears a rustle, but it's just a thunderstorm...

but she goes to the window and DUANE IS THERE!!! a look of horror passes over her face, and we hear her through mulder's answering machine, screaming for help while he takes her

(everything happened SO quickly, it transpired in my notes like this: WHAT!!! he's outside her window WHAT THE FUCK TO BE CONTINUED??)

yes. we get a "TO BE CONTINUED" on the outtro scene.

i sat there, baffled for a few moments, trying to process what i just saw.

but then i thought i noticed something else: her place looked different than it did in s1. at least, i thought it did- we didn't see it much, but perhaps she got fed up with folks showing up like eugene tooms did in s1 and bought a nicer space. i thought the old space was cute though, and maybe it really is the same space but from a different angle, but then i thought about how it looked like mulder's space also changed from s1, so maybe they both moved, or maybe i'm just not good at noticing things, but oh yeah, scully's in virigina now since she's at the academy, so she probably DID move, although i thought the drive from DC to virigina was doable, but maybe not?

none of this changes the fact that scully has been TAKEN.

(i won't lie, i knew this was going to happen at some point, because i read the s2 episode descriptions and saw something about her being "returned", which implies being taken in the first place. but still. it was very abrupt. they had thoroughly lulled me into expecting a vague sort of non-answer of an ending and then switched out the formula at just the right time so i never grew suspicious)

to be continued!!! this is soooo evil, especially because i don't have time to watch the next episode tomorrow. so i'm gonna walk around all day tomorrow at important work events thinking about what horrors scully must be enduring and get NO conclusion as to what they might be. duane i have fists and you are not real and i am small but i am unafraid to bludgeon you. stay away from her if you even LOOK at her ohhhh you're gonna learn a lot more than what it feels like when aliens take out ur brain just keep that in mind!

(and man. i'm sitting here typing. thinking about how mulder never said a real goodbye to her the last time they spoke. and i wonder if that's gonna haunt him. and i wonder if when he gets her back, he always always always makes sure to take the time for a goodbye. just on the off chance it might really be the last one. fuck.)

[oldshowbiz]

[thelastdaysofanalogue]

25.01.04 - Jesse James at Mister Smiths, Bournemouth

This was an important show for a few reasons. Until this point I’d only been to gigs in big venues (or in one case, the attic of our school’s historic manor house building). This was my first ‘local’ show, in a local venue, put on by a local promoter, with local supports, for local people.

My friends and I had got into Jesse James off the back of being avid Less Than Jake fans, and as an extension of that, the Golf Records roster (Golf had made LTJ albums more widely available in the UK). There was some heavier stuff on Golf Records' series of CD compilations Another Round Of Golf and then there was the stuff that we liked, the fast paced, brassy ska punk.

We got to the venue ridiculously early. I think it was pre 4pm, doors weren’t until 8. We were the first and only people queuing. We saw all the bands arrive and load their gear up that lethally steep staircase.

A particularly cringeworthy memory from this afternoon in the cold is handing members of Jesse James small milk cartons we’d taken from Burger King. We were thrilled when guitarist Rich Warren graciously accepted the milk and said “Mmmm thanks! Great for my bones!”.

Finally getting inside the box of a room that was Smiths (RIP) was like being admitted to a members only club. We’d arrived. We skanked, we stage dived, I got up on stage during Jesse James’ set and sang along with the "woah-oh-ohs". It was all as if we’d discovered a secret pocket universe full of everything we loved and we could finally play a bigger part in it.

[omedapixel]

MORE DEBUG OBJECTS

By poular demand, here are the rest of the prop and miscellaneous objects enabled for decorating! I don't have any pics right now, but the full list of objects is below the cut, and each package is merged by expansion pack.

As with my other debug objects, these can all be found under DEBUG > MISC. The catalog names are often something weird, because I haven't edited or added any strings.

These objects are technically not CC, it just allows you to access and decorate with objects that are already in game. Therefore you can uninstall these overrides, share worlds and lots using them, and they'll still remain wherever you've placed them.

Also, if you have a default replacement for any of these props, for example a plate default, then the object will also be updated to reflect that.

I highly reccomment using this in conjunction with my S3DT mod, since some of the objects are half sunk into the ground by default.

DOWNLOAD HERE

Object List Below

BASE GAME:

Guitar Case

Amplifier

Bottle Spigot (unused asset)

Child Ladle

Child Mixing Bowl

Cutting Board (slots do no work, unfortunately)

Fire Extinguisher

Fire Poker

Fire Lighter

Hammer

Bartending Bottle Prop

Ice Cream Cone

Microwave Meal

Paper Plate

Screwdiver

Sponge

Toilet Brush

Wedding Ring

Wrench

WORLD ADVENTURES:

Canteen

Chopsticks

Dig Site Brush

Flour Bag

Fortune Cookie

Map (looks like plain parchment)

Nectar Glass

Nectar Tray

Pamphlet

Pickaxe

Pungi (snake charming instrument)

AMBITIONS:

Chisel

Fire Axe

Blowtorch

Chainsaw

Detonator

Gnubb Bunny

Gnubb King

Junk Pipe Piece

Magnifying Glass

Notepad

Shovel

Tape Measure

Tattoo Gun

Triangle Ruler

Walkie Talkie

LATE NIGHT:

Drink Shaker

Drumstick

Party Glass

Round Party Glass

Bartending Bottle Prop

Juice Can

GENERATIONS:

Envelope

Love Letter Envelope

Cheap RAM Disk

Expensive RAM Disk

Beaker

Rolled Diploma

Flashlight

Game Controller

Greeting Card

Round Flask

Sparkling Juice (champagne)

PETS:

Hoofpick

Adult Pitchfork

Child Pitchfork

Plastic Pet Food Bowl

Cat Hunting Chip Bag

Cat Hunting Feather

Cat Hunting Leaf

Dog Treat

Foal Bottle

Horse Brush

Litter Scoop

Pet Brush

Stick (for playing fetch)

Freezer Bunny Ice Cream

Kitty Litter Pile

Rainbow Ice Cream

(forgot to do the chocolate ice cream, sorry!)

SHOWTIME:

CD Case

Record

Golf Ball

Juggling Pin

Microphone (grey)

Snack Bowl

Headphones

Golf Club Average

Golf Club Expert

Golf Club Old

Firefly Jar

FireflyJar Lid

Juggling Knife

Magician Sword

SUPERNATURAL:

Fly Swatter

White Glove

Bonehilda Key

Alchemy Bowl

Alchemy Package

Beehive Smoker

SEASONS:

Horseshoe

Child Rake

Adult Rake

Barista Bar Cup

Egg Hunt Basket

Trick or Treat Basket

Carving Knife

Fruit Punch

Hot Beverage Cup

Stack of Hot Dogs

Love Letter

Pie (from eating contest)

Snow Cone Syrup

Soccer Ball

Tissue

Spooky Day Candy

UNIVERSITY:

Clipboard

Red Juice Cup

Art Scanner

Bonfire Logs

Candy Bar

Cold One

College Letter

Energy Drink

Manilla Envelope

Macot Plushy

Ping Pong Ball

Ping Pong Paddle

Mistletoe (unused asset)

Protest Banners (3 versions)

Protest Flyer

Smartphone

Soda Can

Paint Sray Can

Suitcase

Whiteboard Eraser

Whiteboard Marker

ISLAND PARADISE:

Broom

Coconut Drink

Cold Beverage

Grim Reaper Trident

Pineapple Drink

Rescue Tube

Glass Bottle Pool Bar

Pool Bar Juice Can

INTO THE FUTURE:

Microphone (black)

OIl Puddle

Stardust

Paper Bag

[sirfrogsworth]

Early voting to beat the lines... the best-laid schemes of mice and men often go awry.

So... yesterday was quite the day.

After being stuck in bed for the past 6 weeks with some mystery slump, I was finally feeling better. So I decided I would try to cram as many errands into my day as possible. That works better for me when I drive out into the world because I end up only having to do one big recovery instead of a bunch of little recoveries.

My to-do list...

Go to the doctor

Vote early

Return oxygen machine to FedEx store for scammy eBay guy

Return Amazon package to the UPS store

Get gasoline for my whip

Go to Discount Tire to get my tires filled for free

Drop a check off for my lawn guy

Mail a secret package to Katrina at the US Post Office

It would have been nice if I could have gone to just one shipping place instead of all three, but the universe has a sense of humor and likes to do shit like that to me on a regular basis.

So, I get my checkup, it goes quick, no long wait, I'm feeling good.

As I get in my car, it starts to rain. It was an ugly day and it actually has not stopped raining to this very moment a day later. Just gray, windy, chilly, and wet. I look up the voting place and start the GPS.

Wipers and music on full blast, it's time to get my vote on.

When I reach my destination, I realize early voting is at some kind of private golf club. And at the center is a recreation center—which is a public building.

So it's like this private/public turducken situation.

I was expecting this errand to take 20 minutes. Because early voting always seemed like a way to get in before the crowds of election day for a more convenient voting experience.

But the parking lot was packed and I feared my expectations were about to be subverted.

As I walk through the parking lot I see a bunch of signs in the ground.

And a particular one caught my eye.

This is bullshit.

Like, just a straight up lie. No truth to it whatsoever.

Amendment 3 in Missouri basically restores abortion rights in the state. And Republicans have taken issue with the following language...

"The Government shall not deny or infringe upon a person's fundamental right to reproductive freedom, which is the right to make and carry out decisions about all matters relating to reproductive health care, including but not limited to prenatal care, childbirth, postpartum care, birth control, abortion care, miscarriage care, and respectful birthing conditions."

They claim the phrasing "but not limited to" means you can give an 8-year-old kid "sex change surgery."

This is how their online flyer puts it...

It could also include a free puppy.

Or a zillion bucks.

Or a clown will come to your house after the abortion and honk your nose.

It's ridiculous and desperate. I honestly don't know how it is legal for them to put a lie like that outside of a polling location, but here we are.

The organization "Missouri Stands with Women" is run by... a man.

It was set up by a lawyer named "Edward Greim" on behalf of the Federalist Society.

His law firm has a lovely biography about him. And a bunch of publicly available contact information. I say that for no reason whatsoever.

The Federalist Society funds all kinds of shit like this. Their main thing is installing conservative judges all over the country who will reinterpret or negate legislation. And they do it all to "stand with women" by taking away their reproductive rights.

Here is the board of directors of the Federalist Society.

Ya know, before I looked this up, I said to myself, "I bet it's going to be a sausage fest." I am psychic.

I think it would be more accurate to say they stand with A woman.

Just one.

And she sucks.

Nicole is a law professor at Notre Dame. She chose her Catholicism over her right to choose. The Catholic Church will fuck your rights and your children and Nicole will help them do it.

Anyway... back to my quick and easy voting experience...

So as I'm walking in to vote I keep passing a ton of these awful signs. I notice an older woman standing next to the aforementioned "child sex change" sign and she says, "Can I talk to you about Amendment 3?"

At this point, I'm pretty angry. I look her dead in the eyes and say with my most assholish tone, "NO." as I walk past her.

And then she finishes her sentence...

"...to protect the reproductive rights of women."

Ah, dammit.

I thought she was an old Karen but she was cool as heck. Standing out in the rain telling people the sign is bullshit. I wanted to turn around and apologize but I was stuck in full social anxiety mode so I just kept walking.

If that old lady happens to have a Tumblr and follows me and is willing to read this giant story... I just want to say I am sorry. I thought you were awful and I should have let you finish your sentence. You're super cool and I'm happy there are folks like you fighting for what is right.

I get inside and a young woman greets me. She tells me the line is in the next room and points. I still wasn't quite sure what the situation was. The parking lot being full gave me pause, but I was still hopeful I could have a swift early voting experience.

But I walk through the doors and into a huge gymnasium and my heart sinks.

It's hard to represent in pictures how long this line is.

It goes all the way to the end of the gym, loops around, and comes back. At first I was not too discouraged, because there was a nice gentle ramp at the start of the line.

But then I notice several sets of stairs at different stages of the line. And I'm just thinking how hard it would be to stand in this line and then also having to go up and down several sets of stairs.

So I go back to the young woman working there and ask what their accessible voting options are. And she told me I could do curbside voting and points outside. I then notice a line of cars wrapped around the parking lot. I don't know how I didn't see them walking in, but I guess I was too busy being a jerk to elderly progressive women.

My biggest concern was time.

The longer this takes, the more energy I use up, the longer my eventual recovery will be.

They tell me the car option is the slowest. And I could be in line for 2 to 3 hours. And then an old man who seemed to be in charge walks over and tells me the fastest option is to stand in line.

So I walk back out to my car and grab my cane and decide to try the long serpentine gynasium line.

I start walking up the ramp and some of the other folks see how slow and labored I'm walking and they start encouraging me. "You can do it! You got this!" Which I suppose was meant to be a positive helpful thing. But I found it to be embarrassing.

I get to the end of the line and notice most of the line has bleachers directly next to it. So I decide to sit down and rest and figure out how I am going to survive this experience.

It took me a while to recover from the long walk to this spot. I watched a bunch of people pass me by and the line was actually getting much longer as I rested. I was not really sure what to do. I was trying to problem-solve this situation but the answer that kept popping up in my mind was just... "go home."

But I felt this was too important and that wasn't really an option.

My best idea was to ask someone if they would hold my spot in line. Perhaps I could just sit in the bleachers and follow them around in the line, staying as close to them as I could. But my social anxiety was set to maximum and I was not finding the courage to ask someone.

After about 10 minutes of sitting, resting, and thinking, I basically say, "Fuck it, I'll try to stand in line."

I get up and start walking to the end of the line.

Then I hear a voice yell out to me.

"Hey, man! Come over here! This is your spot!"

A young man was waving at me. He was accompanied by his wife. Both of them were dressed in black and they had a sort of goth skater aesthetic going on. He had a competitively bushy beard, but with less gray. And she had very vivid purple hair.

I was a little confused and still processing what was happening. Then they both started waving at me to join them in line. They remembered I got there just before and told me I should be in front of them. I walk over and thank them. Then he suggests...

"Hey, why don't you just sit in the bleachers and follow us around the line."

He suggested my idea!

Without me asking!

I felt like he read my mind or something.

Can bearded people read each others' minds? Was this some beard skill I was unaware of?

"I got you, man. You just sit and we'll keep your place."

And his violet hair'd significant other agreed. "Yeah, we got you."

The kindness of strangers was more accessible than my polling place and I was just so thankful in that moment.

So I sat in the bleachers and watched them traverse the line. In the middle of the gym there were some teenagers playing basketball. And so I just rested and watched them play.

That young man in the red pants was like a goddamn Harlem Globetrotter. He was just embarrassing the others. He was bouncing the ball behind his back and through his legs and then he just danced around his opponents like a figure skater. It was such an unbalanced matchup. He might as well have been playing 4th graders. Not only was he significantly faster and more maneuverable, but he was consistently hitting 3-pointers.

And then during a break, he ran towards the hoop, jumped from the free throw line, flew all the way to the net, grabbed onto the rim, and proceeded to do several pull ups as if they were the easiest thing in the world. I don't think I've seen anyone jump that far and that high in real life and it was just a bonkers display of athleticism.

I spent the entire wait watching him humiliate the others—hoping he would get a full ride scholarship to some prestigious university.

And I hoped the other boys paid attention in school and got straight As, because basketball was not going to work out for them.

As my new goth skater friends progressed through the line, I would make sure to keep sight of them. Every once in a while I'd give them a head nod to acknowledge we were in this together. After an hour and a half they were at the final segment of the line, so I sat next to the wheelchair folks.

I probably could have argued to sit with them in the first place. But I really did not feel like making the case that I was just as disabled as them and needed that level of consideration. The old man running things seemed quite stressed and was putting out 8 fires at once. And my anxiety wasn't really cooperating enough to be assertive in my needs.

But it worked out in the end, so I'm not going to dwell on the lack of accommodation for people who weren't *visually* disabled.

My new bearded friend neared the end and waved me over. I thanked him and his wife profusely.

I joked, "Thank you for adopting a voter."

They seemed confused by my joke.

"No problem, man. Happy to help."

I told him and his wife they truly saved me. "I honestly don't think I would have made it through the line." And then I looked back...

I said, "As crazy as this is, I do find this kind of turnout encouraging." His wife agreed and said, "We were saying the same thing!" And then I thought, "Can the wives of bearded people absorb the mind reading ability? I hope she can't read my mind right now. Although, I'm mostly thinking that her hair is a really cool shade of purple, so she'd probably find that complimentary."

As I waited to get my ballot I could hear the happy couple behind me. They were very cute. They were making fun of each other in a very lovey-dovey fashion. I had high hopes they were going to grow old and gray and purple together based on their chemistry. And I was just so thankful they were able to recognize that I needed help without me asking. Because I probably would have just caved to my anxiety and not asked for help otherwise.

I got my ballot and sat down to fill in all of the appropriate squares. Thankfully I had prepared a cheat sheet on my phone.

It was an exact replica so I was able to copy it and finish quite rapidly.

Then I fed my votes into the vote-eating monster and they gave me a sticker.

My quick 20 minute adventure to vote early only took 2.5 hours!

And because I didn't want to buck tradition, I stood outside in the wind and the rain and took a voting selfie.

Yep, that seems about right.

Ah, crap... that was only the second thing on my to-do list.

Let's speedrun the rest of this story, shall we?

I drove to FedEx. I hauled a 40 pound box inside. I plopped it on the counter and said, "Man, this thing is heavy!" as I tried to catch my breath. The 20 year old working there then lifted it like it was a feather and I felt great about that.

I drove to the gas station because I was nearly on empty—that is both a metaphor and not a metaphor. I filled my ride with go juice.

I noticed I was a mile from the tire store and they fill up tires for free. So I did that and the guy was super nice and complimented my tires. I felt both weird and proud about having my tires complimented. Like, I had nothing to do with my tires being nice. But I accepted the praise on their behalf.

I drove to the UPS store. The last time I was there I made a scene. They refused to box up a return and I got upset and wasn't feeling well and they had to find a chair for me to sit in because I was going to faint. So I was hoping the same woman wasn't there, but she was. She didn't recognize me, so it was fine.

I drove to my lawn guy's house. He wasn't home. I dropped a check in his mailbox. My checks have corgis on them. My checks are cute.

I drove to the post office. I sent a secret package to my bestie, Katrina. I'd tell you what is in it, but it is an inside joke and you wouldn't get it. The woman noticed my voting sticker and I couldn't help thinking about what I just accomplished to get that sticker.

On my way out I noticed a miracle.

2 of the 4 doors were fixed!

I mean, I don't know why they couldn't fix all 4, but now the employees won't freeze in the winter. So I take that as a win. It only took a year and a half to accomplish and I'm sure all of my phone calls and emails did not help at all. But I'm going to pretend I saved the day regardless.

And then... I drove home.

5 hours of errands.

I was so fucking tired. My back was on fire with pain. I immediately collapsed into my bed. I passed out. And I slept for 14 hours.

The End

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 34

part 1 | part 33 | ao3

Steve ducks his head against the flurries falling outside The Hideout as he makes his way for the entrance and tries really, really hard to not to feel totally out of place.

He agreed to meet Robin and her friends here separately because he was coming straight from a shift, but he’s kind of regretting that now. The only black thing he had in his wardrobe that was at all weather appropriate was a tight-fitting black knit pullover with a high collar and a silver zipper down the front, and he feels like some dorky, supportive golf dad coming to cheer on his rebellious son after a long day out on the green. The light wash jeans and silver wristwatch aren’t really helping matters.

Jesus. He should have let Robin dress him.

The guy at the ticket counter seems to agree because he gives Steve a weird look when he approaches and asks, “Are you lost?”

“Uh, no.” And if it comes out slightly more bitchy than he intended, well—

“Five dollars,” the guy scowls.

Strike that. Maybe it didn’t come out nearly bitchy enough. “The flyer says it’s two.”

The guy eyes him up with a tight, sarcastic smile and pops his chewing gum. “For you it’s five.”

Oh, my god. Operation Woo Your Man might be dead before it starts, because Steve’s about to smash the ticket booth window and pummel this fucking guy.

“I already got yours!” Robin calls brightly, jogging up behind him on the sidewalk and waving a lime green wristband. “He’s good,” she tells the guy, then tells Steve, “Eddie said to give you this.”

Ticket guy frowns, and Steve gloats as Robin fixes the bracelet to his wrist. Yeah, buddy, you heard that right; I'm with the band.

Robin drags him into the bar, and he stops her just inside the door, hugging her tight enough to lift her up on tiptoe, smacking a kiss to the side of her head. He jostles her around until something in her neck pops, and when he lets her go she groans, “Oh, my god, do that again.”

She spins around, crossing her arms over her chest. Steve grabs her by the elbows; shakes her like a piggy bank until her spine goes crack-crack-crack.

“Wow,” she sighs dreamily when he sets her down. “Marry me.”

“You can’t just marry me for my massage services.”

“I know; it’s tragic. Anyway, come on.” She takes his hand. “Everyone’s already at the table.”

“Who’s everyone?”

Robin doesn’t answer — probably can’t hear him over the loud rock music pouring through the speakers — but she weaves them through the venue, skirting the edge of the main floor.

Steve’s never actually been in here, but it’s pretty much what he expected: black walls, black floor, black leather jackets on the handful of regulars. The stage is off to their left, already set up with Eddie’s band’s gear by the looks of it, though he doesn’t see them anywhere. Must be backstage getting ready.

In front of the stage is a small, empty dance floor, flanked by rickety tables with mismatched chairs, and overhead there’s a balcony with a sound booth and more seats. To their right, the main bar: a long, ancient dark wood counter that’s been graffitied to absolute shit, covered in band stickers and beer labels and ‘so and so wuz here’s, and just up ahead, lining the far wall, Steve spots a row of wraparound booths.

Dark red leather, the stuffing spilling out through time-worn splits. Only one of them is occupied. Steve can’t make out much from this distance beyond the vague shape of the people sitting there, but considering it’s the only table with any chicks at it, he figures that’s their group.

Suddenly, Robin stops. Turns around to look at him; drops his hand and bites her lip. “Okay, so. Don’t get mad…”

Steve narrows his eyes. He knows that guilty grimace. Whatever it is, he’s definitely about to get mad about it, or at very least annoyed. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Robin.”

“Okay!” She steps to the side, and he marches toward the table to try and get a better view, Robin trailing after him, rambling, “For the record, I really didn’t do it, I swear! But, like— well, Beth is friends with Fred, and Fred is on the school paper, so I guess he just—”

The details shift into focus: tiny frame, rigid posture. Big, curly dark brown hair.

Oh, son of a bitch. No. No.

Nancy Wheeler’s here.

—

part 35

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[ghostboneswrites2]

A Mess || Part 8

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring everything here starting with this series since it was the most popular!

A/N: this is not the last part I promise

Summary: You finally make it to the town you set out for all those days ago. Feelings get shared when you find a place to stay for the night.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, suggestive

        "Can't believe we left the map." Daryl shook his head as he drove. He finally got one of the cars working, though it had a strong gasoline smell as he drove it. 

        "You were in charge of it." You pointed out.

        "Don;t need it anyhow." He defended. Men and their pride when it came to directions never ceased to amuse you. "Should be 'bout thirty minutes up this road. We can load up some while we're there, get gas, hole up of the night, and loot s'more before we head back tomorrow."

        "Sounds great." You agreed. "If I have to go one more day without a shower I'm gonna kill someone."       

        "Can barely fight a walker off of ya. Who you gonna kill?" He teased.

        "I was distracted." You defended.

        "With what? The view?" He retorted. Well, yes, but you couldn't tell him that.

        "Whatever." You grumbled, crossing your arms and turning your attention out of the window.

        It wasn't long before the town you two originally set out for rolled into view. You spent an hour looting an old thrift store for some clothes and random things you thought the prison could use. Board games, soaps, hairbrushes, plates and bowls, you name it. If they had it, you took it. Next was the pawnshop for guns and ammo, which were pretty sparse but they did have some good knives and machetes. You also found an old DVD player and some movies that you thought might be nice for Carl or something. Daryl focused more on equipment. Golf clubs, tools, lawn equipment for when everyone started working on the garden.

        On your way out of the pawnshop with your load of treasure, you noticed a flyer on the window. 'MONTHLY FOOD DRIVE - DELIVER ALL GOODS TO 227 PINEBLUFF CT DR'

        "Hey, check this out." You called Daryl over. He squinted as he read it.

        "C'mon. Town's small. Can't be too hard to find."

----

        It wasn't hard to find. It was a church, of course. Wasn't hard to clear the place out, either. Just the pastor and a few ladies stumbling around. They had a bunch of canned goods stored in an office, which you and Daryl happily loaded up in the car.

        "Think this is a good spot to crash for the night?" You asked him. 

        "Nah. Windows are all busted. We'll find a little house or somethin." He said.

        So, when you guys were done with the church, you drove around for a little while, siphoning gas from random vehicles and searching for a house suitable for the night. He settled on a little blue house, with a fenced in front and back yard. He reasoned the fencing was good added protection.  Plus, the windows looked to be in tact and overall the place looked untouched.

        There weren't any walkers inside, but there also wasn't any food. There was, however, running water. Whoever these people were, they ran their house off filtered rain water. 

        While Daryl was working on blocking all the exits off with furniture and nailing blankets over the windows so nothing could see inside, you opted for a shower. It wasn't hot since the house had no power, but damn was it nice to feel clean. Well, as clean as you could get with no soap, anyways. The towels were all dusty, so you drip dried when you got out. When you were dry enough you slid into the extra outfit you packed, and found your way back out to Daryl. He had the house as safe as he could get it by then.

        "All yours." You told him.

        "Nah." He shrugged.

        "Uh, you smell like a biohazard." You insisted. He glared.

        "Yeah, shoulda smelled yourself. By day two in that tree house you were chokin' flies." He shot back.

        "And, would ya look at that, I showered!" You sneered. He huffed a little breathy laugh and shook his head as he grabbed his bag and disappeared to the shower.

        You were hungry, so you decided to light the gas stove and heat up a can of Campbell's chunky beef stew for the two of you to share. By the time it was done, he was out, so the two of you ate in silence before tossing the emtpy can and borrowed spoon in the sink.

        "It's not even dark yet." You commented.

        "Yeah. Best to get to bed early. We can head out first thing, make it back home by tomorrow night." He reasoned.

        "Guess so." You agreed.

        "Guess? You don't wanna get back?" He questioned.

        "And give up our quality bonding time?" You joked. He scoffed and shook his head. Damn, you were a smartass. 

        "'S that what ya call it?"

        "Yup. What else would it be?"

        "Thought we were stranded on an island." He recalled.

        "Oh, that. No, I was just hungry." You shrugged. "Never take me seriously when I'm hungry. I become a different person, really."

        He rolled his eyes a little. "Still wanna play that game?" He asked.

        "What game?"

        "Twenty questions."

        "Twenty-one questions, Dixon." You corrected. "And sure. You go first."

        "Alright." He nodded, pondering for a moment. He had a million questions he could ask, but somehow they felt too personal. Did you miss Shane? Were you ready to move on? Did you like him, or were you just a tease? Why did you always pick on him? Was it the same reason he always picked at you and gave you shit? "How ya like the shoes?"

        "They're good." You nodded. "I love them. Thanks again. Uh.." You thought for a second. "How long do you wanna grow your hair out?"

        "I dunno." He shrugged. "What'd ya like to do before the world went to shit?"

        "Hmm... Paint, listen to music, go go out and eat my weight in food from little hole in the wall restaurants." You recalled. "What kind of music do you like?"

        "Whatever was on the radio." He said. "You plan on movin' on?"

        That was an okay question to ask, right? He broke the ice pretty well, he thought, with the rapid fire Q&A flying between the two of you. He realized maybe not, though, because you seemed to really take your time with that one.

        "Don't see why not." You finally said. "I mean, he would, right? As long as I thought I found someone who would treat me right... Are you seeing anyone right now?"

        You asked the question so casually but it choked him up. He felt so naked, like a chicken with all its feathers plucked off one by one.

        "No." He cleared his throat. "Nah."

        Uncomfortable silence blanketed over the two of you.

        "Your turn." You reminded him.

        "Oh. Are you?"

        "Am I..?"

        "Seein' anyone." He clarified. You giggled a little.

        "No. But I have met someone. Real nice guy, actually. He gets me gifts and teases the hell out of me,  but I think he'd do just about anything for me." You smiled to yourself. He had to know you were talking about him, right? Wrong. He was clueless. Right over his head. He admittedly felt sad to hear it. Who was this guy? He kind of sounded like everything Daryl tried to be for you. "Do you like anyone?" You asked, taking him out of his swirling thoughts.

        "Nah." He shrugged. A lie, but everything he had tried to work up to was washed away when you said you met someone.

        "Oh." You said, slight sadness hinting in your voice. "Your turn." You reminded him again.

        "Who's the guy?" He asked.

        "Oh, you don't know him." You waved him off. If you could slap yourself, your would. What kind of lie was that? He knew everyone. There were literally less than ten of you if you didn't count the baby. 

        "Oh? Some kind o' pen or somethin'?" He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Then it hit him; you were talking about him. That's why it sounded like everything Daryl tried to be for you, because it was him. "Oh." He blurted quietly.

        Your face felt like it drained of blood completely. Well, way to completely humiliate yourself around the only real friend you had, huh?

        "You okay?" He asked.

        "Yeah." You nodded, forcing a smile, but your voice was sort of meek and squeaky. You shook it off, reminding yourself that you were, in fact, not the type to falter under pressure. This would be no different. So what if you liked him and he didn't feel the same? You could get past that. It was nothing--

        "(Y/N)." He snapped you out of your thoughts. 

        "Hmm?"

        "You asked if I like someone..." He trailed as he shifted uncomfortably.

        "Yeah?"

        "It's just -- I do, but... How do I know she likes me too?" 

        He didn't make eye contact as he asked. In fact, he looked quite literally everywhere except at you.

        "You just... ask. And if you don't wanna ask... Make your move." You shrugged.

        "Right." He nodded.

        Well, that conversation had gotten awkward enough for you, so you figured that was a good place to end it. You cleared your throat and stood up.

        "I'm gonna go choose a bed." You announced.

        You went to walk past where he sat on the couch but he stood up abruptly and cut you off.

        You looked up at him with confusion. What did he want? Your nerves were eating away at you and you were honestly pretty tired. You shifted your weight anxiously.

        "Daryl--" You went to complain about it but he had other plans. He gripped your arms firmly and smashed his face into yours. Like, actually smashed. It hurt. "Ow." You mumbled as you rubbed over your mouth. He gulped. It was supposed to be a kiss. Was he always so clumsy?

        "Sorry, I--"

        "Were you trying to kiss me?" You asked. He just stared at you. "'Cause, I gotta tell ya,you could really work on your technique." You smirked. 

        When he remained frozen, you began to feel bad for teasing him. He clearly had no idea what to do now. His hands were even still rested on your arms.

        "Here, let me show you." You whispered. You reached up for his face, his hands sliding softly off of your arms. When your palms found his checks,you tippy-toed up a couple of inches, and slowly leaned in, placing your lips softly on his. It wasn't a long, rhythmic kind of kiss. It was just simple and soft, and it lasted just a few seconds longer than a quick peck-and-go.

        His eyes were still closed when you pulled back, a tiny smile slowly spreading over your lips. When his eyes opened,he looked disappointed, like he was waiting for more. 

        He leaned down slowly, a little unsure. He was waiting for you to stop him, but you didn't. You pushed yourself back up on your toes o close the gap and snaked your arms around his neck. This time, it was deeper. You slowly moved your lips, allowing him to find the rhythm and synchronise. When he felt a little more confident, his hands gripped your hips and he quickened the pace.

        Slowly, he eased you down onto the couch. You gladly followed his lead. When you were comfortably seated, his lips peeled away and his kisses found their way down from your cheek to your neck to your collarbone. Oh, this was going to get good.

A/N: next part will be spicy ;)

Masterlist || Taglist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader

((I didn't use the tags in all the one shots I just transferred cause I didn't wanna hit you guys with like 348827502720 notifications in one day))

[sergeifyodorov]

Your post of all the first overalls to girl interrupted actively makes me feel crazy. Do you have a ranking of the most compelling first overalls?

cody's list of most compelling (active) (to me) first overalls

21. aaron ekblad (2014.) i don't care for the florida panthers

20. alexis lafreniere (2020). his strongest narrative juices are a) the bust thing (he was a covid baby, it takes time) and b) maybe him also going to rimouski like sid, if you really wanted to pull it out like that. but the two of them have little otherwise connection, so not really

19. owen power (2021) this is a list ranked by compellingness and not cutieness or who i would want to provide most with feminizing hrt against their will

18. nico hischier (2017) even some of the least compelling 1oas are still quite interesting IMHO -- nico is the highest ever drafted swiss player + a very young captain on a basement team + a CHL import. all of which *are* juicy. he just lacks... i don't know, a little extra je ne sais quoi

17. macklin celebrini (2024) invoking the power of "He Literally Just Got Here" for this one. the daddy issues are a powerful offset though

16. ryan nugent-hopkins (2011). the power of the longest-tenured member of a team is quite something. earns points for not being an upper middle class rich boy either

15. nathan mackinnon (2013). controversial to put him so low i know but in my genuine and honest opinion he's way more interesting as a Character than a Part Of The Narrative. crucial divide here. i'm about to talk about slaf's personality making him interesting narratively but they do want their good canadian boys to shut up and take it and nate doesn't rebel against that. all he wants to do is win (accomplished) and fuck sidcros (negligible)

14. juraj slafkofsky (2022) just barely edges out the nuge by virtue of a) the whole First Slovak thing (see nico) and b) his new and upcoming beef with the slovak federation??? what's all that about because THAT'S juice. THAT'S spark. slaf's great because not only are his little circumstances compelling but he's also got such a Personality to him. his little rockstar attitude. his little braces. I will show him where is Slovakia. yessss girl

13. rasmus dahlin (2018). im a dahlin attention payer so he's probably higher than he "should" be but CAPTAIN OF THE BUFFALO SABRES I AM SO SORRY.

12. erik johnson (2006) hugely fascinated by his fall from grace via golf cart, which is not a route most people take. and then of course he was a crucial emotional crux of the avs up until their 2022 run and in my belief a much more important part of their fall from grace post-run than whatever landeskog is doing. and of course any flyer is relevant by nature

11. jack hughes (2019) you cannot deny the hughes are interesting narratively because they are important. he's not as interesting or as important as quinn though so obviously not as high on the list as he might have otherwise been

10. taylor hall (2010) actually super interesting because he has, throughout his entire career, been on one (1) good team (the 2022-23 boston bruins). he has a hart trophy!!! you guys know he has a fucking hart trophy right???? while they were drafting davo et al, he was an oiler. while they were drafting nico, he was a devil, while they were drafting owen, he was a sabre, and when they drafted connor bedard he was a blackhawk. always the bridesmaid, never the bride

9. steven stamkos (2008). there's always something to be said for waiting a long time to get what you want. and then once that goal's been accomplished, they throw you out.

8. connor bedard (2023) Let's Get Generational With It

7. john tavares (2009) brief let's un-get generational with it to talk about mr magic amulet breaking TWO entire playoff round curses as captain, twice. about him choosing toronto. about Him

6. auston matthews (2016) what if you were a vain shy arizona boy who wanted nothing more than to be a star and then they gave it to you and then you immediately had to learn that it's not nearly as good as you thought it was going to be. and you were actually kind of gay the whole time (im biased. this is cody sergeifyodorov's immense toronto bias. be normal)

5. patrick kane (2007)

4. marc-andre fleury (2003) the whole saga of him in pittsburgh AND the whole saga of him in vegas AND the whole saga of him in minnesota (and the brief intermission when he was in chicago) are all massive narrative moments of their own, but to have all of them? to be a goaltender that lucky and that loved for that long? it's not done. it will never be done again.

3. connor mcdavid (2015) I Love It When The Ginger Man Suffers

2. alexander ovechkin (2004) you know i could write essays on ovi. i could write dissertations. people have already done so -- i would not be the first and will not be the last if i join their ranks. i could take about the goals and the record chase. i could talk about the way he's been juxtaposed against the guy who you really should have known going in was going to be number one for his whole career. i could talk about the hunt for 2018, and the long, long time they said he was useless, no matter the record. but i will say after me. after me, i give it to you, baby.

sidney crosby (2005). obviously

[octuscle]

Allez les bleus

Frederique, Marcel and Luc had to go to Berlin on business. They were all really looking forward to the trip. Although there was a lot to do - the three of them were assisting a French bank with the takeover of a German start-up by a French tech group - they were spending a few days without their wives and children. Frederique's children were already at university, which made the other two, whose children were still of primary school and children's card age, quite envious.

After landing in Berlin, there was a culture shock. None of them were soccer fans. They all played tennis or golf, Marcel had been quite a successful lacrosse player until he had to give up the sport two years ago at the age of 30 due to a knee injury. They hadn't realized that the European Football Championship was being held in Germany. The airport was decorated with UEFA posters, fans from all over the world were walking through the terminal, the cab rank was empty and the three of them had to take the S-Bahn into the city center.

They were surrounded by cheerful fans. Most of them were no longer sober. But all in a good mood. In their suits with their laptop bags and wheeled suitcases, the three of them were absolute strangers on the train. Even though the atmosphere was good, they were annoyed. They had already had a long day at work before they boarded the plane. They had actually been looking forward to a quiet evening. And not an odyssey on a crowded train.

The next shock came when they arrived at their hotel. It wasn't really a hotel. More like a bed and breakfast. In the middle of Berlin's gay district. The streets were not only decorated with the flags of the nations taking part in the European Championships, but also with rainbow flags. The pubs in the area mostly had black-taped windows and were obviously aimed at a fetish clientele. But even here, there were screens outside, people drinking beer and watching a football match. The atmosphere was great. But the three of them had imagined something different. This wasn't the Sofitel they usually stayed at. Whoever had booked this hotel would be ready for a rant. But now the three of them just wanted to go to bed. Looking for something to eat here for dinner was too exhausting for them at this time of night. They agreed on that. And drinking a beer on the street? Not on your life!

When Luc arrived in his room, he had to grin. Yes, this really wasn't what he was used to. But he'd never had a room with a sling in it either. In addition to the usual things, the bathroom also contained lubricant and condoms. Luc sent a picture to the WhatsApp group he had with Frederique and Marcel. Marcel replied with a picture of an Andreas cross. And Frederique sent a picture of a flyer that had been lying on his pillow:

"Yes, I got that too," wrote Marcel. Obviously a voucher for a beer in a pub down the street. "So, are you up for it?" "Tomorrow," Frederique replied. "I'm just too tired." The three of them wished each other a good night. Marcel put the contents of his suitcase in the cupboard. And there were soccer shorts and a jersey in the wardrobe. With a note saying "Welcome to UEFA Euro 2024" on it. "If you want to have fun, help yourself!". Marcel thought about it. He had googled that Spain were playing Italy today. Maybe not a bad game… He tried out the outfit. It looked a bit silly with his Hogan sneakers. It was also a bit tight and the pants were really short. But now to go downstairs, have a beer and watch the second half? Why not?

The atmosphere was great. The beer tasted better than expected. The second one too. And after the third, he had to piss. The pub's toilet was tiled in black. The lighting with black light was more than dim. Marcel could hear from the stalls that men were clearly having sex there. He just grinned. He was having fun. He took his cock out of his soccer shorts to pee. And before he knew it, a clean-shaven skinhead was kneeling in front of him and greedily opening his mouth. Shit, what the hell? thought Marcel and pissed in his open face. And then had his cock sucked.

When Marc came into the breakfast room the next morning, his two French colleagues were already sitting at the table. As usual, they were both as fit as a fiddle. Marc felt a little uncomfortable in his jeans and tight-fitting T-shirt, which showed off his body and tattoos to good effect. Hehehehehe, he thought. But these two will hardly feel comfortable in a gay guesthouse. And shit, he worked for a fintech start-up. That was a different world to the venerable BNP. The three of them went through the agenda again before leaving for Marc's employer. Marc was a developer and web designer. Numbers were not necessarily his world. But because he spoke fluent French, he had been assigned to look after the two investment bankers. It didn't matter, Frederique in particular was a hot DILF. There were worse fates… A ten-hour day, for example. Marc knew that they probably wouldn't be back at the boarding house before 9 pm. Then France played the Netherlands. The top match of the day. Surely the two of them would want to see that.

It was 9.10 p.m. when Marc was finally back in his room. He hurriedly put on his soccer outfit. He loved the knee-length soccer socks. They accentuated his shapely calves perfectly. The three of them had a date downstairs on the street. Marc had organized a high table in his local pub almost directly in front of the screen. He ordered three beers and waited. Damn it, Frederique had actually put on the outfit provided by the guesthouse. As Marc had suspected, he was in really good shape. Perhaps too well for the jersey that was stretching dangerously across Frederique's chest. Luc had only taken off his jacket and was still in his office outfit. He really wasn't interested in soccer at all. He took his beer from the table and walked a few steps away from the bar so that he could talk to his wife and children on the phone without being disturbed.

Frederique was in a good mood. He had drunk three beers by the half-time break. Marc hadn't managed that. And so he followed Frederique to the toilet at some point to relieve the pressure on his bladder. With a bit of luck, the horny skinhead from last night would be back. He loved it when a hot guy had Marc's piss flowing out of the corner of his mouth. When he arrived downstairs at the toilets, he could already see his piss face. Marc got ready. And grinned all over his face. That was definitely Frederique fucking a Dutch fan in one of the toilet cubicles.

When Fred and Marc came to breakfast together, Luc barely raised an eyebrow. He didn't care that they were both dressed far too casually for his taste. He wasn't a start-up hipster. He was just providing them with the fresh money they needed to expand. And Luc and his employer were making a good profit. No, he raised an eyebrow because they both came out of Marc's room. Fred almost naked, in just his soccer shorts. He disappeared straight back into his own room, only to sit down at the breakfast table a few minutes later, dressed more or less appropriately. Luc sighed and turned his attention back to the messages on his cell phone.

Fred and Marc were used to having to work on Saturday. They liked that about their job. Work hard, party hard. And with the new work lifestyle, the boundaries between work and leisure, between colleagues and friends, were becoming increasingly blurred anyway. If this had the effect of Fred shagging Marc in the loo in between, neither of them complained. But today they urged Luc to finish work reasonably on time. They definitely wanted to watch the Turkey-Portugal game. It was interesting from a footballing point of view, but above all they were looking forward to the hot Turkish fans. Hairy, muscular… Especially Marc's taste. But Frederique didn't mind fucking a hot, hairy ass either. If necessary, he sucked a circumcised cock first. Shit, he loves the Turks for the fact that they always keep their balls and cocks slick. Luc wasn't at the reception at 5:30 pm as arranged. When Fred knocked on his door, he opened it. On the phone. Still in his suit. Fred went to the wardrobe and pulled out the soccer outfit. "Come on, loosen up for once. It's Saturday night!" Luc smiled painfully. He pulled the door shut. And after a few minutes, still on the phone, he stepped out of his room in his soccer outfit. The two of them dragged him down to the street, Marc organized three beers and the party could begin.

Shit, some of those footballers are really fucking hot, Luc kept thinking to himself. No wonder he kept building a clearly visible tent in his shiny shorts. One of the Portuguese fans, a small but damn muscular guy, naked except for his boots and leather chaps, but with a Portuguese flag draped around his shoulders, noticed this more than clearly. The two of them shared a beer. And another. The Portuguese asked Luc if he had a room upstairs in the guesthouse, he had seen him come out of the door earlier. Luc licked his lips and nodded. Neither of them noticed how the game ended. By the time the final whistle blew, Luc was already tied to the St. Andrew's cross in his room.

"Mates, where are we watching the game? Here in the Bermuda Triangle or on the fan mile?" With his Germany jersey, it was clear what Luke's preference was. Marc and Fred would have preferred to stay here in their favorite pub, where they were drinking themselves into shape on this Sunday morning. The party and the sex before and after were more important to them. But Luke was a hardcore soccer fan. For him, it was a matter of honor to watch the game in front of the Brandenburg Gate. Marc and Fred took a sip of beer and sighed. "Okay, fan mile then," Marc moaned. "OMG, like if we can catch that Albania vs Spain match at our spot again, it'd be so lit! I ran into some seriously fire Albanians in the restroom yesterday, no joke." The three of them clinked glasses and laughed. The European Championship was great!

Pics by @ki-kink

[piratefishmama]

Vibe Check - Oneshot

Eddie would never claim to enjoy his job. It’d be far too strange for Eddie Munson to admit to enjoying a government based job but there was something fundamentally exciting about getting to see all the little gizmos and random shit that people tried to take onto aeroplanes with them.

Of course there was the usual, bottles of liquid over a certain amount, tiny scissors or nail clippers from grooming sets that they absolutely had no idea weren’t allowed on a plane. There were the fun days with the drugs, the weird days with bagged ashes for scattering purposes that looked like it could conceal drugs and thus had to be tested. Nothing like telling a family you had to test grandma for concealed cocaine cause the computer said no.

There were the shared looks between co-workers when they spotted a dipshit in line, be nice to your fellow flyers folks, the TSA might grab you for a full cavity check for funsies if you don’t!

But then, then, you’d have those people. The people who everyone would automatically judge by their cover because the cover was all they had. Eddie didn’t usually do that, he’d often stick with the vibes and let his co-workers base their hunches on looks, it worked for Eddie nine times out of ten but today..

Today he was off his game a little. The vibe check on this one guy was coming back ?????

Call a lawyer the guy looked like every suburban mothers' wet dream, the kind of guy who wore polo’s and sweater vests, and the type to have a yacht and actually go to the clubs for it on the regular, probably had a membership to his father’s golf club that he actually used. Maybe had a fancy corner office job in Indy, he looked like the corner office type. But the vibe check came back saying NAY, believing it on this particular occasion seemed like a stupid thing to do.

Like sure he was stunning, literally, just a beautiful specimen of a human being, which Eddie would quietly mourn never seeing again, but he looked so straight laced that even holding hands might be a stretch for him.

So Eddie was reduced to book cover judgements because the vibes were wonk. No big deal.

The guy was in his line, he didn’t look nervous or uncomfortable, taking his watch off, putting it into a tray, a ring not on his wedding ring finger went in, his members only jacket, his belt, and shoes, into a second went his phone and a small tablet plus their chargers. And into another went the carry on bag, he was prepared. He flew often enough to know about separating things into their own trays.

Probably some high-level business exec. He looked the type.

“Through here sir” his co-worker directed waving him through, the tray containing the guys carry-on was last, so he was through the detector clean as a whistle before Eddie had seen what was in his case.

Probably a good thing because Eddie nearly choked on his own saliva when that case rolled through.

Holy shit.

“Uhm” he squeaked. He. A grown man. Squeaked. He’d deny that later, even if his currently heated complexion was giving him away.

That... that was an entire carry on full of sex toys. What. The fuck. Was that a whip held together by handcuffs?

Maybe the vibes hadn’t let him down after all. His co-worker walked over, Mr Sex Pest in disguise cast them a raised brow.

“Holy shit...I’ll uhm ill just—”

“No the fuck you won’t” Eddie was up, scrambling around him after flagging the bag for checks. “I got this.” He had this. He was already in front of Sweater Vest before his partner could stop him from making the potentially career ending move of approaching the sneakiest sex loony ever with interest in mind. Sweater Vest could easily complain! Eddie had no real reason to flag it, they were all contained, no bottles, no concerning substances, just toys.

“Problem, sir?” Oh boy the airport was hot. Sweater Vest had moles, cute little moles, moving on.

“Just a few checks regarding the contents of your carry on.” Gloves on, he half expected the guy to try and stop him to save face, but no, he stood there with a raised brow and an amused little curl of a smile on his lips.

“Go ahead.” Zips open and holy shit. It was like Eddie had stepped into the back room of a sex shop. Floggers, a whip, plugs, vibes, clamps, shibari ropes, dildos, both fluffy and actually decent handcuffs, why have two pairs one shit and one not? They were all so neatly organised too, the man was tidy. Was that a sounding rod?!

Could be a creep, could be a creep, coooould be a creep.

“So...”

“So... sir?” Sweater vest seemed to be challenging him. Fine, he could play ball.

“Any liquids in here that I need to know about? Drinks? Lotion? Industrial sized bottle of lube?” At least Sweater Vest laughed. A surprised little giggle snort of laughter that sounded beautiful. Eddie couldn’t help but smile.

“Nope, that’d be in the checked case.” Oooh Sweater Vest had a sense of humour “sorry I know it looks a little whacky, I’m a panel runner at the BDSM convention in Illinois this weekend, i know i'm headed in early but panel runners have to get everything set up properly if they're there for the whole weekend.” Eddie’s eyes widened, holy shit the vibes WERE right, haha fuck you supervisor who called him arrogant when he claimed to just be able to tell with people. “These are for the demonstrations.”

“...Demonstrations, on...?” He had absolutely no right to ask these questions what so ever, his colleague was already probably planning on ratting him out, but while curiosity did indeed kill the cat, satisfaction brought it back!

“A friend, A willing member of the audience, a dummy, depends on the insurance the convention has, this one allows me to pick a very lucky member of the audience since my usual convention partner is in Hawaii on her honeymoon like a traitor.”

“So... you’re a uhm... a—” not okay not allowed big nope so very unprofessional he was so fired.

“Not a Dominant, no. I’m a Submissive, both professionally and personally” didn’t need to tell him the personally bit, didn’t need to tell him that at all but he did, it was there, Sweater vest seemed pretty happy about it being out there too “I co-own an adult shop in Indy, one of the best for this kind of stuff but I have plenty of recommendations if you're not interested in my shop, here,” Sweater Vest pulled a gods honest business card out of a small compartment in the case, which listed him as the managing director/owner of one of Eddie's favourite sex shops of all time, a shop he’d only ever ordered from online so he’d never seen the owners. They had an incredible BDSM range and also delivered discreetly, they were a privately owned small business run right out of Indianapolis, also on the card though, was an Only Fans account, holy shit. “That ok with you, sir?” Sweet Cheesus on toast, had his pants just shrunk?

Steve. Steve Harrington. God that was such a golf club guys name, Steve leaned forward onto his elbows at a slight bend, eyeing Eddie up like he wanted to eat him alive, any other situation, Eddie would have let him. He wanted to bend that little brat over his knee. He loved bratty subs.

“Illinois huh?” Eddie zipped the case right back up again, as if he’d actually checked anything. He hadn’t. “Was thinking of going to that one actually, more of a dominant myself though...” trying so hard to be nonchalant to the most beautiful and confident Submissive he’d ever seen in his life “this a beginners panel?”

Steve smiled, clearly not angered by this deeply unprofessional halt to his journey. “Beginner, intermediate, pro, it’s more new toy and prop range demonstrations and a Q&A mainly, a variety of folks usually attend so... no matter your experience level you should come, maybe I’ll even make you my lucky audience member.” Steve took that card back, just to make a show of slipping it into Eddies chest pocket, tapping it once for good luck. “Can I get to my gate now, sir? Or do I need to be detained? I’m sure a cavity search would be awfully entertaining for me...considering...”

He couldn’t not ask “Considering?” His throat felt so dry, where was a confiscated bottle of unopened soda when you needed it?

“There’s four plugs in there, I actually have five” he winked, he winked. “The fifth wouldn’t fit.”

“Fuck...” Eddie breathed, much to the man’s amusement. “You’re ah—you’re free to go” he couldn’t actually hold him there and his co-workers were already starting to glare at him.

Steve grinned broadly at him before moving to grab his things, calling out a cheery “see you this weekend!” before he was off, and Eddie was taking his break early to book the next flight out to Illinois.

[dogwittaablog]

Old pic of Nolpats in the middle of Tillie’s looking debatably hot…

[puhpandas]

GGY Week Day 2: Comfort

Gregory has to deal with his injury from trapping the mimic and everything else that comes with the experience after dealing with GGY and the Pizzaplex. His injury also took away one of his only escapes. Hurray.

Gregory didnt even get to finish his long, drawn out miserable groan before Vanessa opens the door to his room and comes inside.

He's still doing it when she shuts the door behind her and makes her way to his bed. He doesn't look away from his phone, which he's holding in his lap, even when she approaches.

She wordlessly ducks her head to look at what's on his screen, and when she gets a look at it, that's finally when he finishes.

He frowns, miserably looking at his phone screen. "The Soccer team seems to be having a great time without me."

It had been an impulsive decision one day at school (after he managed to get enrolled again) to join the team after he'd seen a flyer. It had made so much sense at the time. Gregory loved running, (and was very fast for his age), was good at kicking, although for the wrong reasons, and was very tired of being stuck inside with plenty of opportunities to remember everything terrible that's ever happened to him with no breaks.

Ness had been proud of him, that he'd taken a leap like that. Gregory knows how much Vanessa struggles with social interaction after Vanny. Gregory... he was afraid to join the team at first, not because of social anxiety, but for a completely different reason. Rab kept entering his mind, because the last time he made friends...

He... he had been tired of sitting around being nothing but afraid, though. So he did it anyway, and ignored all anxiety digging a hole in his stomach about Rab to try and prove himself wrong.

And it worked. He loved soccer, was great for his team, at least his teammates thought so, and was great with the other kids.

Besides school itself, it's one of the only things he has that gets him out. Out of everything. The house, his head, his funk... Its something important to him. It's a hobby that doesn't have an ulterior motive, like robotics does. He does that because hes good at it, likes it just fine, but also because Freddy needs a guy good with robots to give him the scheduled maintenance he needs to stay functional, and Gregory would sooner jump off the catwalks in Monty Golf than leave Freddy without that.

But soccer... he doesnt have an adult reason to be there. Its fun. He has friends there after so long of having none out of fear and a way to put all of his skills he learned for the wrong reasons to good use. He feels normal there. Like everything with Rab and Tony and Ellis and his parents can be pushed to the back of his mind to just. Have fun. Be a kid.

And now, he's stuck in bed.

It's a little harder to see with how the sunlight from his open blinds glares on his screen, but he gets it clear as day. The team sent him a Snap just to update him on how they're doing while Gregory is away. It's a picture of them on the field, uniforms dirty and cheeks scraped and smiles on their faces. He can feel the adrenaline and good kind of exhaustion through the screen, having experienced it.

Vanessa doesnt respond for a second, just nodding grimly and patting him on the leg. "Sorry to hear that." She says, all formal like she does. Then, "Would some ice cream make you feel better?"

Normally, he'd light up, but he hasnt felt it like that in a while. He nods anyway, a small smile on his face. "Of course."

She goes to the kitchen to make them some. While shes gone, he keeps staring at the picture, feeling the will to get back on the field so strongly but unable to.

When she comes back, it's with two big bowls of ice cream, one scoop for her, and three for Gregory. She knows him well. He takes it from her, once again not looking away from his phone.

She sits next to him on his double bed (one that Vanessa for some reason already had on hand in his room that looked like it hadn't been touched in years) and makes herself comfortable. He leans his head against the wall, his hair brushing up against stray peeling corners of drawings he has hung up.

He sighs through his nose, taking a bite of ice cream and looking through his friends Snap stories. It's all different pictures and point of views of happy faces and the soccer game.

Vanessa hums, looking over his shoulder and working away at her own ice cream. She swallows, then, "Hows your leg?"

Gregory frowns, looking at it. "Fine." He says, but he knows he should give Vanessa a better answer. "Okay, its... its healing good. I try to keep still, but it's hard. Especially because its itching all the time."

"...It doesn't hurt?" Vanessa asks after a second. Gregory can hear the worry in her tone, even though shes trying to hide it. He doesnt blame her. They'd both had worries about its severity when it had still been fresh.

An image of the bloody mess the wound had first been when he got it flashes in his mind, and he shoves it down just as quick. "No." He tells her honestly. "I mean. Besides the sore part... it seems fine."

Vanessa deflates ever so slightly next to him. He knows its relief; Its been this way for the past multiple weeks. Probably months by now. She smiles, although her eyes still look tired, and reaches over to lightly ruffle his hair. "That's good." She says. "Means you'll be able to get back to the field pretty soon."

He nods, but his heart must've not been in it, because then Vanessa is scrutinizing him. He keeps looking at his phone, sighing again. His brows furrow, and every time he sees that picture of the whole team, any will he has to get back on the field with his friends is snuffed out as quick as it comes. It's like he has a flame he's desperately kindling to keep alive, and then someone comes over and dumps a bucket of water on it. Its upsetting.

"How are you doing?" She then asks, nudging him.

Gregory jolts slightly, finally putting his phone down. He stares into his bowl of melting ice cream. "Um..."

He trails off, and Vanessa picks it back up. "Would you want to get back on the field if you could right now?"

Gregory gets taken off guard, gaping at Vanessa for a moment. She hit the nail right on the head. He shouldn't be suprised, at this point. She knows him better than himself, and same with him to her.

He sighs. "...No."

Gregory isnt looking at Vanessa, but can hear her spoon scraping against her bowl. "Why not?"

Gregory doesn't respond right away, just thinking about everything. "It--" He cuts himself off. "I... I'm not feeling it."

Vanessa doesn't respond, so Gregory keeps going. "What happened... it was really bad." He says. "Even if I didn't have this stupid injury, I dont think I'd just be able to..."

"To keep going with life like nothing happened?" Vanessa finishes for him. "I get it, Gregory. Okay? It was just like that for me when I was first freed."

A small bit of pride swells inside Gregory at hearing Vanessa able to talk about it so easily. She doesnt even stutter anymore. It's still not as easy for him. He looks over at her. "It was?"

She nods. "You and Freddy had time to adjust and process. But I..." She trails off, looking like shes remembering every bit. "I just had to keep going so I could make us money. I had to go back to work pretty quickly, and I just... wasnt ready for a routine yet."

Gregory frowns, fidgeting with the strap of his watch. "That sucks."

Vanessa nods. "Yeah." She agrees. "What you went through, Gregory... it's not just something you can brush past."

Gregory sighs through his nose, resignation souring his insides. Against his will, he feels his eyes burn. He thought he was done with this whole getting traumatized and healing stuff. He just wants it to be over. "...I know."

"What I mean is that it's okay to take some time." Vanessa tells him, setting a hand on his arm. "You may not want to, but forcing yourself is even worse than taking time away." She says. "Processing something enough to move past it takes time."

Gregory nods wordlessly, remembering going through regaining his memories on top of dealing with the Pizzaplex. It was awful. He'd just managed to get himself to reconsider hobbies he'd barely remembered having before everything Rab came rushing back, and then he hadn't wanted to anymore, having a whole new can of worms to deal with. A worse one.

He furrows his brows, his shoulders drooping. He doesn't want to do that again. Everything was going so good. He thought they'd finally moved past it.

And then that thing had to rear its ugly head, and Gregory had to use himself as bait just to trap it in a dark hole in the basement.

His leg twitches involuntarily, and he winces at how bad it really is. He forgets it, sometimes. How even though its healing, there'd been worries of lasting damage. How Gregory had just made friends and used his talents of running and fighting to his advantage to join a sport (which eased his worried of falling out of practice as well) and that could have been fully ripped away if his leg decided to heal wrong. (He wouldnt be able to run away anymore.)

How it wasnt an easy wound to explain to the hospital. How it had been made by an eight foot tall monster with big claws and a grudge against him who'd managed to reach a bit too far into a vent a bit too long, too long for Gregory to make it out. How it'd been all his worst nightmares and the cause of everything horrible that's ever happened to him and his family in one big package with a pretty bow and it had bored into him with its red eyes and its limbs had been too long and it'd gotten ahold of his leg and dug its claws into his flesh and ripped and he was sure he was going to die--

He snaps out of it, just barely managing to realize he was spiraling before it happened. He breaths slowly, realizing it had started to get erratic. He fidgets with his watch strap, keeping his gaze away from Vanessa.

Vanessa saw. She clearly did, or she wouldn't be looking at him all worried like she is right now. She doesnt need to say anything. He knows that what just happened alone is proof that he needs to take time off to process. No matter how miserable it makes him that this is happening again when he'd just wanted to finally move on--

His body jerks, and to his horror, he can feel his throat close up and his eyes burn. He frowns deeply, trying to wipe at his face before any tears can fall. It's stupid. It's all stupid.

But before he can shove it completely down, Vanessa puts hers and his bowl onto his nightstand, and shifts her body. "None of that." She tells him, soft as silk. Before he can react, shes carefully gathering him in her arms in a hug.

Gregory tries really hard to not let that be the water that breaks the dam. He stubbornly, even though he doesnt move away from the hug, tries to keep the tears from spilling.

But eventually, it comes out.

He cries silently; that's always how it's been, but not motionlessly. His shoulders shake and jerk as tears slip past his eyelashes, and he hugs Vanessa back.

"I know it sucks." Vanessa tells him, not trying to baby him or shush him, because she knows he hates that. "That you have to keep going through this stuff over and over--" Her own voice gets choked up, and he can hear her swallow. "And I'm-- I'm sorry. But you cant let it get to you."

Gregory sniffs, nodding against her chest. He gets what she means. He cant let it get to him, as in he cant let that thing win. He cant let it ruin all that hes built for himself-- they've built for themselves because it's hard. It was hard before. It was really, really hard. Knowing that he killed all those people. That his parents are dead and his whole life was destroyed and his friend that he'd had to watch bond with not-him got killed thinking he was betrayed.

But he got past it. He got better and healed and was able to code without curling up into a ball and hyperventilating, and draw the nightmares he had to process them. It had taken time, but he was better.

He snakes an arm back to wipe at his eyes. This? Compared to Rab? This is nothing. That thing with its glowing eyes and its claws and its tunnel deep gashes in his leg that almost ruined something great in his life is nothing--

Okay, so maybe it isnt nothing. But its nothing he cant handle. Hes nothing if not stubborn, and he isnt going to let that thing take away something else. Scars or not.

"Thanks." Gregory mumbles into Vanessa's shirt. "I needed that."

"You'll get back onto the field someday." Vanessa tells him, a hand in his hair. "And your friends are gonna dogpile you when you return and you'll be able to run and score as many goals as you want."

Gregory nods, squeezing her tighter. "I'll just have to make tons of robots in robotics for now."

Vanessa chuckles, ruffling his hair. "Yeah, kid." She says. "Go on and pick up a fourth talent while you're at it, dont you."

The tears stop falling, and the tracks dry on his cheeks as he pushes against the hug, shoving at Vanessa playfully. "Its not my fault you're talentless. Don't be jealous."

She pushes back at him, careful of his healing lower half, a grin on her face. "Says the boy currently under the blanket I hand sewed for him."

Gregory laughs, shoving and pulling and pushing at Vanessa, and her back. He may not feel one hundred percent right now, but who knows how fast itll take him to heal. Theres nothing saying he wont be ready by the time his leg heals. Maybe he'll reach a new record.

Almost taking no effort, he shoves down the reminder of high scores and records being associated with Rab immediately. Even quicker, he moves past it.

ao3 link

[rocknrollsalad]

rating: mature cw: sex toys, growing up tags: steddie being difficult at Christmas, established relationship, sex toys, Eddie is obnoxious, misunderstandings?, multiple definitions of the word toys, Eddie plays santa word count: 1635

written for @steddiemas prompt "toys" it's so far past my bedtime but I wanted to get this in. I'll give it another read through tomorrow. so if you see a weird sentence, no you didn't lol

-

Today was the day. The day all Eddie’s hard work paid off and would crown him the winner of dating. Not that there could be such a prize but Eddie was going to win it today. More importantly, Steve was going to eat his words. All of them. And nothing else.

It was also Christmas but who cared about that? Not Eddie. Though the holiday was not just responsible for all of this but made it possible. It was nothing more than the date on the calendar when Eddie finally got Steve good.

A little more than a month ago, Eddie left out the Toys R Us flyer with a handful of things circled, right on the coffee table. There for Steve to see. When he didn’t, Eddie did the grown-up thing and handed Steve the flyer. “Here are some things you could get me for Christmas that would make me incredibly happy. Obviously, go off book some but if you need ideas, Star Wars toys.”

Steve came back with the horrible nonsense about how they weren’t children and they didn’t need toys for Christmas. As if they hadn’t both gone into KB Toys together, bought something for Dustin’s birthday, and walked out with twice as much for themselves.

So naturally Eddie returned the snobbery. The upturned nose and posh accent were so frequently used to mock Steve but rarely to his face. Eddie wielded it expertly to talk about how they were adults now and he would only accept boring, grown up gifts. Not a trace of fun would be had this holiday! Fun is for children.

Of course, Steve backpedaled and tried to say he didn’t say that but to Eddie, there was no difference between “You can’t have Darth Vader’s lightsaber” and “We should buy each other kitchen towels”.

It was a fate Eddie could have accepted. They were adults but that wasn’t who he was. In fact, he hoped he was in his forties still circling things in the Toys R Us mega catalog. He also hoped Steve would get on board with that. It wasn’t going to be any fun only buying him sensible gifts. A lightsaber was only as fun as who you fought with it.

So, Eddie hatched a plan. A boring, adult plan with absolutely no toys. To save Steve from himself but also save Eddie a little too.

Now it was Christmas morning and everything Eddie had planned and carefully orchestrated (and kept quiet) was about to pay off. Steve likely wasn’t going to even remember the conversation but he’d remember this lesson for the rest of his life. Eddie was sure of it.

Under their tree were mountains of gifts. Some were for later when friends came over and celebrated, a few would have to wait a few more days because not everyone could get away from obligations on the day. And, of course, there were little piles for Steve and Eddie, from each other.

Tucked in the back was the punchline to all of this, about seven gifts all marked for Eddie. From Santa. Whether or not Steve had noticed them, Eddie wasn’t sure. He hadn’t said anything but that didn’t mean much. Either way, Eddie had to hold it together for another ten minutes.

Steve sat on the floor and Eddie pushed box after box at him. He unwrapped socks, two ugly ass ties, expensive coffee, golf tees, a frying pan, new canisters for dried goods (he actually wanted those), and a bottle of cologne in a very normal bottle even though Eddie had to pass up one shaped like a tiger to buy that.

There was barely a comment, hardly a reaction, and Eddie thought maybe Steve was hip to the plan. All of those things were bought to be incredibly boring and adult. None of them were needed, really, except the canisters and maybe the socks. But Steve didn’t look disappointed.

He unwrapped the last few and got some books about planes, a screwdriver set, and a scarf with matching earmuffs. Again, the last one could be used but it shouldn’t be what they were buying each other. Each purchase had hurt Eddie’s soul more than the one before but Steve took it all on the chin and started pushing packages at Eddie.

They were a decent mix of things Eddie needed and things he wanted. Yeah, he got socks too but he didn’t have a single pair without holes, they were so necessary. Not to mention socks were a pretty essential Christmas present. Eddie bought Wayne socks this year and assumed the favor would be returned.

Some of the circled toys made it under the tree and Steve even went off book and bought a couple of buckets of Legos as a “for us” gift. Which was more exciting than Eddie wanted to admit. He was almost willing to ignore everything he’d so carefully set up to dump the tubs out and build with Steve.

Tee shirts and an electric toothbrush, bits to improve their home stereo, and a comfy new blanket, Steve had balanced the adult Christmas Eddie didn’t want to have perfectly with the childlike one he was clinging to.

Eddie sat wrapped in his new coat, blanket over his legs, and looked over a box as he debated opening it, nearly forgetting all the presents that still bore his name. Steve got up and got them coffee before he took the bait that Eddie wasn’t even dangling anymore.

“So what’s the deal with all those?”

“Hmm?”

“There’s a whole bunch of gifts there and they all have your name on them, in your writing,” Steve pushed his glasses up. His favorite way to act disinterested and a little better than the situation. A simple gesture Eddie hated how much he loved.

“That’s not my handwriting,” Eddie scoffed, putting his toy aside to “investigate” the packages. “Oooo, it says they’re from Santa. You probably thought we were too old to get presents from him. Probably why none have your name on them.”

“Oh my god. Is that–is this all–” Steve couldn’t finish, he just waved his hand in front of him to tell Eddie to get on with this show.

A little disappointing but Eddie was a performer at heart, even if the crowd was throwing tomatoes, they were still there and watching. So he picked up a small box, the exact last place he’d start if he didn’t know what was in every one.

Opening it with feral enthusiasm he hadn’t shown any other gift, Eddie sat there looking into a box and preventing Steve from seeing the contents. He used the surprised face he’d practiced and finally showed it off. “How did Santa know I needed a new cock ring?” Eddie said with phony shock.

“I’d guess because of all that sees you when you’re sleeping stuff,” Steve deadpanned.

Okay, okay. It was not the reaction Eddie was hoping for, but he was overselling it a bit, and he knew it. It was Christmas magic or something. He was really too happy with what he had to make this point anymore, especially because Steve did buy toys.

Eddie could have backtracked, apologized, and explained himself but he also knew what fun was left under the tree. They weren’t going to care why it was bought for the house come tomorrow. Still, Eddie toned it down a bit and opened the other packages.

There was rope, videos, lingerie, lube, and a couple of dildos, he’d dropped a lot of money at the adult store to prove toys weren’t just for kids. It was too much of a good thing standing in there with disposable, gift-giving money, and looking at it now, Eddie almost felt like he’d overdone it.

“I see why Santa didn’t bring you anything,” Eddie said as he finished marveling over the restraints he’d wanted for a while now. Never mind that he knew they were in the box, they were finally his in a way he could talk about.

“Is all of this because I said I wouldn’t buy you any toys?

“I don’t know, Steven, I’m not Santa Claus. I could never eat that many cookies and reindeer notoriously hate me.”

“Okay, sure. Not even going to ask about that. I did get you the toys though.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know that.”

“And…more importantly. No place with a giraffe mascot sells these sorts of toys.”

“Now we don’t know that and it would be kind of hilarious if someone did in that clearly-not-getting-a-copyright-lawsuit sort of way.”

Steve chuckled but didn’t give any more of a reaction.

Sitting in his own failed joke, Eddie wasn’t sure what to do so he waited the silence out. Watched Steve to see what he was thinking. He wasn’t giving away much though and that felt like a bad sign. Eddie might have ruined Christmas. Shit.

“So I got boring gifts because adults get boring things?” Steve finally asked.

Eddie nodded.

“And Santa brought you all these toys as a sort of punishment for me because those are both toys and not boring?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Right,” Steve licked his lips and crossed his arms over his chest. After a second he leaned closer to Eddie. “So I don’t think we’re going to be using any of those until, at least, Valentine's Day. We’ll put them in a nice box and put them in the closet.”

Eddie looked down at the boxes, all the things he wanted, the things they needed to replace, everything he’d waited weeks to play with and it was being taken from him.

“I think that’s a suitable punishment,” Steve said in a voice that worked on Eddie better than anything in the boxes around him. All he could do was nod. Accept his punishment.

[goatderman]

making the wild life groups into competing amusement/entertainment groups with complex work relationships.

Gem and Joel run Fast Family Funtime, a go-kart track with a small horse-turned- kiddie farm. They host a yearly car show

The Three Towers have a legal battle with the nearby Two Towers. The Three Towers - tuff guys- are a legoland-like park with one ride and mostly a large park meant to be built in and around.

The Two Towers, meanwhile are a small Aquatic zoo with an observation tower, kiddie rides, and a drop tower ride. They attend the yearly car show

BAM!land Amusement is known for its Alpine coaster with a small aviary and mini golf for anyone not there for the coaster.

The Creaking Woods is a seasonal Haunted woods amusement park eith a maze, corn cannons, a haunted mansion and typical fair attractions and food.

Most of the year however he travels with the Giant Great Grand Gallary Circus, where they travel from place to place and cause chaos as they go witb jester and backup flyer pearl, main flier scott, base and back up base cleo and bigb, and concessions/legal work/ supplier and all around set up-er impulse

the spanners have an observation tower, bungee jump and zipline and are being investigated after two employees died from falls.

theres lots of city politics where they have to be polite and underhanded and scar wins the mayors office before being impeached in an unfair trial. most of the circus (pearl) is running from tax fraud