#The Wild Ones 1982

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

THE PUNK/ROCK CROSSOVER EVENT OF '82.

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on the late, great Pete Way (bassist for U.F.O., WAYSTED, & FASTWAY) and Micky Geggus (guitarist/co-founder of COCKNEY REJECTS), from the July 24, 1982 issue of "SOUNDS" UK musical publication. Pete Way (1950-2020) notably produced the Rejects' fourth studio album, "The Wild Ones" in 1982. 📸: Ross Halfin.

BONUS PIC: Geggus and Phil Mogg (vocalist of U.F.O.), c. 1982, also taken during "The Wild Ones" era. 📸: ❓

Sources: www.picuki.com/media/3248349496432839653 & Facebook (Oi! The Archives).

[fights4users]

Thinking about them again your honor.

It’s about how Lora/Yori is always the guide, always knows just where to go and what to do and how Alan/Tron happily go along with it. They trust she knows best (they’re also a total sap about her)

It’s the “if I’m not holding your hand right now I’ll explode”. They’re so touchy and my heart can’t take it? Lora/Yori has a tendency to cling to his arm, press herself into his shoulder and it’s absolutely everything.

Also no one talks about how funny the arcade scene is, Lora is just giggling and dragging him along as Alan is going through increasing stages of ‘oh my god what have I got myself into- what is this guy’ — this arcade serves all ages and demographics and somehow he still sticks out! In this case it’s a reverse where Lora is the one to ‘protect’ him and I’m going to loose it.

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

The Timmverse is wild because Bruce, Clark and John are all in their 40's. Shay is mid 30's. J'ohn is... Idk he was frozen? So he's old af. Meanwhile, Wally was 20 and Diana WAS A TEENAGER. No joke, Diana was only a few years older than Tim Drake in the Timmverse. I don't know who made that decision but I hate it and I chose to reject that reality and substitute my own.

Anyway I'm saying that because there absolutely were parental vibes from half the JL in JLU and kid vibes from Wally and Diana.

Just been rewatching Justice league Unlimited stuff, and their relationship is something

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Duran Duran - The Chauffeur 1982

Rio is the second studio album by English band Duran Duran, released in 1982. A new wave album with musical elements such as dance and synth-pop, Rio is mostly composed of fast, upbeat numbers, with a couple slower synthesiser-based ballads. The cover artwork, painted by Patrick Nagel and designed by Malcolm Garrett to resemble 1950s cigar packaging, is considered one of the greatest of all time.

Duran Duran shot music videos for many of the album's tracks, all of which helped spearhead the 1980s MTV revolution. Accompanied by three worldwide hit singles, Rio peaked at number 2 in the UK and remained in the chart for 110 weeks. Initially unsuccessful in the US, the album was remixed by Capitol Records to better match American radio at the time; the remixed album spent 129 weeks on the Billboard chart, reaching number 6.

Rio initially received mixed-to-negative reviews from critics, who commended the melodies but disparaged the lyrics. Retrospective reviewers consider Rio timeless and the band's best work, praising its instrumentation and band performances. With the album, Duran Duran were forerunners in the Second British Invasion of the 1980s, helping ensure the success of other English artists throughout the decade, and along with Culture Club and Spandau Ballet created a teen frenzy similar to Beatlemania during the first British Invasion of the 60s. Rio has since made appearances on best-of lists and has been reissued several times.

"The Chauffeur" was created on the spot in the studio. During downtime, Nick Rhodes retreated to an auxiliary studio room with Blauel, their tape operator, and crafted a track using keyboards, synthesisers, the sound of an ice cube cracking and a conversation about nature for extra effects. Simon Le Bon accompanied him with lyrics he'd originally written as poetry in 1978, and adding a melody on an ocarina. The final track features no contributions from the three other band members. An acoustic version (Blue Silver) was recorded without Rhodes, which appeared as a B-side to "Rio". The keyboardist later quipped, "I guess that was my punishment for have created an entirely electronic track."

"The Chauffeur" received a total of 64,6% yes votes! Previous Duran Duran polls: #21 "The Wild Boys".

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Ok So who is down for a bit of a wild Eddie Diaz is Freddie Mercury theory that is actually based in colour theory?!!

Yeah, yeah, I know that sounds insane but hear me out!

So Freddie superstar queer man of moustache wearing fame who also happened to sport a swept back floppy haired look in the 1980’s

Remind you of anyone??

Yeah - similar hairstyle and moustache! Keep that in mind as we continue!

Did you know that he never actually confirmed his sexuality publicly?

He hinted at it in the lyrics of Bo Rhap - which he wrote (and released with Queen) in 1975 when he was figuring things out. At that time he was in a relationship with a woman (Mary Austin - who he called his wife even though they never married. They remained best of friends and she was at his side when he died - he left her most of his estate) but had an affair with a man - and was also dealing with religious and childhood trauma (he was sent to catholic school and had a difficult upbringing at the hands of his mother). Bo Rhap was Freddie sorting through all of his feelings around his sexuality - the lyrics can be interpreted in many ways but the other members of Queen have spoken about its meaning being clear and personal to Freddie at the time. So ‘mama’ is a reference to the Virgin Mary and also to his mother - playing on both his childhood and religious traumas, saying he didn’t mean to make them cry is about not wanting to disappoint them but also about needing to be true to himself. ‘Just killed a man’ is about the death of his heterosexuality. I could go on (I can always write a post explaining the lyrics more fully if that is something that would interest anyone - Queen and Freddie were a hyperfixation of mine as a teenager!!) but I won’t in order to keep to my actual wild theory!

Now I wonder who that sounds like?? Childhoood trauma at the hands of his mother, catholic upbringing that didn’t fit with who he is, relationship with a woman who he loved but didn’t love the right way?? Yeah that sounds remarkably like a certain Edmundo Diaz if you ask me.

Now the moment Freddie actually ‘came out’ without actually coming out and essentially confirming he was not straight (there is debate about if he was gay or bi because he referred to himself as bi) was when he released ‘The Great Pretender’ in 1987 - when he was diagnosed with HIV/AIDS (he had been showing symptoms since 1982 but he also never actually confirmed his diagnosis until the day before his death in 1991) The reason this is significant in relation to Eddie DIaz is multi fold!

Firstly this was the moment Freddie chose to shave off his moustache as a symbol of not hiding who he was anymore and he never grew it back. So for Freddie Mercury his moustache was a literal mask and not a symbol of his queerness. The song is literally about coming out to the world and confessing and not hiding who you are and about wanting to fit in even though you are different. When we have had Episodes titled Masks, confessions, and have wannabes coming up - and we have Eddie Diaz shaving off his moustache as a symbol of not hiding any longer - choosing to embrace his true self - that’s a pretty loud parallel if you ask me.

Now to the colour theory of it all - because you see we have pink coming to the party for both Eddie and Freddie!

Freddie wore this wonderful double breasted pale pink satin suit for the promotional photographs and for the music video of ‘The Great Pretender’ and the scenes he wore it for in the music video were the ones that symbolised him being his true self as he reflected back on his life and all the various costumes and ‘disguises’ he wore throughout his life and career.

And now we’ve had Eddie in Pink for two very key scenes - the only time he has worn pink in the entire show.

Firstly we have the karaoke scene with Eddie in his Crockett and Tubbs pale pink suit and dark pink shirt.

And then we have Risky business Eddie in a pale pink shirt

Both times Eddie has worn pink pale pink have been in connection with being shown his true unmasked and unfiltered self - at the karaoke we see him letting loose and just enjoying himself, and then we have the newly shaven Eddie dancing the Risky business dance finding joy in something. They’re both scenes about Eddies joy, his freedom and him expressing himself. They’re about showing the audience who the real Eddie is - when he isn’t weighed down by all the other things in his life.

Oh hey look, its not even just the pink parallels of it all because we also had drag queens in the great pretender music video (L-R Roger Taylor, Peter Straker and Freddie Mercury) just like we did in the Karaoke scene.

And then we have the green and pink parallel!

Because something I have been side eyeing hard since we first got the stills for the karaoke scene is the colour swap for Buck and Eddie. This was the first time we saw Eddie in pink - in any real colour colour to be honest - Eddie has stuck to a pretty rigid colour palette since he first appeared in Under pressure (oh look yet another Queen reference!) always in muted shades rarely wearing anything bright and generally in a green, grey, blue, black and white colour palette with a little bit of burgundy/maroon thrown in. The only time we’ve really seen him in anything close to a bright colour is the yellow shirt from 601 which we have just seen again in 806. Buck however has worn pink on numerous occasions (Mays graduation party, the tsunami, the hilly coffee maker scene, when Chim figures out Buck knew where Maddie was scene etc etc) and so it is a staple colour for him. Mint green however is not a colour he wears - in fact Buck wearing green more generally is not common at all (especially outside of break up scenes!). So I was already looking for significance in the colour choices that had been made - but didn’t have all the pieces (and not just because the actual karaoke element of the scene had been cut) - until now! Now it is very clear that wardrobe and ABP have to have been given specific colour instructions about Eddies costume colour - because they needed it to play into the Freddie Mercury concept - the pink suit and the swept back hair, the drag queens - the entire thing was a nod to the great pretender and basically the kicking off of a queer arc for Eddie - now backed up by the 806 scene.

I wrote at the time in my meta about pink being the colour for the season and being a play on innocence and naïveté - which did fit with this scene and Eddie in this scene, but it also felt like it wasn’t the entire answer - with the context of the risky business Eddie scene though - now it is making sense - it is about showing Eddie letting go and being free, but it is also symbolic of Eddie becoming lighter (and no I don’t mean in terms of the fact he seems to only wear half his clothes when he’s in pink!) as he allows his true self to see the sunlight.

It also gives us this very interesting parallel/mirroring - Eddie in Pink - Buck in green - in both scenes - the framing is the same - right down to Eddie drinking his beer!

Notice how the tone has swapped though - Eddie darker toned in his darker pink shirt while Buck is super pale in the mint green - switched to Eddie in the super pale pink while Buck is in the very dark green. In S7 both are in relationships and they’re all over each other - because it is ‘safe’ to do so - its the most intimate we’ve ever actually scene them (physically I know they’ve metaphorically been closer) Then when they’re both single they’re keeping a foot apart!

The parallel is a really interesting one - this idea that the episode before - in 705 both Buck and Eddie nearly end up single but choose to stay/ pursue relationships that are not the right fit for them - highlighted by this karaoke scene showing who there person actually is - now backed up by the final scene of 806 - reversed colours and all - showing who their person is after both relationships have ended. The light and dark of both scenes plays into who is in the better place in that moment - So Buck was in the best place in 706 while Eddie is in 806. The other aspect of the two scenes is the loud v quiet. Bucks bi arc being a loud and bright colourful affair full of drama etc, while Eddies is taking a more sedate and quiet route - much like the quiet of a scene where they just sit together in silence. This is a reflection of what each needs in those moments - Buck needed the world to accept him and his bisexuality in 706 and in 806 its about Eddie accepting himself. Their journey’s from here on out are the opposite - Buck now needs to sit in the silence and accept himself while Eddie needs the acceptance of the outside world (namely his parents and Chris) they are holding mirrors up to each other and it perfectly highlights their respective personalities and wider journeys. It also reflects the duality of Freddie Mercury himself - a complete showman - confident and full of charisma on stage - off stage however he was, by all accounts a quiet and unassuming but complex man who accepted himself privately but wasn’t able or wiling to share all of himself with the world (as was and is his right).

So the Freddie Mercury parallel that it seems Tim is playing into is very loud and telling and the colour theory is backing it up perfectly so far.

This is a rambling mess - it’s 2:30am and I should be asleep so apologies if it makes zero sense, but I hope it does!

[vintagerpg]

The Hanging Stones (1982) is a wild one, in part because it vibrating on the same frequency as Halloween III, believe it or not, which came out the same year. It’s probably my favorite of the Silver John novels.

So, rich asshole Noel Kottler is building a replica of Stonehenge on Teatray Mountain to serve as a tourist destination for New Age types (Wellman has two head honchos of crackpot mystical organizations on-site to mercilessly mock the entire novel). Kottler is entirely awful, thinks because he has money he can do anything, buy anything and have anyone do his bidding, including John and his wife, Evadare. John immediately loathes him. It is pretty clear the Wellman does too, which makes for some delightfully snide asides.

As if that weren’t enough, the construction project is being carried out on land that is sacred to a local tribe of ectoplasmic werewolves (the don’t change into wolves, they don a wolf-form of ectoplasm summoned by their heightened emotional state, and you can beat it out of them, which is weird but also pretty great) who try to drive John away and eventually kidnap Evadare to leverage his departure (in order to leave the camp unprotected when they eventually attack). Also there is Esdras Hogue, a wandering sorcerer, who does not like the new Stonehenge, nor the werewolves. Also, Wellman’s NYC occult detective Judge Pursuivant, an old man with a magic sword, shows up as well. It all comes down to a big siege by the werewolves versus the unlikely allies at the construction site, who win out because Hogue summons the spirits of the Stone Age builders/protectors of the real Stonehenge to fight on their side. The only person who dies is the millionaire. Boo-hoo.

[geminibsworld]

Preachers daughter (one shot *maybe* )

⚠️: daddy!kink (a bit) innocence!kink, pinv, fingering,oral recieving and giving (m & f)

it was a summer afternoon, church was just starting. pearl, the preachers daughter, sat up front smiling proudly, while her father preached about the good lord. her mother sat next to her, pearl looked around. her eyes landing on Jessie's gang, she rolled her eyes turning around to face the front. she was trying to listen to her father when she felt eyes burning into her. she turned around, her red lips agape, as she's met with bluest eyes she's ever seen.

Billy the kid, of course. an outlaw, basically. he had a wild reputation, he'd never kill anyone but he has a reputation. a harlot reputation. every girl and mom had been with billy. pearl could never, she would never allow it.

"Amen!" voices interrupted her, as she turns around clapping and smiling with everyone else. she stood up with her family, her dress sticking to her as it was 90⁰ outside. it was 1982, and things were simple. pearl and her family lived the simple church life. she liked it that way, simple.

"pearl," her father's voice came into peer, she turned and grinned.

"wonderful speech, daddy," her country accent sweet like honey. billy loved your voice, he knew you sounded like honey so you had to taste like honey. billy cleared his throat taking off his hat as he stood behind the family.

"hello.. young man," pearls father tight lipped smile, glared at billy. he didn't care, he knew what people thought.

Billy's hat was in his hands as he was showing respect, pearl smiled to herself behind her family.

"I've heard you need help on your farm, sir," Billy's gruff Texas accent played like a melody in her ears. she gulped, as she felt chills on the hottest day she's felt in awhile.

"well, uh, I don't know-" her father began.

"sir, I'm a hardworker and I can do anything you need, pay me or don't." Billy's pleaded, his voice trying to not sound desperate. truth was he needed work, he needed to take care of his own self too. he needed to eat.

♡

pearl was outside, on the porch watching Billy front a distance as he was shoveling hay. she watched his back, his tall broad frame yet skinny waist. he was strong, his muscles flexed, and he threw his head back taking off his hat and wiping his forehead.

pearl got an idea. she'd bring him water.

pearl walked out in a small white dress, nothing underneath of course, too hot for all that. her parents were already asleep, she felt bad but was so curious at the same time. she walked feeling the soft grass between her toes under her small feet, holding a jug of water. she felt so nervous, she hadn't talked to a lot of boys before, if so they were related due to her father.

she peered into the barn seeing billy, shirtless this time, sitting on the hay wiping his forehead again.

"y'know it's rude to stare," his voice caused her eyes to bug out of her head. she gulped before saying,

"well, you need water," she stated, quietly feeling nervous now. he stood up over her, and stared down at her, he smirked at her nervousness before grabbing the jug outta her hand and drinking while making eyecontact with her. he watched her shake, he almost laughed. so innocent, he thought. he wanted to see her shake in another way.

"thank you, maam," he handed the water back to her, she gulped nodding not making eye contact. billy noticed this.

"why won't you look at me ?" his voice low, causing a feeling to arise in her in her lower belly. she'd never felt that before.

"well, my momma said if I ever so much as look at a man they'll take advantage of me," pearl said, quietly. billy nodded, taking it in.

"well, I would never take advantage of such a pretty girl," his accent thick, and low now.

pearl gulped stepping back, looking at his naked large chest then back to his eyes then anywhere else. billy liked how innocent she was, how she wouldn't look into his eyes, he craved that.

*

pearl was cleaning up after the service. billy walked by and looked in the stained windows, seeing pearl bent over, he caught a view of her panties. her whole ass was out, and she didn't even notice or so he thought. he decided to walk in when she walked away, he locked the door behind him, quietly. she walked back into the room, she jumped seeing billy.

"h-hi william," she coughed, smoothing down her dress.

"hi, honey," his accent heavy, she shivered when he said that. she shook off her thoughts before asking a question.

"why are you here?" she asked, unsure. billy smiled at her.

"to see my favorite girl of course," pearl looked away, and continued to pick up every Bible.

"I don't think she's here, try again later. normally harlots don't go to church." pearl sneered at him, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulders.

"oh but she is," he stepped towards her, too close, she thought. she gulped, looking away continuing on grabbing every Bible.

"she wears little dresses, never a bra, and always wears the most innocent looking panties. but I know she could be my harlot if I touched her in the right place. would you like that, honey?" his accent low, and rough.

her mouth fell open, she was feeling something she felt the other night. her lower stomach bubbling in heat, a wetness poured in her panties.

billy noticed her silence and her reaction, she looked so small and innocent. he stepped forward, brushing a few hair behind her ear. her bright green eyes staring back. he leaned in and pressed a small kiss to her lips.

she was surprised and pulled back. his eyes darker and his lips fuller now.

she gasped at the sight of him, he was so beautiful.

"have you ever touched yourself before?" his southern accent breaking the silence.

"um no," pearl said, quietly. her cheeks reddened by now, she was biting her lip.

"may i?" he asked her, peering into her eyes.

pearl reluctantly nodded her head, billy picked up pearl like she weighed nothing.

"wrap your legs around me, dollface," and she did. he carried her to the priests office, shutting and locking the door then laying pearl down on the desk. her body lay there, as she anxiously waited, billy threw everything on the floor turning her body so it's long ways.

"billy, I've never done this before," she sat up on her elbows, hair a mess and her strap falling off her shoulder. billy laughed as he took off his belt and vest. he had lost his hat a bit ago, his hair had grown so much.

"baby, I know what you have and haven't done. I still wanna take care of ya," he leaned down between her thighs. she was soaked, she was so embarrassed, she tried closing her legs.

"let me taste you," he mumbled into her, before taking a long wet stripe to her wet patch on her panties. she moaned out, her hands fitting her dress. he pushed up her short dress more, exposing all of her.

"that feels nice," she said, not even realizing what was going on. billy smirked, pulling her white wet panties down her thighs. once they were gone, he pushed her legs up on the desk spreading her all the way open.

billy gasped, she was dripping. literally honey, he thought. he dove right in, no warning. licking her clit, she screamed out. his tongue playing with her clit, slowly.

"oh my-" she breathed out, whimpering. billy smirked to himself before speeding up, his tongue doing soft but fast. a feeling way coming up, she felt like she had to pee. she was a moaning whimpering mess.

"my messy baby, your pussy is soaking. can't wait to feel you around me. " he grumbled into her, she cried out as he took in all her juices, not missing any.

"feel good baby?" he sat her up, she lazily sat up. her hair falling behind her.

"take your dress off baby," she obliged, tiredly. billy smirked watching her as he unbuttoned his button up, and pulled down his pants. her dress was off as she watched him, she looked down and gasped.

"big, ain't it? sometimes the ladies call me billy the man," he laughed, "too bad, I only want you to call me that," he winked at pearl.

"I bet you say that to all the girls," pearl mumbled, looking down away from his gaze. two fingers lifted her head, their eyes met.

"I wouldn't lie to you, honey," he mumbled planting a kiss on her forehead, "now lay back and let daddy do his thing,"

she laid back, his large fingers rubbed her clit in circles. she was seeing stars, she was a whimpering messy little girl and billy loved it.

"billy,-" she breathed out, eyes rolling in the back of her head.

"baby, im gonna try somethin'" suddenly two finger plunged into her, his large fingers giving her a filling feeling. his fingers curled, causing this feeling to happen. billy continued, adding another finger. he finger fucked her, hard.

"daddy," she moaned, billy had to hold back his moan.

"fuck it," he mumbled, grabbing his hardened member spitting on it while rubbing in his precum. while pearl was in her own euphoric world, he played with her small bud rubbing in circles with his thumb.

he placed himself at her entrance, before pushing in slowly. inch by inch by inch, she could feel herself expanding around his large member. the farther he got in the more she wanted more, he pulled all the way out before sliding all the way back in hard. she cried out, he wrapped his toned arms around her back pulling her up, before slamming his hips into hers multiple times.

"fuck bi-daddy," she cursed as he fucked her roughly. rough sex was Billy's favorite and most girls liked it because his big cock.

billy moaned as he fucked her, their hips meeting, he pulled her into a messy kiss. he stuck his tongue in her mouth, she could taste herself. she sucked on his tongue causing this animalistic sound to come out of billy. he pulled away, before pulling her out and flipping her over so she was bent over the desk.

"such a pretty pink pussy baby, can't wait to destroy it," he spit on his cock, jerking it a few times before sliding into her wet hole.

she moaned, billy went in so deeply he could feel her cream on his cock. he grunted, her ass jiggling against him. he reached for her long hair pulling her back so she could look at him as billy was filling her up.

"fuck," she cried out as he plunged into her, billy was turned on, she was his bad girl. he wanted that, he wanted to turn her and he did.

"preachers daughter my ass," he only went harder, she clenched around him crying out. tears staining her pretty pink cheeks.

"you my dirty whore? huh?" billy grunted, pulling her head back more.

"oh my God yes daddy, I'm your dirty whore," she cried out, Cumming again on his cock.

billy was close, he became sloppy yet hard still. he wanted to cum on her back, he wanted to see the cum on her.

"fuck, honey, I'm close," he breathed, letting go of her hair, moving to her lips.

"daddy fuck, don't stop," they moaned together before billy pulled out and finished on her back.

pearl was out of breath, and sore. extremely sore, there was a liquid pouring down her legs. she looked around for billy, he wasn't there. she began to feel used, upset.

billy came walking in, his thermals on and a rag in his hand, she felt much relief.

"lemme take care of this mess baby," he smiled at her, she nodded grinning biting her lip as he wiped her and him clean.

"I'd like to see you again, doll," he smirked, she bit her lip hiding a grin slipping on her dress. she picked her panties off the ground, handing them to billy.

"keep these", she whispered before asking, " you workin today?"

billy smirked getting dressed, before looking at her .

"oh I'm workin' today darlin. I'll take ya home, and we can continue, if you'd like of course." billy said, smooth but sweetly.

"sure, daddy,"

she stopped calling her dad, daddy so dw no one will be confused or weirded out.

[legobiwan]

Gravity Falls fic rec list...Part 2.

I should be grading writing right now, but in the spirit of procrastination, I'm going to instead post about my favorite new fics that have emerged in the post-Book of Bill era.

~~~~~~

Gen Fics

A Mariner’s Guide to the Unexplained by mariezies

Another fic that tackles the idea of Stan's criminal past coming back to haunt him as the elder Pines twins take to the sea. What I really like about this fic are Ford's inner monologues and in particular, the way he overthinks his interactions with his brother post-Weirdmaggedon due to the crushing level of guilt he feels. Bonus points for the incredibly adorable cat OC who joins the twins on the Stan o'War II. Incomplete.

We're Still Here by Simplistic_Apricity

What if Stan hadn't knocked Ford through the portal in 1982 and stuck around Gravity Falls instead? A bajillion fics have been written about this concept, but this one takes a slightly different approach as to the fallout from a Bill-possessed Ford attacking his brother as Ford slowly (slowly) comes to terms with what exactly he has wrought in that basement. The characterization and interactions of the twins and Fiddleford are incredibly grounded, avoiding melodrama while still being wildly effective. Incomplete. TWs for violence and medical trauma.

~~~~~~

Billford Fics

Not to sound like a 2013 hipster, but I do want to state that I hopped on this seafaring vessel pre-BoB and am delighted to witness the explosion of works exploring the demented, tortured relationship between these two absolute disasters. I've decided to let my cringe flag fly high and free here, with the caveat that I only indulge in triangle!Bill stories (accept no substitutions), as, let's face it, Ford is a freak (affectionate) and he loves his geometry.

Statement Abnegation by Anonymous

This one probably needs no introduction, but I'd be wholly remiss if I didn't include it on my list. A+ characterization of both Ford and Bill and it fucking nails the landing. Ford is taken prisoner during Weirdmaggedon, but this time Bill's playing for keeps. Complete. TWs for torture, death (temporary), Stockholm syndrome, and explicit sexual content.

apology tour by dolorous

There's something downright wistful about this story, which presents as "crack taken seriously" when Bill chooses Ford to be his keeper/chaperone as part of a Theraprism-mandated apology tour to those he has wronged post-BoB. Ford hates Bill. Ford sometimes doesn't hate Bill. Ford definitely hates Bill. And now they're stuck on the road trip from hell. Complete. Implied past (current/future?) relationship, no sexual content.

Then it becomes, it becomes, it becomes a problem by tempusedaxrerum

Takes place post-Betrayal but (so far) pre-Stanley arriving in Gravity Falls. Bill is determined to drag Ford into opening the Portal, kicking and screaming (limbs optional). Features an incredibly well-developed OC who is battling demons of her own when she has the misfortune of crossing paths with both Bill and Ford on a snowy evening in Oregon. Incomplete. TWs for violence, attempted sexual assault via possession, substance abuse.

Live, Laugh, Lather, Rinse, Repeat by ShibaIntuit

The conceit of this story is absolutely wild. Essentially, Ford eats a cursed piece of pizza and suffers from existential indigestion. The world-building once Ford is in the multiverse is delightful as an older Ford tries to renegotiate his past with a Bill Cipher of thirty years previous. Incomplete. TWs for violence.

as falls gravity so falls gravity falls by underwater_owl

A series of three stories that take a deep dive into Ford's subconscious while exploring the idea of the Axolotl placing Bill under Ford's mental power due to shenanigans you are better off reading about than me explaining here. Bait & Switch is the main narrative, which is a gen work featuring the whole extended Pines family plus Mabel and Dipper's mother, while Because & Despite and Cause & Effect explore the intense psychosexual relationship between Ford and Bill before and during the events of Bait & Switch. These last two stories really dig into the nature of Ford's deepest and darkest desires and the utterly twisted relationship between Ford and Bill. Incomplete. TWs for explicit sexual content (read the tags on those two last stories, folks! This author isn't, or is, I suppose, fucking around).

Snakes in the Garden by Miss_Ginger_Bread

Another Jimmy Snakes story! Because both Pines twins have terrible taste in men/demonic entities. A ghost from Stan's past shows up in Norway, prompting Ford to take matters into his own hands. Lovely interactions between the Pines twins, including a murderous, protective Ford and a Ford who is harboring a gigantic, triangle-shaped secret from his brother. Incomplete. TWs for abusive relationships.

[r0se1111]

Stan Pines x Reader

This man won't leave my head get OUT!! Ford is a little hm... silly in this I love the guy but he was kinda crazy at this point rip. Loosely based on this. Might continue but I'll prob diverge from the og post a bit for completely selfish hurt/comfort purposes >:)

1982

You hadn't planned on getting your best friend sucked into a portal that leads to who knows where. You'd begged him to stop, trying desperately to convince him that together you'd figure something else out. But once Fiddleford left in a fit of hysteria, there was no one else to make sure Ford didn't end up killing himself over this project.

Maybe he'd be better off that way. Not floating past incomprehensible dimensions, armed with only a pair of out-of-date glasses and a worn coat. The bitter thought crosses your mind for a moment before the crushing guilt of even considering that punches you in the gut.

But no, you had stayed by his side, his ever-faithful research assistant. Every time you saw the dark circles under his eyes, the shake in his hands, and the madness written across his pale face, your heart just broke.

So when he'd told you he had reached out to his brother for help, and when his brother actually showed up, you could have cried tears of raw relief. Stan, as he introduced himself, was a little rough around the edges, broader and a bit taller than Ford, but had the same sort of tired wild hope in his eyes as Ford did when he was convinced the portal "just has to work this time!" And when Ford snapped at you in his exhaustion, Stan was quick to fly his hand out in front of you as if he could physically shield you from your friend's words. You decided then and there that you trusted him.

Things got worse as Ford explained his plan to his brother, all but pushing him out the door in his urgency to hide those damn journals. The two quickly fell into a fist-fight, you frantically hitting at shoulders and tugging at rouge elbows as you attempted to break them apart. Then you watched, horrified, as Ford floated through the air and into the blue glowing veil of the portal, disappearing from this dimension.

You heard the power shut off, and vaguely heard Stan screaming something you couldn't make out over the ringing of your ears and beating of your heart. Your wide eyes started blankly through the circle of the portal, as if you would see Ford simply standing on the other side.

You didn't.

Hands roughly grabbed your shoulders and a figure knelt down to make eye contact with you. Before your eyes focused and you could only process the basic shapes of that face, you had a wild thought that it was Ford, that the events of the past few minutes were just a bad, stress-fueled dream. But when you returned that hard stare, you saw longer hair and a slight raised scar across a lip moving in speech.

"You can get it to work, right? You made this with him?" Stan kneaded the skin of your shoulder, whether to soothe himself or you, you couldn't tell. His voice sounded raw and tired in fear and overuse, and it cracked a little with his desperate questioning. You gulp and stand, methodically walking to the control panel and repeating steps you had practiced hundreds of times before. Except, just like 99 out of 100 times before, there was no flicker of blue, no jolt of energy that brought Ford back. You tried again. No response. Again. Nothing.

You stood there working the knobs and buttons, doing the math in your head for what seemed like hours, until your hands were numb, and you were aware of tears wetting your cheeks. That hand was back, doing that funny little kneading motion which actually did a damn good job of grounding you.

"Hey... Y/N, right?"

You jerk your head around to look at Stan and see that he had those same tell-tale wet marks running down his cheeks. He had been watching you for all that time. His lips looked red and bitten at, and he'd lost that nice warm splash of color in his face. It suddenly hits you that while you'd lost your best friend, this guy had lost his brother. A wave a nausea makes you keel over.

"Oh-oh god," You choke out, pulling away from his comforting touch. You don't deserve it, not now. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Jesus, he's your brother Stan and I- I took him away, I let him do this-"

Stan is looking at you with a complicated expression, almost like he's in physical pain. He pulls his hand away from where he'd reached out again for you and formed a tight fist against his thigh. "You didn't-" A quick, sharp sigh. "Look." He brings his hands up to fiddle with his fingers in front of his stomach. "This whole situation is fucked, and if anyone is to blame for it it's not you. I want," He cuts off into another hitched breath and you notice his hands are shaking too. "I need to fix this." Stan fixes you with a suddenly determined gaze. "But I don't know shit about..." He gestures vaguely to the mess of buttons and pasted notes before you.

"You want my help." You don't ask, because there's no question about it. Of course you're helping. Even if this Stan guy had kicked you out and told you to get lost, you'd figure something out to get Ford back. Even if Stan turns out to be completely hopeless and obnoxious, you are staying in this sleepy little town and this run-down shack until your friend is home.

Stan nods, and the way he mutters a hoarse "please" makes you think he's not used to how that word feels, tastes. He's tangling his fingers together again, looking like a guilty kid awaiting his punishment. Your heart clenches. This guy is gonna kill me. You decide then and there that you were going to take good care of him.

This time it's you who reaches forward to press the weight of your hand into his shoulder. "I promise you, Stan, I'm not going anywhere until Ford is back."

Stan looks up at you and you realize those dark eyes you can never say no to run in the family. You spend a moment categorizing Stan's features, how his mouth twitches a little further left when he frowns, and how his strong nose looks a little snow-burned, red and raw. You stare at him a bit longer, feeling penitent and dizzy with the weight of the night's events.

Turning back to the control panel, you pick up a notebook haphazardly leaned against the wall the panel was tucked into. You flip it open to a miraculously blank page and rummage through your pocket for your spare pen. You let Stan lean into your space then begin writing. "So, quantum mechanics..."

[strawberryshortcake1495]

You know Monster Falls? I just came up with a different version of the AU with Mullet Stan (mwahaha)

So there’s this old Gacha Life series called “My Pets” (just search it up on YouTube and you should find it). Anyways, I was rewatching the series and got struck with another one of my brilliant ideas.

The year is 1982, and Stan Pines has been kidnapped by Rico and his goons. Luckily, he manages to break free of his chains and sneak through the vents before anyone can notice he’s gone. As he’s crawling through the vents, he passes a room filled with these weird animals. That catches his eye. These animals are actually humanoid creatures that Stan had only seen in the old fairytale books at the New Jersey library. But that’s not what keeps him stuck there, hovering over the room. These creatures look like little kids. They’re so small, so fragile, and they all look beat up. Suddenly, the vent grid collapses underneath Stan and he falls into the room. All the kids freak out and the deer-hybrid runs in front of everyone. It screams something. Oh, great. The kids speak Spanish. Stan heard rumbling from outside and knew he only had at least 2 minutes to escape before the goons catch him and he’s back to square one. So he grabs a sheet of paper and a pencil on the floor and draws out an escape plan. If these kids have been here for a while, they know all the ins and outs of this place. The plan is: Stan lets the kids free and in return, they help Stan get out of here. They all seem to understand. Everyone goes ahead with the plan and they’re almost caught but manage to escape. Stan is glad to be free and turns around, expecting the creatures to just run off into the wild, when something tugs at his sleeve. He looks down and sees a little girl whose some fusion of a unicorn and a mermaid. The kids are speaking Spanish again. Stan tries to leave but the girl draws something in the soft mud. An picture of all the kids…staying with Stan. They want to stay with him? Oh no no, he can barely take care of himself. He can’t take care of 8 mystical creatures on his own.

Before he knows it, he’s spreading his jacket out in the backseat of the El Diablo to make a makeshift bed for half of the kids. The other half will have to sleep in the trunk, which he already cushioned with all his junk. “Gracias, senor.” The deer says. He tussles the kid’s hair and puts him to rest. Everyone sleeps peacefully for the first time in their lives while Stan stands outside the El Diablo to lookout for any threats. He takes a moment to think about the future. If these kids will be here for the long run, he’ll have to teach them English and valuable life lessons. Oh god…he’s such a screwup.

(edit is by the silly @luluquiq)

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (XIII)

Chapter 13: Decisions

Hi! Here comes a new chapter! We are reaching the heights of the angst… next chapter. So, buckle up, we’re up for a wild ride…

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 1982

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

“Andy, honey… can you take a pic from up there? Down the river. Try to centre it on the bridge…”

Andrew followed his mother’s instructions, climbed on the bench by the docks that ran along the Liffey, aimed the camera the best he could, took a couple of pictures.

“Is that alright?” he asked his mother to check the pictures, handing her the camera.

“Perfect! Thank you, honey.”

They resumed their walk down the river, Raine’s camera secured around her neck. He offered his mother his arm, and she took it with a tender smile.

“This is such a lovely afternoon, isn’t it?” she said after a moment of comfortable silence.

The sky was grey but there was no rain in sight. Dublin was busy with life, as it always was. The murmur of cars passing in adjacent streets and boulevards mingled with the cries of a few seagulls who had flew up along the river from the sea. It was early in the afternoon still, right after lunch-hours, and the docks were empty of people, except for the occasional joggers and their loud earphones, the parents and their children, the lovely couples. It wasn’t too warm, nor too windy. There was a sweet scent coming from a nearby bakery.

“Yeah, it is lovely,” Andrew nodded.

“Thanks for coming with me today and helping me with the pictures.”

“I’m expecting some kind of reward for such hard work,” he joked, making his mother laugh wholeheartedly.

“That may be arranged… if you come for lunch on Sunday.”

“Sure, I’ll be there.”

“Jon is coming too, with his partner.”

“Lovely.”

“You can ask Y/N to come, if you want to.”

“Mom…”

Andrew shook his head, growing annoyed already.

“Y/N and I aren’t together. I’ve told you…”

“I know, I know. You have that… casual thing going on. No progress on that then?”

Andrew grew quiet, pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he thought of an answer.

“I don’t know,” he answered earnestly. “I’m fucking lost.”

Raine waited patiently for her son to speak again.

“I… It’s like… I don’t know what she wants. Sometimes it’s just so… nice. Like we’re moving forward, like we’re getting closer to being an actual couple. And the next second she’s cold and just…”

“One step forward, two steps back…”

“Yeah, something like that. Back to square one. I don’t know what to do. I just… I can’t believe she feels nothing at all. There was this one time I talked to a woman in a pub… she was fucking jealous. I stayed over night and it was so… intimate. Really. It wasn’t just casual. And we have so much fun together, like… we really have a lot of moments when we are truly happy. But then, the other day, she just ran off like laying in bed with me for five minutes might kill her.”

He heaved a deep sigh.

“I don’t know. I’m lost. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I should do, and I don’t know what I want either.”

“Don’t you? Know what you want?”

“I mean… I do know. But she doesn’t want that.”

“Have you told her how you feel?”

“No… I don’t think she would react well.”

It was Raine’s turn to heave a sigh.

“If the two of you don’t want the same thing… you can’t stay with her. You’ll get hurt, Andrew. Do you understand?”

“Of course… don’t you think I’ve thought of that?” he fought back, being harsher than he meant.

He felt guilty as soon as the words passed his lips, and so he tightly closed them.

“You need to talk to her,” his mother insisted, ignoring her son’s irritation. “It’s the only way out. Communication is key.”

“I know.”

“But?”

“But if I do, and she rejects me…”

He let his words suspended in mid-air, to hover between them. But Raine soon let out a low chuckle.

“Andy… You can’t have happiness without sorrow; love without pain; satisfaction without risks… it’s never one or the other. It’s always both. If she rejects you, you’ll have to learn how to live with it, the way we all do.”

“I don’t know how to live without her. And I don’t think I want to find out.”

Slowly, she nodded.

“You must really love her,” was her only answer.

His throat tightened, he could feel that he was welling up too.

“Yeah… yeah…”

“I have to admit… I don’t understand her,” Raine went on.

She stopped their walk so they could sit on the bench there, facing the river. It wasn’t the nicest part of the docks, but it was quiet, and someone near was blowing soap bubbles with their daughter. They flew up catching the light of the hidden sun, iridescent and fragile as they rod on the wind. They both looked at the bubbles while they spoke.

“What do you mean?” asked Andrew.

“I mean… I’ve always thought that she felt the same as you did. That one day your lives would finally align, and you’d end up together. Married even.”

“Were you already choosing baby names for us?” Andrew laughed.

“I have a whole list,” she joked, and they both laughed for a moment, despite all the pain held in this conversation. “I don’t know… I thought she loved you.”

“I don’t know… sometimes I have hope. Sometimes she pushes me away so much, I wonder if she doesn’t hate me a little.”

“Hate you?”

“Or is ashamed of me, perhaps.”

“Why would she be ashamed of you? You’re a good man. You truly are a good and kind person. There will never be a day when I am not infinitely proud of who you’ve become.”

“God, mom, stop… that’s enough…” Andrew protested, blushing all the way to the top of his ears and shifting uncomfortably on their bench.

Raine merely smiled fondly at him.

“I don’t know,” Andrew went on. “I don’t understand what she wants.”

“This can’t go on forever.”

Slowly, he nodded. Daphne’s words echoed in his mind.

“You’re right. I need to talk to her.”

“I’m your mother. I’m always right!”

They laughed again, brighter and merrier than before. They remained there for a long while, chatting, the conversation drifting towards the rest of their family, this new recipe for a blueberry pie she wanted to try, this song he was working on.

When he offered to go for tea before going home, Andrew was fully aware of how lucky he was to have her by his side.

The hike was nice, although the weather was unsteady. But then again, it always was in Ireland.

Andrew wanted to wait until you would reach the lake to talk. First Daphne, then his mother… he couldn’t push back that moment any longer.

You had talked about your work while you walked, then about the wedding. It was coming closer, only a couple of months left. Soon, it would be time to try on the dresses and suits, settle on the flavour for the cake.

You were growing a little annoyed though. It was visible that he was only half-listening to you, barely participating in the conversation. Still, you didn’t say a thing, merely pouting and frowning a little. You were adorable, as always…

“Ha, there it is! Let’s take a break!” he offered as you finally reached the shore of the lake.

You plopped down in the grass as an answer, further away from the trail so as not to be disturbed if more people were coming this way. Andrew soon joined you.

“Alright, what snacks for today?” he asked, making you roll your eyes.

“You know you can bring your own snacks…”

“They’re better if I steal them from you!”

You chuckled, handing him some biscuits and some grapes.

“As sweet as you,” he teased, biting in one of the fruits and shooting you a wink that brough fire to your skin.

“Smooth,” you said with irony dripping from your voice.

He laughed, biting on his biscuit instead. His favourites. He wondered if you knew how much he loved them. You often carried these when you hiked together.

There was a long silence, and Andrew was visibly nervous. He had a lot of courage to gather, and a lump in his throat that needed to be swallowed back, so he could finally talk to you.

“Andy? Spit it out.”

He looked up at you.

“Hmm?”

“Whatever it is that got you so worked up… spit it out. You’re killing me.”

He clenched his jaw, set his gaze on the lake. Peaceful. Tiny ripples brought by the wind. Rocks and grass and wildflowers staining its shores. There were some birds over there, on a tiny rock, right on the edge of the water. He wondered what kind of birds they were, all shades of grey and white and black…

“I just… I think we should talk.”

“We have talked,” you fought back, defensive already.

“Y/N…”

“Look, Andy… things are simple. We don’t need to talk about this more. We agreed that this would be casual, just sex, no attach. If you don’t want to do that anymore, we can stop.”

“I don’t want us to stop…”

“What do you want then?”

You.

But if he said it, he knew you would run. He could see it in your eyes now. Somehow, he just knew you would fly away like these birds on the shore of the lake, that you would disappear in the sky, never to be seen again.

“I just want you to answer one question.”

“Go on.”

“What do you want from me?”

You were so taken aback by his question, you were left silent, with lips parted and brows furrowed.

“What… what do you mean?” you stuttered back.

“What do you want from me? This… this is temporary. At one point, we’ll either become more than friends, or go back to being in a friendly zone. Which one will it be?”

You huffed, clearly uncomfortable, shifting your weight.

“I don’t know. How could I know that?”

“I know.”

“And what do you want?”

“I asked first.”

“I asked second.”

“No. No, Y/N. You’re not allowed to turn that around.”

“Why not? Why are you asking this anyway? You’re always… wanting to plan, wanting to make this evolve… why can’t things just remain how they are?”

Because I’m in love with you.

But Andrew couldn’t say that. He settled for what seemed like the next best thing.

“Because I care about you. And because nothing ever stays the same. Things always change.”

He was surprised by your sudden anger. How you got to your feet in a jolt. How you started packing back your snacks.

“Y/N…”

“I don’t fucking know, okay?! What do you want me to tell you, Andy? It was never meant to be more than an arrangement. What else could I say?”

“It means more than that to me.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. He didn’t know what to make of your silence. Because if no words were coming out of your mouth, tears were gathering at the corners of your eyes.

And his heart was beating a thousand miles a minute, but he didn’t back down. He stared, and waited, for an answer that never came.

Instead, you kept on packing. And then you were off to the trail without a word. He followed you, eventually, walking behind you in silence. It started to rain, about halfway down the trail to get back to the carpark. You reached his car in silence, drenched and miserable.

You didn’t speak for a few days, until an olive branch was offered to him, in the shape of an invitation to the cinema.

He ended up in your bed that night, but when it was over and done, he didn’t stay.

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

THE GRIM REAPER VERSUS MOTORCYCLE HOODS -- PILFERING THE NATION'S PAST FOR USE IN 80s HARDCORE PUNK.

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on two different show flyers for a May 29, 1982 hardcore gig at the Gallery East, Boston, MA, USA, featuring GANGGREEN, D.Y.S., THE F.U.'s, THE MIGHTY C.O.'s, & JERRY'S KIDS.

Anyway, if knowledge serves me correctly, the Grim Reaper photograph was lifted from a 1960s-era/anti-Vietnam War rally, and the second flyer uses imagery from the first ever motorcycle outlaw film "The Wild One" (1953), starring Marlon Brando.

Source: https://massachusettspunkflyers.neocities.org/80sgigs.

[usafphantom2]

There is nothing that amuses me more than a secret inside of a secret.

Here’s an article that I wrote that my friend Dario Leone owner of Aviation Geek Club shared about the YF 12 and the secret SR 71 tail number 951.

Most people when they think of the YF 12 think of it as an experimental airplane that never really flew, but that is wrong. It did fly for many years. The last flight was in 1979 when it was flown to the Air Force Museum near Dayton, Ohio you can find it next to the XB-70.

The so-called YF-12C was really the SR-71A 61-7951, modified with a bogus tail number 06937 belonging to an A-12.

Taken in 1975, the interesting photos in this post show NASA Blackbirds carrying the ” Cold wall” heat transfer pod on a pylon beneath the forward fuselage.

The Blackbirds portrayed in these photos are usually referred to as YF-12s, but actually one of them was an SR-71 as Linda Sheffield Miller (Col Richard (Butch) Sheffield’s daughter, Col. Sheffield was an SR-71 Reconnaissance Systems Officer), who runs Born into the Wild Blue Yonder Habubrats Facebook page, told to The Aviation Geek Club: ‘In case anybody asked the pictures with the two NASA Blackbirds the one on the top is a YF-12 but the one on the bottom is an SR-71!

‘Another interesting thing about those pictures is that NASA was not allowed to have an SR-71 but they did and they passed it off as a YF-12!

In fact, the “YF-12C” was a then-secret SR-71A (serial no. 64-17951, the second production SR-71A) given the NASA tail no. 60-6937. The reason for this bit of subterfuge lay in the fact that NASA while flying the YF-12A interceptor version of the aircraft, was not allowed to possess the strategic reconnaissance version for some time. The bogus tail number actually belonged to a Lockheed A-12 (serial no. 60-6937), but the existence of the A-12 remained classified until 1982. The tail number 06937 was selected because it followed the sequence of tail numbers assigned to the three existing YF-12A aircraft: 06934, 06935, and 06936. Isn’t that amazing?’

The Coldwell project, supported by Langley Research Center, consisted of a stainless steel tube equipped with thermocouples and pressure sensors. A special insulating coating covered the tube, which was chilled with liquid nitrogen.

Given that the US Air Force (USAF) needed technical assistance to get the latest reconnaissance version of the A-12 family, the SR-71A, fully operational, the service offered NASA the use of two YF-12A aircraft, 60-6935 and 60-6936.

Eventually, with 146 flights between Dec. 11, 1969, and Nov. 7, 1979, 935 became the workhorse of the program while the second YF-12A, 936, made 62 flights. Given that this aircraft was lost in a non-fatal crash on Jun. 24, 1971, it was replaced by the so-called YF-12C SR-71A 61-7951, modified with YF-12A inlets and engines and a bogus tail number 06937.

The SR-71 differed from the YF-12A in that the YF-12A had a round nose while the SR-71 had its chine carried forward to the nose of the airplane. The SR-71 was longer, nearly 8 feet longer as it had an extra fuel tank that the YF 12 didn’t have. There were other differences in internal and external configuration, but the two aircraft shared common inlet designs, structural concepts, and subsystems. Also of note the SR 71C is really a combination of a static display of the SR 71 for the front half and the back half is the crashed YF-12!

In my study of all the Blackbirds, I have found other secrets inside of secrets. Such as the test SR-71 plane the 955. Everyone was told often that this airplane never left the United States, but that is not true.

When it comes to reconnaissance airplanes and War, even if it was a Cold War, Rearranging the facts is fair.

There will always be mystery in the SR 71 program.

Don’t believe that all of the secrets have been told.

I know that is not true.

Linda Sheffield, Daughter of a Habu

@Habubrats71 via X

Tap Title bar to view👇

[gardenschedule]

Perceptions of Paul as calculating & John's paranoia

“McCartney’s mistake, which he now admits, was to seem invulnerable. […] And yet, he says, the contrast between himself and Lennon, so assiduously cultivated by journalists, was a fabrication. “I wasn’t brilliant at school. I was trouble, just like John. I got caned practically every day, and the only exam I ever passed was Spanish. John and I weren’t black and white, although people took John, for all his aggression, to be the good guy, because he showed his warts. I’ve only just realized, after all this time, that people like to see warts. It makes them sympathetic. I’d always though that, in order to be liked, you had to be unwarty.””

Living with The Beatles’ legacy, the smears that Lennon left behind… and the battle to win my babies back, The Times Newspaper, Monday January 4, 1982.

Paul was the easiest to talk to. He had such energy and such keenness and, unlike John, enjoyed being liked, at least most of the time. I don't see this as a criticism; John himself could be very cruel about Paul's puppy dog eagerness to please. The irony was, and still is, that John's awfulness to people, his rudeness and cruelty, made people like him more, whereas Paul's genuine niceness made many people suspicious, accusing him of being calculating. Paul does look ahead, seeing what might happen, working out the effect of certain actions, but he often ends up tying himself in knots, not necessarily getting what he thought he wanted. I think there is some insecurity in Paul's nature, which makes him try so hard, work so hard. It also means he can be easily hurt by criticism, which was something that just washed over John.

Hunter Davies, Western Mail: The Beatles. (April 9th, 2004)

Even Paul’s immaculate manners could not thaw her. ‘Oh, yes, he was well-mannered–too well-mannered. He was what we call in Liverpool “talking posh” and I thought he was taking the mickey out of me. I thought “He’s a snake-charmer all right,” John’s little friend, Mr Charming. I wasn’t falling for it. After he’d gone, I said to John, “What are you doing with him? He’s younger than you… and he’s from Speke!”’ After that, when Paul appeared, she would always tell John sarcastically that his ‘little friend’ was here. ‘I used to tease John by saying “chalk and cheese”, meaning how different they were,’ she remembered, ‘and John would start hurling himself around the room like a wild dervish shouting “Chalkandcheese! Chalkandcheese!” with this stupid grin on his face.’

Philip Norman, Paul McCartney: The Life. (2016)

“He always suspected me. He accused me of scheming to buy over Northern Songs without telling him. I was thinking of something to invest in, and Peter Brown said what about Northern Songs, invest in yourself, so I bought a few shares, about 1,000 I think. John went mad, suspecting some plot. Then he bought some himself. He was always thinking I was cunning and devious. That’s my reputation, someone who’s charming, but a clever lad. “It happened the other day at Ringo’s wedding. I was saying to Cilia [Black] that I liked Bobby [her husband]. That’s all I said. Bobby’s a nice bloke. Ah, but what do you REALLY think Paul? You don’t mean that, do you, you’re getting at something? I was being absolutely straight. But she couldn’t believe it. No one ever does. They think I’m calculating all the time.

Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981

In the wake of his death you didn’t tour for most of the ‘80s. People suggested that you were scared to go on the road. Was that true? No. People speculate about anything. They always credit me with motives I haven’t even dreamed of. It’s interesting, the way they sort of perceive my life and analyse it for me. In that case, I never thought about touring much. People used to say, “Oh, it’s 10 years since you’ve toured.” I’d go, “Is it? Y’know, I’m not counting.” That’s all that was, really. I don’t know why. Maybe I didn’t fancy it.

The Q Interview, 2007

Astrid in Germany was always a bit suspicious of Paul at first, though his relationship with Stu was also bound up in this. 'It used to frighten me that someone could be so nice all the time. Which is silly. It's ridiculous to feel at home with nasty people, just because you feel that at least you know where you are with them. It's silly to be wary of nice people.'

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

Paul is the easiest to get to know for an outsider, but in the end he is the hardest to get to know. There is a feeling that he is holding things back, that he is one jump ahead, aware of the impression he is giving. He is self-conscious, which the others are not. John doesn't care, either way, what people think. Ringo is too adult to think about such things, and George in many ways isn't conscious. He is above it all.

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

Paul today is still the public Beatle, giving interviews at fairly regular intervals, being open and honest about himself and his past, his worries and his pleasures. Naturally, as ever, there are people who suspect his motives, putting him down for being too charming. Paul may be a bit of an actor, acting the part of Paul McCartney, the charming superstar, still loved by every mum, which can make him sound rather prissy at times, but I believe he does tell the truth about himself.

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

“My problem is to me, I come over as this very together guy, always got his finger on top of everything: the man with no problems. School – a doddle, got all the exams. This is the sort of image of me. Actually, I had murder getting through exams, like I was saying about being on tour during my GCEs. I was like the kid who was getting the cane. Just like John was, but he [Phillip Norman] makes me the very shrewd, always-going-to-succeed guy, and John is the kind of cute, working-class hero. In actual fact though, John was just as shrewd and ambitious as I was. What does me in is he adds to this image I’ve got; I resent that, because I know I’m not that, and I know I’ve never been that.

Paul McCartney’s thoughts from 1983 on Phillip Norman’s ‘Shout!’

The funny thing is, when Apple [started], everything was laid out on the table, it’s like a Monopoly game. We saw who had what. I suddenly had more Northern Song shares than anybody, and it was like, oops, sorry. John was like, “You bastard, you’ve been buying behind my back.” John saw everything like a Harold Robbins movie, you know, which it was. He’s not incorrect. I couldn’t get over the fact that we were really involved in all this. I think to this day, he’ll not understand. I don’t think he would accept right now, my naïveté in it. I think he still suspects me of trying to take over Apple. He still suspects that when I offered the Eastmans as [managers] instead of Allen Klein, he naturally assumed that I would be taken care of better than the others, and that the Eastmans could never be moral enough to be equal in their judgment and do the Beatles’ thing rather than Paul’s thing. I think they still suspect to this day.

The point I was trying to illustrate is that it wasn’t so much John being a bastard as it was his being suspicious towards me, always being suspicious towards me. There was Northern Song shares. And I swear on any holy book you want, I know he won’t believe it, but I know for sure that I didn’t buy them with the view to— If I was really trying to do it, I could have bought an awful lot more. So it does hurt a little bit that there’s someone who still thinks, like, I’m out to get them, or that I always was. That’s one of the nice things about it— It’s a pity [I never said to John, “Fuck off, I’m not trying to do it”—and never was]. But he knows I was kind of— We were behind the scenes, and we did a few little [things] that we had to do, and our ambitions, and it was never a kind of terrifying skeletons in the closet. It was always just normal—but, uh, they …

All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

SG: Were the other Beatles anti-Linda? PMcC: Uh, yeah. I should think so. Like we were anti-Yoko. But you know John and Yoko, you can see it now, the way to get their friendship is to do everything the way they require it. To do anything else is how to not get their friendship. This is still how it is with John and Yoko. I know that if I absolutely lie down on the ground and just do everything like they say and laugh at all their jokes and don’t expect my jokes to ever get laughed at, and don’t expect any of my opinions ever to carry any weight whatsoever, if I’m willing to do all that, then we can be friends. But if I have an opinion that differs from theirs, then I’m a sort of an enemy. And naturally, paint myself a villain with a big mustache on, because to the ends of the earth, that’s how they both see me. They’re very suspicious people [John and Yoko], and one of the things that hurt me out of the whole affair, was that we’d come all that way together, and out of either a fault in my character, or out of lack of understanding in their character, I’d still never managed to impress upon them that I wasn’t trying to screw them. I don’t think that I have to this day.

All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

I was never out to screw him, never. He could be a maneuvering swine, which no one ever realized. Now since the death he’s became Martin Luther Lennon. But that really wasn’t him either. He wasn’t some sort of holy saint. He was still really a debunker. “For ten years together he took my songs apart. He was paranoiac about my songs. We have great screaming sessions about them.

Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981

SALEWICZ: Oh, he was presumably very paranoid. PAUL: I think so. I mean, he warned me off Yoko once. You know, “Look, this is my chick!” ’Cause he knew my reputation. I mean, we knew each other rather well. And um, I felt… I just said, “Yeah, no problem.” But I did sort of feel he ought to have known I wouldn’t, but. You know, he was going through “I’m just a jealous guy”. He was a paranoid guy. And he was into drugs. Heavy.

September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London)

Miles says, “I think Jane was always a bit irritated by John. Because he was so acerbic and difficult to get on with. And paranoid. He didn’t make life easy. I suppose it’s a sort of rapier wit, but it was usually just plain ordinary rudeness. There was nothing special about it.”

Paul McCartney profile for FAME Magazine (March 1990)

“They [Lennon & McCartney] saw each other again in 1977. The Lennons and McCartneys ate dinner together at Le Cirque, Paul’s favourite French restaurant in New York. John regretted going; it was a loathsome night. Paul and Linda blathered on and on about how perfect their lives were, how they had everything they’d ever wanted, and how they were as happy as they’d ever been. Something very paranoid suddenly occurred to John. Maybe Lorraine Boyle was spying on him for the McCartneys! He woke up the next morning still feeling disturbed; he consulted the Oracle. Swan assured him that Paul and Linda were frustrated and unsatisfied. Their marriage was in trouble, he said, predicting it would break up within the year. Lately Swan’s visions had been astonishingly accurate. Relieved, John began composing a song—a little ditty, really, that would never be released��in praise of the Oracle’s powers. But he still couldn’t understand why Paul and Linda had been together for as long as they had. There appeared to be a psychic connection between John and Paul. Every time McCartney was in town, John would hear Paul’s music in his head.”

Robert Rosen, Nowhere Man: The Final Days of John Lennon, (2000)

JOHN: […..] And he’s (Jagger) goin’ on about “he never calls. Do you think he ever calls? He never calls me. And he keeps changing his phone number all the time… And he’s hiding behind the kid.” I was hurt by it! You know… The fact that… A, I never call anybody. It’s not pride, it’s just that I never, ever have. REPORTER: Why? JOHN: I never call the other Beatles, I never call anybody. They always call me. REPORTER: Why? JOHN: Cos I’m self-involved! I’m paranoid, too. I don’t like phones… There’s nobody on this earth ever got a call from me that isn’t related, probably. Or a very old friend…

Sept 1980 – John

“Yoko was an extremist and was even more intense than John taking any idea or comment of his to the limit. If, for example, he complained about any of his fellow Beatles she would hint that that Beatle had always been an enemy implying that John should never deal with that person again. Her extreme positions fascinated John and help him take his mind off himself but when she became self-involved and paranoid herself -her paranoia usually dealt with her career, her fame and the fact that even though she had always been famous everyone conspired to keep her from getting even more famous- he had no place to turn. His insecurity about his solo career, his childhood, his relationships with the other Beatles, the way the public perceived Yoko overwhelmed him and he became more and more involved with drugs.”

May Pang, Loving John (1984)

John was lucky. He got all his hurt out. I’m a different sort of a personality. There’s still a lot inside me that’s trying to work it out. And that’s why it’s good to see that wedding-funeral bit, because I started to think, ‘Wait a minute, this is someone who’s going over the top. This is paranoia manifesting itself.’ And so my feeling is just like it was at the time, which is like, He’s my buddy, I don’t really want to do anything to hurt him, or his memory, or anything. I don’t want to hurt Yoko. But, at the same time, it doesn’t mean that I understand what went down.

Paul McCartney: An Innocent Man? (October, 1986)

Some three year later, during the making of Abbey Road, Lennon installed a twin bed in the studio so that Yoko, recuperating from a car crash, could survey proceedings and pass comment though a mike he had suspended over her. The other Beatles positioned themselves around the room as best they could. Yoko would later tell Paul that if, for any reason, he’d seemed to be standing too close to her, all hell would break loose when John got her home. Lennon, she said, was ‘very paranoid’ like that.

McCartney by Chris Sandford

But we were actually quite supportive. Not supportive enough, you know; it would have been nice to have been really supportive because then we could look back and say, “Weren’t we really terrific?” But looking back on it, I think we were okay. We were never really that mean to them. But I think a lot of the time John suspected meanness where it wasn’t really there.

Paul McCartney, interview w/ Chris Salewicz for Musician: Tug of war – Paul McCartney wants to lay his demons to rest. (October, 1986)

I just read about this thing that’s going on sale at Sotheby’s – this Apple booklet with John’s comments in the margins in his own handwriting. It is so bitter. Like, there’s a picture of Paul and Linda’s wedding – and John’s crossed out “wedding” and written in “funeral.” I think it starts to tell there. Another caption says, “Paul goes to Hollywood” – and then he’s apparently written in the margin, “To cut Yoko and John out of the film.” He often thought that we were tryin’ to cut Yoko out of things, to cut her out of Let It Be. I suppose we were, in some degree; because she wasn’t in the Beatles, and it was a Beatles film, and it wasn’t absolutely necessary to have long footage of her in there. She certainly was in there, but obviously they felt she should be in there a little more. I bent over backward trying to see John’s point of view. I still bend over backward trying to not malign him.”

Paul McCartney, Rolling Stone, September 11th, 1986

[flowercrowngods]

in which steve takes el to see her first meteor shower

Steve is pulling up at the Hopper-Byers house around ten at night, hoping that El remembers their little date. Hoping even more that the Chief will let them do this.

The door opens before Steve so much as closes his car, and a very excited teenager already runs toward him, laughing when she crashes into his chest, the impact of which makes Steve stumble back against the car.

"Good evening to you, too, you little menace." He ruffles her hair, excited to see how long it's gotten again, a mop of wild curls.

"Hi," she says into his chest, hands hooked behind his back, and they just stand there and cuddle for a minute. The night air is refreshing after the day's boiling heat, and it's good to bask for a moment.

After a moment, Hopper appears in the front door, framed by the low light coming from inside, but even in the dark, Steve thinks he can make out the expression on the Chief's face. How he tries for stern, but can't quite manage it. Not when they've all been through so much.

"Hey, kid," he says, approaching the siblings where they are still hugging. "You looking to kidnap my daughter?"

"Yes, actually," Steve grins. "Will you let me?"

Hop gives a long-suffering sigh and places a hand on Steve's shoulder. "If there's one thing I've learned, Steve, it's that I can't stop you from anything you set your mind to. So I don't think I've much of a choice in the matter, let alone a say."

El chuckles and leans up to press a little kiss to Hopper's cheek. "Thanks, dad."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbles, and Steve snickers. "Get out of my sight, you two, but I expect to see you both at breakfast tomorrow."

"Eleven o'clock," Steve says in lieu of a groan, because he loves Sunday breakfast at the Hopper-Byers' place.

"Eight."

"Ten-thirty."

"Nine-thirty, last offer. Take it or leave it, boy."

"Deal," Steve grins, then turns back to El. "You ready to go?"

She nods. "Ready." Then turns back to Hop and gives him another kiss to the cheek and a quick hug. "Goodnight, dad."

"Have a good night, kid." As El bounds around the car to jump in on the other side, Hop turns to Steve, who's already moving in for a hug, too. "You, too. Be careful."

"Always. It's just stars, though."

"I know. Still."

"I know."

It's good. The hug. The worry. The way they care and talk and accept. Makes Steve think that it was all worth it, sometimes. Moments like this, under the stars. He gets to have this.

The Chief lets him to eventually and then they're speeding off. Steve is taking El to the weather top in the middle of the night, snacks and drinks and blankets in the back of his car. Because El has never seen a shooting star, let alone a meteor shower. And Steve is dead set to change that.

The other kids are gonna be so jealous when they hear that Steve and El went to watch the stars fall from the sky (well, not really, but that's what it looks like, and that's what Eddie weaves into his stories sometimes), but Steve doesn't care. This is for El. This is for the little girl, injured and weak and frightened, and for the boy who taught her the meaning of magic.

This is only for them.

They don't trek up to the real weather top, since it would be too exhausting of a trip, and too dangerous in the dark. Instead, Steve parks on the open field of a smaller hill that offers them a perfect, uninterrupted view of the sky. No trees, no houses, no excess light to bother them.

"Yeah, this is perfect," he mutters as he kills the engine.

They spread out the blanket together right beside the car, grabbing snacks and drinks and more blankets in case they get cold at some point. El immediately lies down and reaches for some cookies while Steve goes back to the car, putting on one of their favourite tapes. Kim Wilde's 1982 album. One of El's first ever favourite albums.

It makes Steve smile, especially when he hears the excited squeal when the first notes carry through the air.

He eventually settles beside her on the blanket, the music just loud enough to create a nice atmosphere in the otherwise quiet night, and Steve already feels like there's something incredibly special about this moment.

And then El gasps. "Steve," she whispers, pointing up at the sky above them.

He can see the last remnants of the shooting star that lit up the the night and, most importantly, El's face. She's gripping him now, frantically scanning the sky for more, and Steve chuckles, moving his arm in her grip enough to take her hand if that's what she wants.

"What was that?" she asks.

"A shooting star," Steve explains. "They're not real stars, though. There are rocks floating around in space, and sometimes the Earth will move through, like, a chain of them, and then they burn up when they enter the Earth's atmosphere. That's what makes them look like that. Pretty, right?"

She's nodding, refusing to take her eyes away from the sky, and Steve settles back, too, getting more comfortable on the blanket. It's not long before the next shooting star appears - a larger one this time, cutting through half the night sky before it disappears.

"Wow," El whispers beside him, and Steve wants to burst at that genuine wonderment in her eyes, her voice, the way she's squeezing his hand.

"You get to make a wish when you see a shooting star."

"A wish?"

"Yeah. But don't tell me. It has to be a secret wish, and then maybe it'll come true."

At that, El nods solemnly, always so damn serious, like wishing on a shooting star deserves to be treated with the utmost care and calculation. Maybe it does. Steve won't judge. It's not like El grew up with many serious opportunities to make a wish, let alone make it freely.

"Can I wish something for you?" she interrupts that particular train of thought, and Steve stops short, looking at her.

"You wanna wish something for me?" She nods. "What would you wish for me?"

She meets his eyes with a little frown. "It's secret."

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

"It's okay."

Oh, he wants to burst again. But he only squeezes her hand. "Yeah, I think you can wish something for me."

And then she only smiles, and Steve wants to know, wants to ask, wants to be seen just a bit less, wants to exist only between the stars and the wishes that El could have for him.

He closes his eyes, focusing only on her gasps, her hums, her chuckles, her little wows, and he smiles.

Later, he tells her about the constellations he remembers. Some he made up himself. Some that Eddie made up. His heart jumps a little at the thought of the metalhead he never thought to fall in love with. Eddie who loves the stars, who knows so many seafarer's tales about them, mythology that Steve doesn't know if it's genuine or if Eddie made it up. If he's writing his own mythology. Steve wouldn't put it past him.

It's long after midnight and silence has settled between them, both of them somewhere deep inside their own heads, yet anchored in the moment, together. It's serene.

Maybe it's that serenity that gets Steve talking.

"Hey El?"

"Yes?"

"I kissed Eddie."

She gasps again, but not because of a shooting star this time, and turns to face him. "You kissed Eddie?"

"Yeah." The smile is on his lips before he can even try to fight it, and he finds that he doesn't want to. "I was really scared to do it. But it was good. I think..."

"Yeah?"

Steve exhales slowly, seeking solace in El's hand, who immediately squeezes his again, her other hand coming up to run through his hair. A calming motion that never fails to ground him. El is the only one allowed to do this, the only one who does it right. "I think I might have fallen in love with Eddie."

She nods, smile on her face, and then falls forward, head landing on his chest. They don't really have a sense of personal space around each other and Steve loves it, combing through her hair now -- a motion that is just as calming.

"That was my wish."

"Come again?"

"My wish. My shooting star wish," she says, shuffling so she can look at him without moving from her spot. "I wished that you'd smile like you did when you told me you kissed Eddie. And if he makes you smile, he can stay."

"You'll allow it, huh?" Steve chuckles, but El is dead serious when she nods.

"I'll allow it."

And his chuckle turns a bit more genuine now, his lungs filling with the perfection of this moment. He has people that are fiercely protective of him. He has a pretty boy willing to kiss him that he doesn't have to share with those people yet. He has the stars above, willing to grant wishes despite the horrors they know he's seen. And he has El.

In a way, it's really all he could wish for.

El stays the night at Steve's, though he has to carry her inside from his car and wake her like he used to. They share a bed like they used to, and in the morning she'll wear his clothes like she used to.

It's good. It's perfect. And when they arrive for breakfast at ten, Hopper doesn't even call them out on being late when he sees the happy, content smiles on their faces. He just very discreetly kicks Steve's butt, but he had that coming.

[gracev0609]

Young in the Night

Josh Kiszka X Reader

Journey back in time to 1982, to an Alternate Universe where Josh is at the epicenter of debauchery and excess. Josh is an entertainer at the hottest new thing on the block, Chippendales, the place for women to drool and ogle.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI, Adult Themes, Drug Use (cocaine), Explicit Sex.

Tugging your cropped leather jacket closer to your torso as you wait in line, your skimpy outfit is not doing much to block the chill from the cool evening air. You gazed up at the neon sign through your teased bangs. The summer of 1982 was coming to an end and you were standing in line with your best friend Marie at the hottest thing in the city of Los Angeles for women, Chippendales.

“Do you think the dancers actually kiss the girls?,” Marie asked leaning in.

“That's what I've heard!,” you giggled, silently hoping to receive a kiss yourself.

The line moved up until you were in front of the doorman. Butterflies erupt in your stomach as you stand in front of the door, uncertain in what lies ahead.

“Alright, you're next! Have a good time ladies!”

The heavy door opened and you were met with colorful lights and the hottest music playing, hundreds of seats sitting around a lit stage. Over on one side was a bar, the first sight you were set on. Grabbing Marie's hand you drug her with, eager to get a tequila sunrise on your hands.

You exchanged cash for your cocktails and went to find a seat, surprisingly you found two in the front row, being the second group to be let inside. The seating was filling up fast, from front seats to back.

The club started to fill and the lights got low, Marie gripped onto your forearm,” Oh I think it's starting!”

A man came out onto the stage, black dress pants, suspenders and no shirt,” Good evening ladies! My name is Mark, and I'll be your host tonight! Welcome to Chippendales, you're in for a night of hunky splendor!”

A tall tan man with blonde hair graced the stage, he was dancing around in the smallest shorts you had ever seen, a collared bowtie around his neck, and little cufflinks around his wrists like wrist bands. It was a play on the playboy bunny, but it worked. He shimmied and shaked working the crowd. You laughed as Marie reached out for him, waving a dollar bill around like a flag,” He's so cute!”

You thought he was an attractive man undoubtedly, but he didn't really do it for you.

He wiggled his way over to where the two of you sat, his hips gyrating in Marie's face.

“Hi sweetheart, do you wanna kiss?” He leaned over Marie as she nodded her head and you watched in awe as they locked lips like passionate lovers.

He pulled away and strutted around the stage, Marie looked at you with red rosy cheeks,” Oh my god!”

The crowd was roaring and your ears were practically ringing, the host speaks into the microphone again,” That was the Perfect Man ladies! Let's give him a huge thank you!”

The women around you went wild as you clapped, not quite understanding what they all saw in him. He was just a man, cute, but just a man. You could admit that the energy in the room was electric and you couldn't help but get swept up in the fun of it all. Mostly naked men parading around showing off their bodies and family jewels, it was drool worthy.

You watched a few more of the acts, some of the men had themes and costumes, some of them came out in pants and stripped down to speedos or g strings.

The host grabbed the mic once again,” Alright sweethearts, I present to you, our next act, an angel in disguise, Joshua!”

Out he came strutting the stage like he owned it, he was clad in the tiniest g string he could get away with, the infamous collared bow tie, and a pair of devil horns nestled into his funky curly mullet. You were instantly captivated by the interesting man. You studied his build, he was small, but toned. He looked strong, though not as strong as others you've seen tonight. Most of his skin was on display, the gleam of the stage lights made his oiled skin shine. The more he danced around to the music the more you became enamored with him. The jiggle of his butt as he strutted up to the audience on the other side of the stage forced you to ogle him.

Reaching into your clutch grabbing your dollar bills you leaned into Marie,” I don't know if I've ever seen a man have more ass!”

He swayed his hips, moving to the side of the stage you were at. When he stopped directly in front of you, his barely clothed package inches away from your face, a deep blush rose on your cheeks.

He squatted down so you were face to face, plucking the dollar from your fingers. Your breath caught in your throat as you really saw his face, he had the biggest softest brown eyes, a perfect white smile, and rosy red cheeks. He was slightly sweaty from gyrating around on stage, but that just added to his sex appeal.

Josh bit his lip before releasing it, his bottom lip plump and slick. Purring he crooned,” Hi Angel. D’ya want a kiss?”

You've never wanted a kiss from a man in devil horns more, nodding your head you leaned in and slipped your hands into his curls at the nape of his neck. When his soft pink lips met yours you almost swore you felt a spark of electricity, but that could be the tequila sunrise talking. You felt his tongue lick across your bottom lip, and tingles shot to your core. Easily you opened up for the performer, moaning lightly when his tongue danced with yours.

The kiss kept going on and on. The music kept playing, the girls kept screaming , and Josh kept kissing you. He had your jaw gripped in his hand, and yours traveled down the length of his torso, squeezing his pecs before landing on his hips. The elastic of his g string resting at your fingertips. You kept thinking that now was when he was going to disconnect from you, but if anything he leaned into you more. The kissing went on for so long that Mark the host came back on over the speakers,” Okay Joshua, angel in disguise, your time has ended! Wrap up your act!”

Josh finally ended the kiss,” If ya wanna go home with me, wait for me after the show.”

🎀🎀🎀

The club lights came up and the women started emptying out, the show was over but the bar was still active. You turned to Marie,” I'm gonna go home with him! I'll call you when I get home okay!”

“Okay babe! I'll leave the phone cord plugged in tonight so I hear the call!”

You hugged her goodbye and sat back down in your seat, sipping on a fresh tequila sunrise. It took you a second to recognize the man who had now come to stand in front of you, it was Joshua, but he was wearing clothes now. He had on white sneakers, light wash blue jeans, and a blue short sleeve button up, unbuttoned of course. “Hi Angel. I see you've made up your mind.”

“Hi Joshua. I did make up my mind.”

He grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet,”Please call me Josh.”

He laces your fingers together and leads you out the front door of the club.

“I don't live far!” He squeezed your hand in his as you walked shoulder to shoulder on the LA sidewalk.

“I really enjoyed the show Josh! Your act especially,” You beamed,” It was my first time at Chippendales!”

He smiles down at you, this time you notice a slight gap between his front teeth,” I'm so glad Angel.”

“My name is Y/N, just so you know.”

One side of his smile quirks up,” Y/N…. I think I prefer Angel for tonight.”

You blushed feeling butterflies in your stomach.

Soon you arrived at his front door, you stood behind him as he fished the keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door.

Feeling your eyes widen in surprise, he must be making a lot of money from the club. His home had beautiful new modern furniture. He led you to his couch before pulling you into his lap. Your skirt rode up your hips and you straddled his thighs, your lips connecting again. Josh wasted no time running his hands up and down your body, his light touches making your nipples harden under your shirt.

Your hands wander his soft torso once against, and he leans in and kisses up your neck nibbling at your ear.

“Want some blow?” Josh cooes breathlessly.

Nerves bubble in your stomach, you've done it before, at a club with Marie.

“Just a bump.”

“Mmhmm.”

Josh lightly nips at the skin of your neck before lifting your shirt off your body, your bare breasts bouncing in his face.

“Heavenly” he breathes, placing your nipple in his hot waiting mouth. Back arching into his touch you moan his name. You grind your hips down into his hard on, making him moan out too.

Panting he disconnected from your chest and leans down, his hand placed on your back supporting your weight as he bends.

He retries a glass tray, blade and a baggie of white powder.

You wiggle your hips in his lap as he prepares your indulgence.

“God I'm so hard. Have you ever had sex on this? It's incredible.”

“I haven't, I've only taken it in the club.”

You hear the metal blade scraping on glass,” Are you sure you just want a bump? You can have more if you want more.”

You turn in his grasp to look at the tray, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit.

“I’ll do a line with you.” You whisper rocking your hips into him.

Josh kisses your cheek before separating the substance into two lines. He picks up the tray, placing it in your hands to hold as he gets the straw. Holding it to his face he leans down and inhales. Lifting his head his eyes flutter closed as his nose scrunches. After a few seconds he opens them, handing you the straw and taking the glass tray so you can partake. Leaning down you mirror his actions, also scrunching your nose at the uncomfortable feeling.

He places the paraphernalia back on the coffee table in front of him, and grabs your hips pulling them down onto his aching cock. Losing your patience you climb off of him and discard the rest of your clothing.

“Eager are we baby?” Josh chuckles following suit and removing his jeans and underwear. Feeling the effects of the blow your jaw drops at the sight of his cock. It's pretty. He's thick and pulsing, the head flushed a deep red. Your slick threatening to drip down your thigh, you place yourself back into his lap. His cock slips in between your wet folds as you grind his head against your clit.

Throwing his head back he moans,” God your pussy's just drenching me.”

After a few more minutes of grinding he's begging you to let him in. You grab him hot in your hand and line him up with your entrance.

‘Go slow Angel, stretch that tight cunt for me.”

The feeling of him in you was indescribable, euphoria tingling within your body. He felt so good. After a few minutes of bouncing he lifted you off of him.

“Wanna switch, put your ass up for me.”

You did as you were told, leaning your forearms down onto his green couch. He shuddered when he ran the tip of his cock through your slick again. You were so turned on you weren't sure if you had ever been so wet, it was all over your thighs.

Softly he nudges his way back in you, his sensitive head nestled against your g spot. His hips drive forward and you yelp at the sensation. Everything is so intense and pleasurable, you weren't sure if you'd ever had sex this good before. With his rhythmic push and pull of his cock against your special spot you felt that familiar feeling bubbling up in your stomach.A man had never made you cum before, especially not with just his cock.

“Josh, I'm getting close. I'm - I'm gonna cum.”

“Cum for me Y/N. Fuck, do I wanna feel it.”

You were in disbelief at how alive this sinful specimen of a man could make you feel.

Your high came crashing down on you as you clenched and fluttered around his cock. You gushed and gushed as he abused your insides.

You could hear grunts of praise as he fucked you through it,” Angel. I'm gonna cum. Are you on the pill baby?”

“Uhhuh!”

“Can I cum inside love?”

“Please Josh, ruin me!”

He gripped your hips even tighter, pounding into your tight heat. You felt him get even harder, swelling inside of you before spurting his warm cum painting your insides.

“Fuck! Fuck I'm still cumming,” he gasps out.

You could feel him throbbing and twitching pumping out small dribbles of cum as his orgasm dwindled.

Once he catches his breath he pulls out gently. You stay still propped up on your arms and knees .

“Just sit down love, we already ruined the upholstery.”

You chuckled, settling back down on the cushions, you laid your head on Josh's shoulder as you came down from all of your highs.

Josh pulls you into his body, eager for some skin to skin contact, “Oh to be young in the night, huh?”