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cockasinthebird · 4 years ago

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Now I don’t know if you take requests, but If you do here’s an idea. What about Steve being the King Steve he was, but he’s very slutty one and lets guys fuck him a lot. He would be such a tease to Billy at a party, grind his ass on Billy’s cock on purpose while they’re dancing, because he really wants this hot Cali boy to fuck him senseless already and that’s exactly what happens when Billy finally makes his move and fucks Steve somewhere away from other peoples eyes (Wow this got long sorry!)

Dearest anon, Don’t ever feel the need to apologise for such a long message, especially not one as grand as this!!! Here you go, just grazing 9 pages with the last line, so this is long yes, and I will “warn” you that there’s an excessive amount of dirty talking, at least to my standards, and a bit rough play, but nothing severe of course. Enjoy!

Another Saturday, another unsupervised party in the distant Harrington Mansion, music pulsating so vividly that Billy swears he can feel it through the soles of his heavy boots as he walks between cars parked on the grass.

It doesn't take a fool to know that the high and mighty King Steve has issues with the solitude his house brings, nestled between grand trees, so distant from the rest of the town that there's never once been a noise complaint. That he has issues with the lack of parental attention, and instead seeks to fill the emptiness of his house with his loyal subjects; particularly his bed.

Which might be why Billy always shows up, or maybe not, but who's to tell. Everyone's always at these parties filled with alcohol that Daddy Harrington pays for unknowingly, so it would be weird if Billy wasn't here, too, right? At least he's content with thinking so.

Billy knows loneliness like Steve does, seeks the cure for it just as well, finding brief notions of it when he's got his dick buried in any hole really, his body flooded with liquor, his head pounding to the beat of shitty synth.

So here he is, looking for a saving grace, to have another night filled with sweaty, writhing bodies, stepping through the front door to King Steve's castle once again; having stopped counting how many times around 20.

Just like last week, there's people everywhere – every single junior and senior that knows what's good can be found here, perhaps even a few older drunkards that has nothing better to do in this shit hole town than to crash a high school party.

And just like each and every other time, it's overwhelming in the best possible way. All senses gets fulfilled the second he's completely inside;

Sweaty bodies bumping shoulders as he squeezes his way through the hall, guys patting his shoulders, girls bashing their eyes, and he can't help but grin all smooth and charming at the attention.

Tight jeans and short skirts, bulging muscles and exposed cleavages, all so pleasing to his wandering eyes as his peers twists and turns to ensure he sees it all.

Through the music he can barely hear it when one girl says, “Looking good, Billy,” or when a guy leans in to ask, “Can I get you a drink?” as he makes it into one of the living rooms.

With every breath he takes, a wild and intrusive mixture of perfumes and colognes and deodorants fills his lungs to completion, cheap and expensive alike, and it brings him to life.

All there's left now, is to taste a nice, cold beer, and his soul will be satiated, the checklist for a good party completed, and the festivities could truly begin. But when he turns in to the kitchen, it isn't the giant fridge he focuses on, or the girls passing by, giving him all kinds of bedroom eyes, or the impressive array of chips on display on the kitchen island.

No he sees the host immediately, Steve Harrington, leaning with his back to the wall. His jeans sit a bit more snug than usual, and his tee a bit higher up; not exactly a crop-top per se, but just short enough to expose a gorgeous, wiry trail of hair dipping beneath his pants.

His face is turned towards Tommy Hagan who stands awfully close for that to just be a friendly conversation, and there's no doubt in Billy's mind what they're talking about, if the way Steve's eyes sliding up and down is any indication, or the way he bites into his lower lip.

There is no hiding why Steve is so popular, or why he remains on the top even though Billy managed to beat his keg stand record with ease. Hadn't been any hiding the way Steve leered at him at Tina's Halloween party either.

The first week in Hawkins Billy had caught Steve twice doing the most salacious things, that Billy to this day, 7 long months later, still think about daily.

Steve, on his knees in the showers of the boys locker room one Monday after practice, probably nearly drowning under the water with his mouth wide and stretched around some teammates cock. Even now Billy can recall the way he was moaning and gagging passionately; hears it louder in his mind than the music of the party.

Steve, underneath the bleachers during third period, skipping class to fuck hard into some blonde bitch who struggled to keep quiet as she stood bent forward, arms wrapped around one of the supporting beams for the seats above. And he can still see Steve's lewd expression as he caught Billy staring, Steve's mouth slipping into a sly smirk, eyes dark and heavy as he kept their gazes locked, cumming with the most enticing groan.

Of course that wasn't the last time he saw Steve like that.

Sometimes Steve was the one bent over, against a tree or knees in the grass. Billy has passed by that brown BMW bouncing and wiggling by the side of the road indiscreetly plenty of times. And at almost every party he's attended, he's watched Steve go in and out of rooms with anyone really.

One time he followed along, peeked in through the crack in the door, and watched from start to finish as Steve laid on his back on a desk, hands firmly around his neck, some dude balls deep inside of him.

But with one blink, Steve turns his head and looks directly at Billy, as if he knew the other was watching. And he tilts his head aside, allowing for Tommy to kiss and suck his way down the exposed neck, Steve's lips parting from the smile into something more comfortable.

Billy keeps staring, intently. Walks to the fridge, blindly reaches in to grab what he's hoping is a beer can, then leans against the counter; scarcely ever blinking as to not miss a single second of the show.

And it is ardently clear that Steve enjoys having an audience, enjoys performing. Eyes heavy on Billy, Steve lifts up his right hand in a slight fist, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as he simulates giving a blowjob.

Something which Billy can't help but snort at for some reason, despite how the suggestion courses through him rapidly, and Steve seems to find that equally as humorous, as he laughs quietly.

He then grabs Tommy by the chin and guides him off of his sensitive neck. Steve says something that might sound like, “Not tonight,” which wipes Tommy's lustful grin right off. And when Steve looks towards Billy, Tommy's gaze follows right along, and now the freckled guy looks downright pissed off.

Billy stares with a strong intensity, daring him to try anything, as Tommy walks right by with a clear scowl, jaw tense and hands curled by his sides. But he manages to make his way out the kitchen without as much as a word.

When Billy turns to look for Steve again, he finds him standing right by his side, hip against the counter.

“Hi,” Steve purrs.

“Hey,” Billy says and lifts up his beer to take a sip, but Steve is quick to snatch it from his hand, to then drink from it slowly, eyes locked together.

Steve gives a little satisfied hum and licks his lips clean, a gesture that at this short distance sparks inside of Billy's chest, lighting him up.

“What's his problem?” Billy asks and nods in the direction of where Tommy had marched off. “Thought he was dating that Perkins girl.” He tries to play it cool, pretend he's above knowing who's who here, despite the fact that Carol has flirted with him enough times to need more than two hands to count on.

“Him and Carol loves to play this little game where they flirt with others at parties, get all excited at the thought of being unfaithful, then find a place to bang it out.” Steve offers Billy what's left of his beer, which is less than a half, and much less than what Billy needs to keep somewhat calm right now.

“So you and Tommy never...” he trails off, hoping that the insinuation is clear enough.

And judging by the way Steve smiles something so suggestive might just be enough of an answer, yet he says, “Wouldn't you like to know?” And watches how Billy's mouth opens to take a sip.

Neither of them talks as he empties the can. Billy watches how Steve is almost admiring the view; the bob of his Adam's apple, the way his shirt is unbuttoned nearly all the way, the tight fit of his jeans. And Billy wants to say something, a slight quip about enjoying the view, or if he sees something he likes, but it's redundant, because who doesn't like what they see when they look at Billy Hargrove, Keg King.

The tense silence between them gets interrupted, when some drunk girl shouts, “Steve!”

She's got dark hair, a low cut blouse, and an impossibly tight leather skirt. Pretty enough, Billy would say, but he can't remember her name; too many cows around here for him to bother learning what they're all called. It's only important that they know his name, yet it's Steve she calls for and reaches out to grab his hand.

“Steve come on,” she coos and sways even when standing still, “You owe me a dance for doing your essay!”

Steve doesn't resist when she starts pulling him along, just turns to Billy with a certain grin, and says lowly, “Duty calls.”

Admittedly, Billy is kinda impressed with just how easy it is for Steve, or rather, how easy Steve is.

And maybe he spends the next hour thinking about that, as he walks the party with a fresh beer in hand and a searching gaze, always keeping a lookout for where the host might have sneaked off to.

When he stops by the dining table to assist in a victory of beer pong, he's thinking about how often he's seen Steve in compromising positions, rarely ever with the same person twice in a row, but always with such a euphoric expression.

Or when he's standing with a gaggle of girls, charming his way into their hearts, and hopefully their panties, he's thinking about how Steve pays others to do his homework with the pleasure of his company, and how Billy got an A on his history test last week, and how he knows that Steve struggles with that especially.

And when he walks into the other living room that has been designated as a dance floor it seems, he's thinking about that happy trail being exposed whenever Steve raises his arms too high, the way his hair moves fluidly along with the motion of Steve's lively expression, the way his hips goes from side to side in rhythm to the music, and the way his grin twists something so delicious when almond eyes catch angelic blues staring.

Without missing a beat, Steve prances through the crowd; the flow of his body uninterrupted and damn near beautiful as he makes his way to still before Billy's motionless stature, and they share similar smiles as Billy looks at Steve with hooded eyes and something darkening the calm skies in his eyes, tongue out to wet his grin and Steve's appetite.

You Spin Me Round plays louder than Billy's thoughts, and Steve turns his back to him, dancing, arms up, making the shirt expose his dimples of Venus, and Billy finds himself wanting to grab on to the swaying hips, press his thumbs into where the skin dips in the small of Steve's back.

Billy's not much of a dancer himself, but he still sways slightly to the song, shoulders pumping to the rhythm of the least detestable song that's been played so far tonight. All the while he stares at Steve putting on quite the sweaty, twisting, swirling show, and it wouldn't be hard to believe that it is all for the enjoyment of Billy only, despite how others occasionally shoot jealous glares at the pair of them.

He doesn't even notice it when Steve takes a step closer, having once stood a respectable distance away, now so close that Billy can smell perfume on him; whether it's Steve who's gone diving in his mothers drawers, or from girls having been all over him tonight, is an uncertain factor, but he smells good. And perhaps Billy takes a step forward, the movement of Steve enchanting, but the Keg King would absolutely deny it. Deny that there's someone in town who can so easily bewitch him with barely any effort. Deny that he's not in control of this attraction no more than magnets are to metal.

But when there's contact between them as Steve accidentally grazes against Billy with his ass, it becomes increasingly difficult to sustain plausible deniability, and his salacious little smirk falls. And as Steve continues to flow with the rhythm, he meets with Billy's crotch again, this time with more accuracy- more force, and Billy chokes back a, “Fuck,” that wouldn't have been heard no matter what here. When it happens again and again and again, Billy feels heat drain down to pool near his gut, and with every timid grind against his swelling flesh, it ripples through him, like rain breaking surface tension, a fever pulsating.

And this time he takes a definite step forth, pressing himself into Steve's confident movement, who pushes back against him, hips circling around, plump cheeks pressing deliberately into the noticeable bulge now, and although Billy can't see Steve's face, he would bet money on how he's undoubtedly smiling at the attention.

Enough is soon enough, and Billy grabs on to Steve's hips with near brutish force, stopping the irritatingly erratic motion and pulls him as close as possible, so that hopefully Steve can feel just how hard he is.

He leans forward, lips at the shell of Steve's ear, as he growls, “If you don't stop what you're doing, I won't be able to hold back.”

Steve turns his head as far as he can, ass flush with Billy's trapped erection, and shows just how eager he is for that little promise; mouth not turned up in a smile, but hanging wide open as he pants out, “Then don't.” Honeyed eyes drowning in black, lashes fluttering as he gives a tentative roll of his hips, causing Billy to lurch forward, grinding into the friction with a stuttering notion.

Behind a locked door, Steve's desk slams against the wall as he lands on it, Billy shoving at him, tearing off his shirt and dipping down to kiss rudely and bite along the exposed shoulder. Steve with his legs spread wraps them around Billy's firm hips and draws him closer to feel just how eager he is, too, as if the way he's moaning wasn't enough proof of that.

Steve yanks at golden hair to guide Billy up for a desirous meeting of lips, when Billy pulls away to hiss out, “You taste like pussy,” almost in wonder.

“Didn't think you'd mind that,” Steve chuckles then drives his slick tongue into Billy's mean mouth, feels how he sucks it all in, groaning at the mix of spit and booze and pussy that lingers. “How you want me, big boy?”

It takes Billy a second to understand he's being spoken to, as alcohol and his own unadulterated lust mixes in his system, making him grind all animalistic into the spread of Steve's thighs, like a fucking dog humping a leg.

“On your stomach, in bed,” he breathes out wetly and licks his lips to savor what's left of Steve there.

With a hand spread out onto his chest, Steve pushes Billy away, so that he can move off of the desk and step around the hulking, panting stature of Billy's burning hot body. There's a not-so-subtle chime of Steve's belt, his zipper going down a joyous melody, and honestly Billy shouldn't be this surprised to find out that Steve is going commando tonight, and perhaps he always is.

Billy doesn't move at first, paralyzed by the gorgeous curve of Steve's naked ass, how long and perfect his dick is, and he understands now why girls flock to him the way they do. Each and every mole across pale, lean skin the landmarks of a treasure map guiding you down between his legs.

And Steve crawls on to the bed, his knees just on the edge of the mattress, his back turned to Billy still, and he bends over, cheeks spread to expose his tight hole. Moves his right hand down between spread legs where his leaking erection hangs lonely, starts stroking it with slow pulls that brings out fresh moans, while his left hand goes past parted lips; two fingers knuckle deep as he sucks on them, tongue slipping between to get them proper wet and dripping.

“I want you so bad, Billy,” he whines once he's removes his fingers from his mouth. Leads them behind himself, presses both inside with ease, voice stuttering as he pumps them in and out. “Every since I saw you at Tina's party, ahh, when you knocked me off my throne, beat my keg stand record- fuck-” Fingers speed up for a moment, then slows down again, teasing himself- teasing Billy. “I've- I've never felt so defeated, so... alive.”

Billy feels his underwear stick where he's leaking, untouched, but the performance that of a lifetime, and fuck he wishes he had a camera – convinced Steve would be into that, into being filmed like this. He's heard rumors about certain Polaroid pictures circulating school, but he hasn't had the chance to see yet, although that only makes this all the more sweeter, to see King Steve in all his glory afresh.

He tugs his shirt off over his head, unbuckles and unzips, moving closer with a hand down to massage his painful, throbbing cock. Knows that Steve is watching him as he leers at his entrance begging for more, clenching something so unsatisfied at his own two fingers. Without warning, Billy slicks up his own fingers with spit and plunges them inside along with Steve's own two digits.

“Fuck, ahh!” Steve cries out and arches his back, “Your fingers are so thick.”

At a pace set by Billy, they dive in and out, stretching him together, and Billy sees it fit to spit right on him, lubing him up a bit more and moves faster as he intently listens to how Steve is moaning and calling out for more, harder, deeper.

“Jesus Harrington, you're so fucking insatiable...” Billy looks down at where Steve's eyes are closed tightly, knitted with pleasure, mouth wide open to let out all these delicious noises. “Such a slut,” Billy drawls, and is convinced that Steve's ass clenches a bit tighter at that word. Slut. “So hungry for my fat cock, huh?”

“Yeah,” Steve whines and nods profusely, opening his eyes finally to catch cold waters meeting his gaze immediately. “Please,” he begs.

And as Billy pulls out his fingers, so does Steve, who brings both hands down to clutch at the bed sheets, his breathing shaky with anticipation, his prick drooling all over the blue covers.

“Lube and condoms in the top drawer, there,” he pants and points to the bedside table.

Where Billy is quick to yank it open and grabs both in one hand; his other continuously stroking himself through the trunks that are suffocating him, knowing that if he didn't keep that barrier of fabric in place, he'd blow far too soon from just the sight of Steve being so damn horny and needy.

“Can't wait to fill you up so good, princess,” he huffs as he slips on the condom.

Steve shakes his ass in a taunting manner with a lazy smile, and Billy can't help but laugh lightly at it, then brings his hand across one cheek, and-

“A-ah!” Steve moans out and presses his face deeper into the duvet.

And the grin that cracks across Billy's handsome features is awfully telling.

“I'm gonna fuck you so hard, baby, you won't be able to walk or sit straight for month,” he growls and licks his lips. “When I'm done with you, no other guy in Hawkins will be able to make you cum as good, won't satisfy you the same way I do.”

The cap of the lube pops open, and Billy slicks up two fingers, then promptly pushes them inside to lather Steve's ass up, who whines impatiently and moves his hips against the broad digits.

“Please, Billy,” voice all pathetic, “Just fuck me already.”

“Mmm patience,” Billy coos as he removes himself again, “Don't wanna hurt you by going in too dry.”

He covers his steely erection in a spirited amount of lube, excessively so as he strokes himself through the condom, and then goes to line up with Steve's fluttering hole, gasping, aching to be full. Pushes inside with nary a hint of kindness, bottoming out in one headlong swoop, leaving Steve moaning out long, and Billy grabs on with both hands to quell all motion between them, as he revels in how tight Steve is, how he's sucking him in.

“Oh fuck, Billy,” Steve keens and tries to move, but stern hands keeps him locked in place. “You're so big.”

“Yeah, I know,” Billy chuckles out like rumbling thunder in his chest.

Hands move off of Steve's hips to go grab two fistfuls of soft ass, where he spreads the cheeks as far apart as they can go, as to get a good and proper look at how his girthy cock is sunk deep inside, watches how the rim clench around him with a hunger to be thoroughly fucked. And at a pace menacingly slow, Billy pulls out, feels how every muscle clings to him like he's the most important thing in the world right now, and Steve whines as if it's true, too.

He keeps his stare there, watching with great interest as he moves till just his fat head remains inside, then shoves right back in, receiving the most vivid and alluring cry of his name from Steve's pretty pink lips.

“Billy- fuck, ah-” Steve moans with no inhibition as Billy sets a brutal pace of pulling out just to snap his hips back against Steve's exposed ass.

Skin slaps louder than the music downstairs, accompanied well by the squelching of Steve's dripping wet hole and his lascivious singing of praises and curses; the bed concurring with slight creaks. Steve arches his back in the most gorgeous curve, a pose with his plump ass raised with such expertise it shows just how often he's found himself like this, yet still calls out as if it's his first.

“Shit, princess, harrh, for being such a slut you sure keep tight,” Billy groans out as he slams his veiny cock into the most fantastic velvet heat.

A warmth that stirs perfectly at the base of his dick, waves of it washing down his thighs as he continues to chase his own high with the most ferocious will.

He bends forward, driving himself as deep as physically possible, and brings one hand down onto the back of Steve's neck, squeezing and pressing him into the bed.

“Yes- yes! Ah-” Steve croons like a bitch in heat, eyes rolling back, hands seeking for something to grab on to.

And Billy barks a laugh at how lost Steve becomes, how indignant and uncontrolled his voice becomes.

“You like it rough, huh bitch?” Billy growls like a wild hound, baring his canines and licking across the sharpness there, his thrusts rapid. “Like it when a real man fucks you?”

“Yes,” Steve chokes out, oh so pliant and dazed.

“Mmnh, hah, feel so good inside baby, sucking me in- my thick cock splitting you open.” Billy grazes his teeth across where he can reach on Steve's shoulder.

The response a whine, high pitched and erotic, and Steve reaches for himself-

But his wrist is quickly grabbed by Billy's other hand, pinning it above Steve's head; now most of Billy's heavy body weight pressing onto his neck, and his body tenses tighter.

“Fuck, ah,” Billy grunts as he feels muscles clasp around him like a vice. “Why don't you show me how beautiful you look cumming on my dick alone?”

“Billy,” Steve moans in a telling way of how close he is, and of how helpless he is. “I'm- I'm close-”

“Yeah you are.” Billy grins and bucks his hips all cruel and ruthless; wants Steve to remember this, to maybe be a bit sore after, cheeks red and ass puffy, throat sore from overuse. Want hims to know that absolutely no one else is ever going to make him nearly scream like this. “You're such an easy little whore, Stevie.”

“I am, ah- shit-” Steve admits readily, mumbles something more in agreeance, but all Billy can make out is his own name being called for again and again in tandem with his girthy cock hitting all the right spots.

It barely takes more than that before Steve's cumming; shooting hot and white all over his expensive sheets, body tensing up to a choking point that pulls Billy closer, the tightness unparalleled by any pussy he's ever been this deep in.

“Fuck that's hot,” his voice dripping with lust thick as honey.

“Don't- don't stop, please,” Steve's voice barely there, fucked out and hoarse, body going limp as he whines at the delicious overstimulation.

“Oh yeah, pretty boy? Want me to-” Billy gasps as he can barely manage words as he slams hard against Steve's worn ass, desperately clenching around him, and he stands up fully, plants his feet and digs his nails into fleshy hips. “-Want me to use you? Like a fucking toy?”

“Yes! Yes, Billy, fuck me-”

The wet slapping of skin in perfect harmony with Steve moaning a whole ballad, brings Billy to his blinding climax, forcing a stutter to his hips as he slams home hard enough for Steve to move up the bed, and he calls out with no restraint as his throbbing cock pulsates and kicks; draining him of all heat and energy into the condom buried deep in Steve's desirous hole.

As adrenaline seeps out, exhaustion comes in and he slumps forward, shoving at Steve's shoulder to keep him in place as he twitches and goes soft. Chest heaving, curls sticking to his neck and forehead, thighs sore from a good days work. He rubs the space between Steve's shoulder blades with a firm thumb, who hums pleasantly between equally exhausted pants.

But Billy has to pull out, takes off the condom and ties it neatly, before collapsing next to Steve on the bed.

And Steve rolls on to his side, rests his warm palm on sweaty pecks, smiling all satisfied and admiring the view of Billy's spent dick. “You did good, tiger... think you can go another round?”

Billy snorts abruptly – he can barely keep his eyes open right now. “Are you serious?”

Steve climbs right on top of him, landing with his own impressive cock side by side with Billy's vastly shorter, but definitely thicker, dick. He rocks back and forth all lazy like, sighing with a definite promise of more.

But Billy winces with a sharp inhale and reaches down to stop the motion of those pale hips on top. “Fuck- stop! I'm spent, go find some other hole to fulfill your needs.”

“Hmm...” Steve thinks about something, but climbs off never the less. “I'm gonna give you fifteen minutes, and if you're still to weak after that I can easily find someone else.”

He's quick to get dressed again, leaving Billy to feel, yes, weak and perhaps a bit piteous, sprawled out on King Steve's bed, a mess of sweat next to a pool of semen, yet Steve steps up to him and leans down.

“But,” he coos softly and smiles just so, “If you ever want to do this again, or something else, I can make room for you in my busy schedule.”

And Steve kisses Billy on the lips, making the poorer guy immediately desire more, but as Steve pulls away again, Billy continues to feel defeated and impossibly exhausted.

The last thing he notices before dozing off is the bedroom door closing.

#Harringrove #Lemon #My Writing #request #Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #Anonymous

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comebeonetwothree · 3 years ago

Text

Blog #6: Coast to Coast

6/29/2021

The homeland of the rich, the famous, and the homeless junkies of Los Angeles, California will always have my heart.

With my first near death experience, I have come to see life in a new light… YOLO!

Remember that term? Yah, it was one of those fads that had meaning to it but no longer holds a place in fashion... thank god.

Everything on this coast is slow, even the way people talk is dragged out. No one J-walks here. They seriously wait for that little white man to pop up on the cross walks before walking, even if there is not a car in sight.

Yet everyone here has a serious addition to coffee.

Hangovers are even more dragged because everyone is so uber healthy here, they straight up do not have greasy food.

I made the mistake of ordering an egg and cheese, knowing it’ll only be a disappointment compared to a New York BEC. It was beyond disappointing, especially being hungover as fuck.

Everyone here is stoned all the time and have been for years. I truly believe the whole city moves so slow because everyone is high all the time.

No wonder they can survive with the shitty food- they are too high to realize.

They do have some fire weed here, so it makes sense, but damn… they are so slow and ditsy.

There is so much art here, from music, to painting, to theater, to creativity, everyone comes here with a dream. Some make their dreams come true, others end up addicted to crack, but everyone originally came here in hopes of making something of themselves.

That energy runs through the streets, it is so lively and so filled with hope. It is truly an inspiring place to live.

Who

Who have you become…

The people on the west coast are just genuinely nicer. We had a conversation that consisted of outrageous hand gestures with a random man in his car.

He had blocked an intersection accidently so I couldn’t make a left turn, where he then proceeded to see me raging about it and trying to mouth to us how sorry he was. We straight up had a conversation with this guy and were joking around while waiting for the light. We left mouthing, “We are from New Yorkk, move outta the way” as a joke, and he just understood and left us with a peace sign.

There is a surplus of homelessness here, and it is sad to see but also so interesting to watch them set up communities on the sides of highways and all along the beach.

There is never just one homeless dude posted up under a cardboard box. It’s always 15+ people posting up together in nice ass tents they probably stole or making cardboard houses with tarps for extra coverage.

They get super creative with their homelessness; it is fascinating to watch.

This one guy was zipping down the road in what looked like a decked-out bike, with high handlebars and a motor. He was moving with traffic and was looking cool while doing it.

As he got closer, we realized his get-up was made from an ironing board he bent into a seat, a plastic crate holding up the ironing board to a lime scooter he probably stole a month prior. Topping it off, he added tall handlebars for that 70s badass look. That man mastered one man’s trash, into another man’s treasure.

The saddest part is knowing majority of them came out here looking for their big break and got so hooked on drugs, they could never make it farther then that last $10 in their pocket for drugs.

On the other hand, some of these people have money to their names, but choose this lifestyle.

They really enjoy the life of nothing. This one woman was offered a job and a home, and she politely turned it down because this was her home. She loved the community around her and wouldn’t trade it for any material. What a way of life.

My family was so generous to let us three, stay with them here in Venice Beach. My Uncle Greg is my mom’s brother. He moved out here with his family to further his comedic career. Unfortunately, that meant I couldn’t see my cousins often.

My cousin Owen is a year younger than me and in the same grade as my brother. My other cousin Jojo is four years younger but grew up so fast. I always said the water in California was cracked out, because she always appeared older than my brother and I.

Since COVID I hadn’t been able to see them in two years, so I was so excited to hang out with them.

Jojo just graduated high school, so she is finally old enough to do drugs with!!

We also got to meet up with our friend Izzy from Oneonta. She is living out here for the summer with her sister. What a life.

Izzy is thriving here with her job at this night club and is living in her sister’s cute ass apartment in Echo Park. She has the total LA vibe and even knows all the local spots to hang. Shout out to you for sneaking us into a random hotel’s rooftop pool! Confidence never gets questioned.

We love meeting up with friends from school, it makes the trip feel more homie.

What

What’s hanging dude…

Joshua Tree National Park was something out of another planet. It seriously looked like Jurassic Park and a dinosaur should be appearing at any second.

It was very different from anything we had ever seen before, but it was still a desert and was hot as fuck.

We did some gorgeous hikes through all the massively large, rounded rocks that somehow were placed on top of each other ages ago.

The trees that are all around are Joshua Trees, also considered Trees of Life.

This means they produce a way of life for other creatures at all stages of its growing/dying process.

While in beginning stages of its life, Yucca moths use the trees pollen to lay their eggs in and produce pollen scatter, creating more trees. When the trees are gown, the caterpillars use the tree for habitats and provides food sourcing for a lot of other desert species. When the tree dies, the bark is used to create habitats for humans and used to wove baskets and other materials.

These trees look like a palm tree and a cactus went to TOWN together.

Los Angeles is the other city of dreams. It is not comparable to New York City besides the homelessness and the traffic.

The Ocean really makes the whole city’s surfer aesthetic. Everyone, even the rich and famous, dress like they are in last weeks outfit.

The style is so different from New York. People really don’t dress to impress but spend half their life savings on their wardrobe.

Visiting my family here has always been the ideal way to do this city, since they take us to all the local shops, and we do fun activities like surfing. It’s not just another tour bus showing us where Kurt Cobain shot up some heroin for the first time.

They also show us the best food joints. We got these sushi balls, and it was the greatest -post beach snack- imaginable. A little hit of the wax pen and a bite of this ball is comparable to an orgasm.

Where

Where are all the famous people…

Joshua Tree was so beautiful, it is a place I will be re-visiting, considering we were only there for one night.

Los Angeles is where I have always wanted to live, ever since a young girl. Whenever we would come out here to visit my uncle, he would take us to the coolest places, and we would meet the coolest people.

One year I was here on my birthday, and his buddy stopped over to say hi, when I came downstairs in was Zach Galifianakis chilling there with a $20 bill and my name on it as a birthday gift.

You could imagine my teenage self shitting a tiny bit in my pants as he handed me $20… However, in my head I was thinking, “I know you’re rich, give me more you cheap fuck.”

This year for graduation I only got a phone call from him… how rude.

My Uncle is a popular comedian, if you know him you know him, but if you don’t, he is very irrelevant to you.

When we arrived, he took us out to a show he was preforming at in West Hollywood, featuring other comedians you might know or might also be very irrelevant, including Bill Burr, Anthony Jeselnik, Pete Holmes and Beth Stelling.

It was a cool venue, and a fun time. My favorite part was being called out for attempted DUI’s in every state we have been in due to my funneling addiction, thanks Uncle Greg, that was supposed to be a secret.

After the show he dropped us off at this bar that his friends said was the “it” spot. When we walked in, the bar itself was perfect, expect it was populated by older rich men trying to find their next sugar baby.

We had some contenders, but they were asking for too much… No, I don’t want to go back to your house and sneak past your wife and kids as we dart to your hot tub.

When

When will we leave…

When we first got to LA we had full intensions of staying only four nights and getting out of my family’s hair, but then plans fell through.

Because I love it here so much, we decided to stay!!

Just kidding, I wish we could stay longer… One day I’ll move out here though.

COVID restrictions are back at it again, ruining our plans of going Yosemite. They are the only National Park that requires a whole ass separate pass just to enter the park, on top of the $30 day pass we already have.

The only reason our route was heading inland California was to see that park. So, we did a little digging and decided to just send it up all the way up the coast and do the legendary Pacific Coast Highway.

This is what we originally wanted to do before we found out about Yosemite. Guess we will have to come back to see the park, aw shucks!

Why

Why can’t I afford this…

California is fucking expensive; I can see why the population of homelessness is so high… Even gas is $1.00 more than it is back in New York.

And for Why? They are on a coast, it’s not like the desert where there is a gas station every 100 miles.

They know people here have the money, so they overprice literally everything. A fucking water bottle is $7.00. Sorry didn’t realize paying for survival would be this expensive.

The older man at the bar loved to throw the fact he had money around (as do most people with money around here). He kept saying he works on wall street, but wall street is literally a street in New York City.

He just wanted to flex he works in finances and has a hot tub, okay we get it you have a small dick.

How

How we almost died…

This is my favorite part of the last week, but also the most traumatizing.

So, have you ever heard of cowboy camping?

Well, neither had we until our friend that had just camped in Joshua Tree told us about it and how legendary it was in that specific spot.

Cowboy camping: you don’t pitch your tent, you just post up with your sleeping bags under the stars.

Since Joshua Tree is known for their stars, we thought fuck it, we are here for less than 12 hours, the weather is perfect let’s do it.

That night was a full moon, and it was a killer sunset (all pun intended). We cooked up a nice rice bowl for dinner and then laid in our sleeping bags watching the stars.

The moon was almost too bright, it was taking away from the illumination of the stars, but it was legendary because I’ve never seen such a big and bright moon before.

But you know what they say about the full moons, it brings out the crazies. And in our case, coyote crazies.

After drifting off to sleep under the peaceful star and moon lit sky, I was rudely woken up to really loud growling and whimpering.

It was not something that was off in the distance, it was right next to us… barebone in the wild.

I quickly and quietly turned over to grab my bear spray that I keep next to me when camping. I started thinking, “Alright this is the only thing keeping me from getting mauled by whatever the fuck is next to me.”

Not knowing what we were dealing with, I slowly popped my head up hoping the animal didn’t catch my movement… I saw about 5 feet in front of us was a pack of about 10 coyotes, running around chasing animals.

We happen to be the center of their circle and were surrounded by their pack. Thankfully their attention was diverted to our asshole neighbor’s whose food was left out. Thanks for that.

We just laid their paralyzed in fear of death. As we laid there, I saw two shooting stars and wished for life… Shoutout to those shooting stars.

We tried to stay as quiet as possible, so we didn’t become their next victim. Maya was not having it though and couldn’t stop shaking. There was a moment when her shaking was so loud, and I could see a coyote right next to us, so I had to hold her body so it would stop moving.

We laid there for about 20 minutes until the noises stopped… then we booked it for the car. We slept in the car until the sun rose.

As the sun was rising all the coyotes simultaneously howled for the rest of the pack to meet up and disappear before daylight. That was one of those, “holy shit that was the coolest most terrifying moments of my life”, moments.

We left the next morning as fast as possible, running on no sleep and fear… we headed for the city. I had never been more grateful to be in a city.

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