#my dude in christ you are talented

[hobiwonder]

Days stretch by and nights sweep away with the bitter caress of the summer winds. When did the sun turn into the moon? When did the moon lose half of its face? I’ve lost count of how many stars light up the night sky just as I’ve lost count of how many days it’s been since you were last here.

whoever this is.... u wanna collab

[harrylights]

.

[yeowvng]

was introduced to yuzuru hanyu. i am a changed woman.

[sbcdh]

You know where the word cocaine comes from? Its Quechua. Just the name of the damn plant. I think it was 1971, maybe 72. I dunno- 

Could you start at the beginning?

Huh? Yeah, sure. Course. Uhh. Lets see…

Take your time. 

Woof. Lets see…I started in uhhh, 72. Some tiny little bottle-rocket firm sweatin for talent, head broker was this big red fatass named Ron Spade, hell of a guy, but the place got bought out by Bear Stearns in 73 when the shit really hit the fan. It was a rough time to be on a trade floor. IRS just put out the whole hypnoeconomics thing. Half the big firms were runnin’ around with their hair on fire, the other half felt invincible. Every day was a party. Party party party. 

Was that your first interaction with hypnostimulants? 

I guess. Its funny. First guy to give me quori was a cop. 

You mean an agent of the FDA? 

No no, like an old fashioned NYPD beat cop. Met him in the bathroom at Pink during a bender. Moron was so faded he thought I was his informant. Just gave me a phial. 

And you tried it?

Not right away no. To be honest I thought it was kinda faggy. Sorry. Its just what I thought at the time. The shit was sparkly, you know? What kinda drug comes in phials? Shoulda known something was up. 

Would you say hypnostimulants were popular at the time? 

At the time? Depends what you mean by popular. People didn’t know about that shit yet. You heard stories, dudes shooting up in the woods upstate, gettin found with their eyeballs exploded. It was early days, ya know? But like, that didn’t happen. That was urban legends. You know who was actually fucking around with the early stuff? Accountants. 

Accountants?

Yeah, you know, the bookkeepers. See,  I’m really just a plumber. I move money from one pipe to another pipe. But instead of wrenches and sprockets or whatever, I use charm. Its pretty easy if you ask me. Imagine if you could just tell water where it already wanted to go. You’re water’s best pal. Nah. It was those nerds in the basement, the spreadsheet guys that figured out how to expense shit so the IRS couldn’t get ya. Those were the fuckers who really dove in. 

What got you using regularly? 

Same shit as everyone else. Makes the job easier. 

How so?

You can feel the money in their pocket. Its like, I dunno how to describe it. Its like…Its like, a turd sitting in a hammock. You can feel how the money bends everything around it. You can see it, smell it. You can hear it over the phone. You can’t ignore it. Shit is nuts. You take enough, and its like you can’t see anything else. Or. No. Its like…You see that you don’t need to see anything else. Money is everything. You’re money. I’m money. Its all just rivers of money flowing through everything. 

By 1973 you were a regular user yes?

Regular makes it sound normal. But yeah I know what you mean. “Regular user.”  76 was the sweet spot. The drugs were good, but the regulators hadn’t stepped up yet. You and some buddies could set up in a club bathroom with nothing but a blindfold and a pile. You ever seen a stock floor with a headfull of that fancy government shit? 

Would you like to discuss the raid? 

No. Not really. 

I understand you were the only one in a sub-emmanation state when Hypnoregulators arrived on the scene. 

I don't want to talk about it. 

Very well then, my associate will be happy to take you to prison as per the agreement you signed. 

Alright alright, Christ. 

Please. In your own words. 

From what I understand, you pulled spade outta bed. Got a confession and everything that morning. 9 fuckin AM, and 200 IRS agents come busting in the doors. I was in the bathroom seeing shit. It's marble lined, lots gold filigree. All that jazz. Special made. Listen. I'm serious about the stock floor shit. Whatever you guys have, it's different than what we had back then. I mean, the shit was still cut with cocaine. A stock floor wasn't a stock floor, it was like…

The raid, please. 

I'm getting to it! You gotta know this shit okay? I need you to understand what you goons fuckin wrecked. It was perfect okay? A garden of Eden . Ripe fruit. Everything just works. You don't have to worry about shit. You're a hunter, a killer, the great fuckin god pan, and the floor is your field of delights. It's like being a beating heart, like being struck by lightning. You can feel the sun in your pocket, and how it's all flowing through everything. And then you fucks showed up. 

It was cold. I felt it first. Like I just threw the biggest party, and mom and dad were coming home early. But you know what I saw? You know those Chinese dragon dancers? Or, lions, or whatever they are? You know how there's two guys in the costume? I saw a dragon, a beast with eyes like the sun, teeth dripping gold, a bunch of IRS suits holding its pelt on their shoulders like you carry your baby home. 

Your statement alluded to some additional information. 

Yeah…there was something else… I dunno how to describe it. The fuckin…eyes, like the sun. Thats how you feel when you're on this shit. You're seein’ gold. I looked into the dragons eyes, and it's like, it's like I saw me. Like I was the dragon, and I was looking at me. Or…no. I was the sun. I was looking at myself. It was like, in that moment I knew something. I learned something. 

What exactly is that?

I dunno. It doesn't fit into words. But like. You aren't regulating shit. 

I'm sorry? 

Yeah. All this shit. The dragon. The field. The dancers. It's all just the sun.

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 1

Hello! I know there are a few minutes left of the poll, but there is nothing that could happen in the next 15 minutes that is going to change the outcome.

3 to 1 in favor of the main story first. The only reason I asked, was because that story has been finished a long time, but this one is just getting started. But the masses have spoken.

Original prompt here.

Summary: Eddie and the Corroded Coffin boys made it big right out of high school. So big that Metallica could open for them. Outselling the biggest bands and artists. They are huge. Then a small little indy metal band called The Fallen comes on the scene. They wear hoods and masks and go by aliases. Eddie (and most of the rest of the metal scene) are dismissive of them. More splash then talent.

Only fans don't thinks so. So when Dustin takes him to one of their concerts Eddie learns two things.

One that they are super talented.

And two, that he knows at least of one the members' of the band's real identity.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

****

Getting out of Hawkins had always been the dream. Being able to do it with three of the best people he had ever had the pleasure of knowing with their music? That was the cherry on top of the icing.

But Eddie never dreamed that Corroded would outsell one his favorite bands of all time. Never even crossed his mind to dream about.

But there it was in black and white. Corroded Coffin was the highest grossing band of the year. Metallica was seventh. Fuck they had outsold Taylor Swift for Christ’s sake.

Barely.

But it still counted damn it!

What was a surprise was the number nineteenth best selling band of the year. A band he’d never heard of before. The Fallen. It said the genre was metal in that little italic font.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Yeah, it was impossible to listen to every up and coming metal band. But if they had already hit this big with only their second album, surely Eddie would have heard them on the radio.

Only on their last tour Chrissy Cunningham, their beautiful and amazing manager had put an embargo on the radio because the riffs were finding their way into Eddie’s song writing. So he guessed it made sense that he hadn’t heard of them.

So he called the one person he knew who would have all the details on these guys.

“Dusty!” he greeted when the man picked up. Man. Shit, when did they all get so old?

“Eddie!” Dustin greeted back. “Finally back in town?”

Eddie grinned. “You know it. Dude, you know my tour schedule better than Chrissy does.”

“Maybe.”

He laughed. “Guess who hit the top of the most successful metal bands of the decade?”

“Oh my god!” Dustin screamed. “That’s so cool! Is the issue out on stands yet or did you get a sneaky peak for having made it to the top of their list?”

Eddie winced. “Sadly the later. But! I can bring it over to show you when I come to hang out.”

“That’s acceptable,” Dustin said. “Steve just got back in town, too. That label he works for sure does like dragging him all over the world.”

Eddie hummed. “Yeah? Where’d they send him this time?”

“Japan if you can believe it,” Dustin huffed. “He basically came home sometime around midnight and just crashed.”

Eddie didn’t know what Steve and Robin did for the studio, no one did. But the general consensus was that they were dogsbodies of some sort. Getting coffees for execs and stars, driving them places. Just stuff they didn’t want to hire out for, they made Robin and Steve do.

“I won’t be waking him up if I come over, will I?” Eddie asked, biting his lip. He had a crush on the other man. A large one. But fame and fortune kept getting in the way of something more.

“Nah,” Dustin assured him. “He woke up about an hour ago. He’s even showered and eaten. He’ll want to see you as much as I do.”

Eddie very much doubted that, but he was going to take it. “Great! This list is insane, man. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“Come over for dinner,” Dustin suggested. “We’ll pour over the list over pizza and beer.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re old enough for beer now.”

“Yeah, yeah, old man,” Dustin said. Eddie could feel the eye roll from here.

****

Eddie was watching Steve in interest.

He was walking around like he was used to being in high heels or something, as he would catch himself on his toes and force his feet down on his heels.

He would jump at Dustin throwing open the door. He kept touching his face and rubbing at his throat.

Robin was constantly pushing tea into his hands to get them settle. When they weren’t cradling the tea mugs, they were all over the place. Not just his face. But his back and stomach, too. Rubbing his palms on the front of his jeans.

“Dude!” Dustin hissed. “What is wrong with you? Japan can’t have been that different from America.”

Steve winced from the sound. “Bud, you are seriously being too loud. I told you that I have a migraine.”

Eddie tilted his head. “Hey do you need me to go? Butthead here said you were fine.”

Steve looked up at Eddie and his expression softened. “I’m fine as long as you aren’t yelling like Dusty Buns, here.”

Eddie chuckled. “I hear that. So how was Japan? When me and the boys went a couple years ago it was so beautiful.”

Steve rubbed his forehead between his eyebrows. “I wish I could have seen more of it. It felt like we were running nonstop. At least we aren’t roadies. I don’t think I could do the work they do. They’re the true beating heart of the operation.”

Eddie nodded. “Our last tour we had twelve trucks of roadies and equipment. It was insane.”

Robin grabbed Steve’s cold tea mug and swapped it with a warm one. Steve murmured his thanks. “I’m still not sure if I’m on this time zone yet. And I worry that this fucking migraine may throw me off even further.”

“Is that why Robin is plying you with tea?” Eddie asked. “To keep you awake enough to go bed at the right time?”

Steve nodded, humming contently over the cup of tea. “Nothing caffeinated, not really. Peppermint for the most part, honey lemon, too. She thinks I might be coming down with travelers’ cough.”

Again Steve made an aborted movement toward his face.

“Stop doing that!” Dustin hissed again. “Why do you keep touching your face like that? Did the Tibetan monks curse you or something?”

Robin smacked the back of his head. “That’s China, doofus! And no, no one has been cursed. We had to wear face masks like the surgeons wear for a lot of the trip because there had been a flu outbreak.”

Eddie nodded. “Ooh, yeah. They recommended we wear them too in certain areas, it wouldn’t surprise me if I was that twitchy when we moved to the Australian leg of the tour.”

Dustin eyed Steve warily, like he wasn’t sure if he should believe him or not, but Eddie had backed him up, so Dustin decided to let it go.

For now.

“Where were you touring again?” Steve asked Eddie after taking a long sip from his mug. “South America, wasn’t it?”

“Right in one, big boy,” Eddie enthused. “It was our first time in some of those countries so it was super exciting meeting the people, learning the culture, eating the food. I swear by the end of the tour we had all gained at least ten pounds and that was with us sweating our asses off on stage almost every night.”

Steve winced. “I don’t know how you guys do it, the stage lights we had were merciless.”

“Years and years of practice, Stevie,” Eddie said, “years and years of practice.”

Dustin turned to Eddie. “All right I think I’ve been patient enough, I want to see the top twenty money makers of metal before I vibrate out of my skin.”

Steve laughed and smacked the back of his head. “You know who number one is, why do you care about the other nineteen?”

Eddie shook his head. “Not just metal bands, my weird little friend. But out of all the bands.”

He pulled out the magazine and Dustin snatched it out of his hands, careful not to rip it.

Dustin was furiously reading the list and it was clear that he was looking for someone specific.

“Eureka!” he cried. “I knew it! I knew they were outselling other new metal bands.”

Steve looked over his shoulder. “Yeah? Who’s that, bud?”

“The Fallen!” he cried. “They are so cool man. They have these on stage personas like Daft Punk and they kick ass on stage. I was so bummed when they didn’t come to Pasadena or anywhere near there when they were doing their US leg of their tour.”

Dustin was going to school at Caltech because as much as he wanted to go to MIT his mom was worried about him being by himself, so he moved out to California to move in with Steve.

He was on campus for housing most of the year, but he came home on the weekends and that put Claudia’s mind at rest.

Steve himself had moved out to California a couple of years before. Robin and him had gotten a job at record company and had to move out there to be closer to the headquarters.

Interestingly, or at least to Dustin, Steve’s friends all found jobs out here, too.

“I saw that one,” Eddie was saying. “But I’d never heard of them are they any good?”

Dustin scoffed. “Are they any good? Holy shit are they good.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “They’re a metal band, no offense to Eddie here, but there are only three metal bands on the whole list. Most of them are pop, rap, or country. How good can they be?”

Eddie scoffed and held his hands to his heart. “You wound me!” Then he flopped on the sofa, playing dead.

“That’s what does make them so good, Steve,” Dustin insisted. “Because there are only three metal bands on the list, it means they had to work their asses off twice as hard as the others.”

Eddie popped up. “Yeah, Stevie!” He stuck out his tongue and Steve laughed.

“You got any of the albums?” Steve asked, with a flippant wave of his hand. “If they’re so good, let’s hear them then.”

A shadow crossed over Robin’s face and she looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t.

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

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[kimingyuslover]

WONWOO FIC RECS

scandal by @fantasyescapes17 (regency!au, fluff, angst, kinda enemies to lovers!au) pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4

The Viscount's sister with an enormous dowry, beauty and unmistakable talent- you began the London season as the most desired woman in any room. But Jeon Wonwoo (a man who would rather hide in the library than dance at a ball) was beyond your comprehension. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it embroiled you into a scandal with a man you could never love.

the peephole by @rubyreduji (smut)

➥ wonwoo can’t stop thinking about how he wants to ruin his roommate, the peephole in his wall isn’t helping tamper those desires either

neurosurgery department by @taeyegu (fluff, angst, some humor, friends to lovers!au)

“if there is a nice person, please introduce him to me. sometimes like water, sometimes like fire. someone who can love me sincerely. i hope he is someone who is mature and faithful…” (introduce me a good person, joy)

getting closer (angst, smut, crime!au, Joker!Jeon Wonwoo x Chief Inspector!fem!reader) by @multi-kpop-fanfic

Summary: Four months. It has taken inspector Y/N L/N four months to get her hands on Jeon Wonwoo, the maniac, Joker-like criminal, who has thrown the city into total fear. The same criminal who has an obsession with the inspector, because she's the only one who can grant him his greatest wish. They need each other to fulfill their goals and there's only one way - by getting closer to each other, one last time.  

bloodily safe by @starlightxsvt (psychological thriller? camgirl au, college au, smut)

synopsis ➳ you have a little secret. one you are desperately hiding. yet the boy you have a crush on has figured it out. now a game of cat and mouse has begun. how do you make it out alive?

game on by @starlightxsvt (pt. 2 of bloodily safe, smut)

synopsis ► ❝ there has not been a single uninteresting moment since you have started living with wonwoo. as halloween rolls around, things only get more riveting. ❞

twisted fate by @smileysuh (smut, some fluff, vampire!wonwoo, vampire hunter!reader, soulmate!au, enemies to lovers!au)

💙 preview. “He deserved it,” Wonwoo assures you, reaching out to grab you by the back of the neck, pulling you closer. He’s covered in blood, and he looks like a sexy, wild monster. But he’s your monster, and you can’t help but react, leaning in- “Jesus Christ,” you hear Jeonghan breathe, turning to give you and Wonwoo privacy while he presses his lips against yours hungrily. At first, you can try to ignore the wet liquid on your fingertips as you grab at his strong shoulders, but you can’t ignore the taste on his tongue. Your body goes rigid and Wonwoo pulls back with a sigh, resting his forehead against yours. It’s an oddly peaceful moment amongst the chaos.

anteric by @smileysuh (smut, friends to lovers!au, frat!au, fake dating!au, ft. mingyu)

💙 preview. when you bump into the guy that ghosted you, your model best friend and roommate, Mingyu, steps up to be your fake boyfriend for the night... and when the asshole is hired at your workplace, your other roommate, twitch gamer Wonwoo, is roped into the charade too - “polyamory exists dude, get over it.”

work husband by @rubyreduji (fluff, ft. mingyu, office!au)

summary: your two coworkers get a bit too involved in becoming your “work husband”

to my youth by @viastro (slice of life!au, smau, fluff, humor, angst)

ミ☆ synopsis: in a world where everyone finds out who loves them within a 10 meter radius through the app love alarm, confessing your feelings without the use of the app is no longer considered normal. however, you refuse to download it in hopes that you’ll be able to fall in love without being dependent on love alarm.

[katuschka]

Touch Starved Pups – One

Jake Kiszka x f!Reader x Josh Kiszka 4.011 words

Welcome to Part One of the story about what happens to two well-behaved, bored and horny romantics when a new feisty, worldly and hot social media manager enters the building...

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): expressive language, promiscuous behaviour, unprotected sex (or still rather just allusions to it , just setting the scene...), oral sex, handjob, kissing, twinfight, fistfight, angst, mockery, consensual teasing game that's borderline exploitative, slightly toxic behaviour...so, to sum it up, this is pure rock&roll filth, folks.

Also, if you like the story and want to get notifications for future updates, you can join the Taglist or see the Masterlist

Hooked? Read Part Two.

I know who I am when I'm alone

I'm something else when I see you

You don't understand, you should never know

How easy you are to need

Don't let me in with no intention to keep me

Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me

Honey, don't feed me, I will come back

Walking down the photo pit after all the other photographers cleared off is my favorite part of the day. Or night, to be more precise. That’s when I shine: strutting along, ready to capture all those best moments that make all you bitches go feral during AND after the show. This is my queendom. I make content for you lot. And I’m damn good at it.

How do I know that? The numbers just skyrocketed after I joined the team. Ka ching! All those poor things that came before me had no idea how to do their job. Tried to do some lifeless artsy shit that might be good for booklets and collectors’ crap that only collects dust, but not followers. They listened to what the band and their management wanted, but that’s not how it’s done. Nuh uh. I listen to you, my dudes. Your screeches, howls and cries. Some say that you’re crazy, but I know better. I’m here to observe what drives you crazy, and then I shall stir it up even more. When it comes to online content, the only thing that matters is what YOU want.

Make no mistake, I create art too. The crucial difference is that it’s not shit. Socials need candid eye candy and I’m here to provide it. 

I gotta admit, they make my job quite easy. All four of them do, but the twins are human masterpieces. Born pretty, they gradually learned that they could monetize it just as much as their respective talents. I didn’t need to come up with a strategy; it’s always been there for the taking. The fact that my predecessors have been mostly ignoring this is a mind-boggling mystery to me. Those guys know for sure that they ruin your panties. I just needed to know how.

So I rolled up my sleeves and went down to the barricade to do my research. Marketing’s no rocket science. Veni, vidi, vici. I just looked at them through your eyes and your own photos, and let me tell you – you bitches aren’t crazy, you are right! Yeah, I saw it too. And I get it. Some people in the team wanna keep pretending that it’s all about the music – which is surprisingly good, by the way – but that’s not what makes you sleep in the dirt and sit on a curb for days, and then again…and again. Those sons of bitches basically fuck on stage, looking very tasty while doing so. Especially Frodo and Patchybeard. Whether it’s a guitar, a mic stand or just plain air – they just shag it! Y’all look like you can feel it, and they’re very well aware. It strokes their egos, so they just keep adding fuel to the fire. The first time I saw that, I just stood there with my mouth wide open and just laughed, and laughed, and laughed. It was a fucking orgy! And then, when it was time to walk into their bright conference room and pretend to do some serious business for a change, I put on my super serious and super professional face, and I told them what needed to be done. 

Let’s just take your usual fangirl stuff and make it official. Sorry, not sorry. You crave it, so what. I keep the Facebook page artsy and businesslike for those gramps and music snobs that would go batshit crazy if they saw any more pictures with sweaty “jummies”, sparkling dicks and marshmallow balls; but anywhere else, it’s a party. 

Some of you keep wondering why they behave like such frenzied horndogs all the time. My lovelies, the explanation is pretty simple. It’s because they are! You wanna know if they are like that in real life? Yes, the answer is yes! It’s good for the show, sure thing, and they’re both true born professionals creating a breathtaking spectacle. “It’s all for you, bla bla bla!” But the truth is that they’re naturals, not really much different offstage. Lusty, filthy, bad. 

Just kidding. They’re sweethearts. Lust-driven, whiny pups that want to be played with. When the show is over, they both follow me backstage like the good boys that they are, wagging their tails at me enthusiastically. 

Ooops, what did I just say? Lemme put my fingers to my mouth and giggle like a coy lady that I’m not. Some of you already suspect it anyway, and it was collectively decided that you should hate me with passion. I guess now I’m famous, too. D’oh!

So, yeah… When I said that it was there for the taking, I forgot to mention that I also wanted to take it. Life on tour is lonely and stressful. I’m not immune to that either. Sex helps. That’s why the rockstars of yore kept fucking everything that dared to come close while they were all high as a kite. Because why not…well, apart from the fact that unlike good sex, drugs actually ruin lives. No, I’m not a fan. 

Times have changed and today’s musicians – and I’m not talking about all those wannabes with backing tracks – really need to work hard to earn their bread.They’re self-aware and sober (Take that with a pinch of salt…they’re sober while actually working.). Often homesick. Sure, some of them are still jerks or junkies. Or both. Not a fan of these either. I worked with some and it was a nightmare. 

But, when I joined the Greta Van Fleet team, I found a bunch of down-to-earth and touch starved homeboys, well aware of their power but hesitant to act upon it. That’s the difference between having a huge dick and being one. They’re – and now let me let out a sob or two for the dramatic effect – gentlemen! 

You know what a sweetheart with a huge dick is? That’s your dream come true. Believe me. That’s just something you want. I certainly did.

Not from the start, though. No. They treat the crew like friends and family, and as much as that was certainly a pleasant change, I wavered initially. They were all so kind and gentlemanly that I just decided to keep my friendly distance, thinking they really were such mama’s boys that they appeared to be…The impression didn’t last long. Soon I heard them making jokes and lewd comments when they thought no one was listening. Some of those comments were about my bouncy ass, too. 

Men, am I right? 

Alas, sweethearts’ dicks are still just dicks, and neglect will gradually take its toll. I could see right through their nervous ticks. 

Jake was the first one that fell into my snares. I didn’t really pursue it; I’m not a monster. Like I said, we were lonely and stressed, and so it just happened one fine day. He craved human contact, and I was there. Life is complicated, but certain things are still pretty simple. Thank god, or whatever supernatural entity you believe in. 

It was a lovely evening in his 2-storey hotel apartment. He often got those, because the others had this habit of gathering together in his room to discuss business – since it was his band – and to get shitfaced in the process. 

We were both sitting cross legged on his bed, both already pleasantly booze-soaked and shrouded in semi-darkness, the only source of light being the dimmed lamps in the main room. I had been giving him a lecture on the importance of a good online presence that evening. Or at least I was trying to do that… When the others got a bit too rowdy, we retreated to his bedroom to have some privacy.

When it comes to online shit, Jake’s the most difficult one. He doesn’t like it. Plain and simple. He had created this cute mask of a smooth and aloof poet slash ancient adventurer, behind which he hides, but you bitches don’t like that. You like watching him talking to his SG in front of thousands like she’s his obedient whore. See, there’s a certain discrepancy in that. I kinda understood where it was coming from, him being in his element onstage and all that shit, but I also needed him to understand my point.

And it was tough. He’s complicated. He likes to pretend to be a tough, mysterious guy, but deep down he’s just a shy and wide-eyed fawn that bounces when you say “boo”. Not always, mind. I learned that  the hard way once when I was leaving his room with scarlet imprints of his fingers on my thighs. However, drunk Jake is a meek and needy cutiepie. I could definitely use it to my advantage. So I poured us more drinks. 

“I dunno, s’not really me,” he countered after I tried to explain one more time. 

I showed him another one of the most recent videos. “Are you telling me this is not you?”

I grew really fond of his quiet “hahaha” every time he felt discomfited and flattered at the same time. Just like now. Stroking his chin with his finger, he shifted nervously and continued: “Well, yeah…uuum…you like this?” 

That was the moment when I knew I had him firmly in my grasp. Yeah, Jakey, I reeeeally like it. Let me just show you how much.

I seized my chance. We laughed and joked and flirted and all that shit. Talking about his desirable body parts that y’all take snapshots of soon turned to physical manifestations and before we knew it, his fly was open, his fat cock hard and out and firmly in my hand. I brushed my thumb gently over his pink and already leaking head before I wrapped my fingers around his shaft once again and started pumping him slowly. He just sat there and watched me with his lips parted, both mesmerized and taken aback by how quickly things escalated. I returned his stare, looking him firmly in the eye while I quickened my pace, and his breathy exhales turned to full-fledged, loud moans. I tried to shush him by forcing my other thumb in his mouth… and that only made it worse. There were still other people in the adjacent room and the door was open, but he just wouldn’t shut up! I had to grab his chin and stick my tongue in his mouth to keep him quiet. 

That sobered him up a bit. He didn’t want me to stop, he just wanted to regain control. Our tongues wrestled for a few seconds before he grabbed my cheeks and returned the kiss in such a manner that made my pussy spasm. I liked that, and we continued like that until he came all over my fingers a few minutes later. Thankfully, someone put some music on in the other room and it muffled his moans a bit, because my mouth could no longer contain them. He howled in it. It was hot.

You know, I’ve had the misfortune to cross paths with assholes who’d just throw me out after that, both satisfied and ashamed that my skills made them finish so quickly and unceremoniously, without fanfare and praises. Not Jake. He had to reciprocate AND prove himself at the same time. He’s vain, but in a good, gentlemanly way. 

After everyone else left, he just fucked my brains out. It surprised me how much he wanted to kiss, and not just my lips (either kind). His tongue was running marathons all over my body, and if I remember it correctly, I think I came five times that night. Not my record, but still a very impressive first-time. 

After that, he just kept crawling back to me, stopping me in empty hallways just to whisper obscene poems about my hungry pussy in my ear. Talking about how he’d feed me. 

He’s a sly one: the kind of a man that would run his fingertips gently down your spine in a room full of other people, while talking casually about fucking you raw, only for you to hear. I mean, that’s exactly what he did once or twice. I’m sure our “conversations” always looked completely innocent from a distance, with only Josh sometimes watching us with his lips pursed. Sometimes his eyes even narrowed a bit. That feisty chipmunk knew from the very start, and I thought I could spot jealousy in that piercing stare of his. I enjoyed that, just as much as Jake enjoyed making me wet in public, and calling it “retribution”. Honestly, I didn’t mind. Punish me as much as you want, baby, and keep using all those fancy words while doing so. Yeah. 

I’m a born provocateur, so I often just asked for more. Every time I saw him start licking his lips absentmindedly, I struck. In the end, it was always him who had to calm down, to keep it cool…to hide his hard dick. 

We both loved it. It was our little fight for dominance. We teased each other and then there would be a reward. 

It was a bit different with Josh. He’s a lover, not a fighter. He doesn’t need to fight for dominance and so he often rejects that role voluntarily.

At first I thought he wouldn’t be interested at all, even though his grabby hands landed on my bare skin more often than some would deem comfortable. But he’s like that with everyone! Including Bob, the chalice filler. It often doesn’t mean a thing. 

I knew it meant something when he almost grabbed my ass once. I tried to experiment with the same strategy I once used on Jake: using his own weapons against him, making him cross the friendly line.

It happened during a soundcheck while I was showing him a preview of my next scheduled post. His weapon was right there, on full display, and I further accentuated it by a subtle, punny caption. It made him giggle and I winked at him. 

“So, you okay with this? I mean, it’s all over the internet anyway…”

“Dear sparrow, if I weren’t okay with this, you wouldn’t be able to take such a lovely picture of it.” His hand first landed on the small of my back familiarly, just like it always did, and as we talked about other pictures in the carousel, I felt his fingers move even lower until the tip of his pinkie slid under the hem of my pants. I cleared my throat ostentatiously and he drew his hand away quickly as if I had burned him. 

“You know, I should report you for harassment for this,” I said matter-of-factly, still looking at the screen, trying to look both cool and unphased, but the twitch in the corner of my mouth gave me away. A true master of reading such subtleties, he slapped his fingers with his other hand and grinned at me. “Naughty me. Can’t blame me. You just smell so nice, sparrow. What is that?” 

“Hypnotic Poison.”

“Right…” He licked his teeth in a vain attempt not to grin even more. To be hundred percent sure, he still asked me if I wasn’t mad. Sure I wasn’t. I had been waiting for this. 

We parted after that, minding our respective businesses, but all those fleeting glances he cast my way during the rest of the afternoon didn’t escape my attention. Later, just before the show, he cornered me in the bathroom, startling me. I almost poked my eye out with a mascara when I noticed him standing right behind me. “Jesus Fucking Christ on a stick, Josh!”

“Yeah, I’m all that.” It was obvious he wasn’t there to take a leak as he kept watching me watch him in the reflection and his eyes grew darker. I slowly turned around and ran my finger down the hem of his low neckline, even more slowly. Tentatively, almost. Never breaking eye contact and with his lips slightly parted, he let me go lower until I reached the zipper head and tugged at it playfully. 

“Black velvet really suits you, you know?” I teased.

“Yeah, I know.” 

Cheeky brat. You wanna play, baby? Let me show you how it’s done. I slipped the tips of my fingers under the hem of his cleavage until I found his left nipple and started running circles over it with my middle finger. His breath hitched and his eyes widened before he seemingly regained his composure and flashed me a sly smile. 

“So…ummm…you and Jake are…exclusive?”

“Wow, you’re pretty straightforward,” I laughed. “No, we’re not. Just having some fun. Why?” 

Why, indeed. He made it pretty clear why, and I let my tongue give him the answer he desired. After the show that very night, he knocked on my door with a shy smile plastered on his face after I opened it. I welcomed him in.

Josh never fought me. He always presented himself on a silver platter and let me do whatever I pleased. Then he repaid me when the payment was due. My initial impression of him being a pillow princess wasn’t completely off, but my god! The man can fuck! Never try to piss him off. Or you know what? DO try to piss him off, because it turns him to a jackhammer. 

I once called him a sissy and the wrath that poured down on me afterwards made me see stars. 

So that’s how it went. They both knew what was happening behind closed doors with the other one, and both were ok with that, as long as it didn’t interfere with their own plans. And that was just a matter of time. 

To tell you the truth, I did wonder what it would be like to have them both, so when the opportunity presented itself, I would be a fool not to encourage it. 

Every once in a while, there are shows where shit just happens and everything that can go wrong, does do wrong. It was one of those nights. Even back at the venue, right after the show, I saw how both their faces were twisted with tension, and maybe the best way to avoid even more trouble would have been to avoid them altogether. They weren’t the only people who had a rough night. I was exhausted, too. If I were a bit more responsible, I would have settled for a nice hot bath and a filthy book, but sadly, I’m a people pleaser. Also, nothing can calm me down better than the smell of male skin.

It was long past midnight when I heard a knock on my door. 

“It’s me, Bebe. Please, let me in.” 

That’s right. He gave me that nickname shortly after we started fucking, even though I teased him that he would never beat those allegation that way. 

If you guessed that I indeed did open the door, you’re right. He didn’t even wait for the invitation to enter this time. The stress was doing us no good. I could smell even more troubleon the horizon, but I ignored it.

“Jake, you can’t just storm inside like this. What if I had company?” It was no use to argue with him. No longer sober to begin with, he was already making himself at home and pouring himself another drink. 

“Please, Bebe, stop teasing. I need you! I promise you won’t regret it.”

“Well, tough luck! Josh asked first.”

“Oh no, no no no! It’s my turn, baby! You can’t do this to me. Tonight was hell. Call him and tell him that you’re mine.” I shot him a sharp look, so he added quickly: “... for the night. ” Well, that only made it worse. 

Funny how quickly they got accustomed to the fact that I was just within reach. I would have been offended if I weren’t aware of how insolently I played with them too. Still, I should have said no, but I’m just human. 

However, the whole situation was already a bit more complicated than that. “I can’t. He’s already here.” 

Jake cast me a confused look before he smiled sympathetically at my feeble attempt to get rid of him. “Where? Hiding in the closet?”

“No, he’s in the shower.”

He just stood there for a short while, contemplating something, before he grabbed my cheeks with both hands and whispered sultrily: “Please, love, just a blowjob then. Your mouth can do wonders, baby. I beg you.” Noticing that I wavered, he bent closer to whisper in my ear: “You can ride my face anytime you want. You know that.”

Again, I should have said no, but the said mouth already started watering when I noticed the rapidly growing bulge. Mentally, he was already hitting my tonsils. I was on my knees in seconds. I knew Josh usually took his time, so maybe it was manageable. And if not…well, surely there was a way to benefit from the hypothetical pickle, should it happen.

And it happened. I was deepthroating him with both his hands holding my head and his head tilted back, when we heard the door open.

“Jesus fuck, Jake!” 

The moment of surprise made me gag. Jake withdrew quickly and started tugging himself back in his pants, which wasn’t easy, given his current state. Josh, however, just stood there completely and unabashedly naked. “Get out!” he bellowed, completely forgetting that it was in fact MY room they were both in. 

“No,” Jake spat back.

They started barking at each other like berserk chihuahuas. I swear, I was seconds from throwing them BOTH out, dicks out and all. They could keep shouting at each other in the hall or even in the main lobby for all I cared, but the wicked creature in me wanted to see how this would escalate. And it escalated majestically. 

I hadn’t bothered to unpack my suitcase earlier that day. It just lay open on the floor with my purple vibrator placed haphazardly on top of my lingerie. Jake spotted it, bent down to retrieve it and before I could argue, he thrust it against Josh’s bare chest while his other hand patted his cheek: “Here, this should do. Now bugger off!” 

I think I stopped breathing for a second. They teased each other quite often, but this seemed downright mean, even to their standards. I think Jake realized it too, but it was too late. We both watched the flames that appeared behind Josh’s dilated pupils and before either of us could react, Josh started after him and pushed him against the wall. And so the party started. In a matter of mere seconds, Jake fist almost collided with Josh’s jaw. Thankfully, Frodo is quite nimble, so he ducked the blow and striked back, his knuckles colliding with Jake’s forearm. Watching them wrestle like that, fuming, limbs intertwined, I was almost sorry I had no popcorn at hand. It was a comical sight: Josh still completely naked, Jake barely tucked back in his jeans. 

Have you ever seen puppies fighting over a toy? That’s them. They were both so needy and neither one ready to give up. It was time to seize the opportunity, so I… started laughíng. Loudly and mockingly. They both let go of each other and turned their heads to the source of that offensive sound: me. 

I was sitting on the edge of my bed, leaning back on my arms and with my legs crossed, contemplating my next move. Realizing I had no panties under my punto tube dress, I decided to Basic Instinct them. Sure, nothing new, but men are simple creatures. A naked pussy is like the Moon they howl at. It’s always new. Moreover, the fact that they never saw me like this before together was surely a great bonding experience of its own. I watched their faces for more clues and grinned viciously when I saw exactly what I hoped for. See, they’re different in many ways including this. Jake licks his lips, while Josh clenches his jaw. I tutted at them, watching how they both raised their eyebrows in a silent question. 

“Guys! You both know very well that I got more than one hole.”

Hooked? Read Part Two.

@its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @thewritingbeforesunrise @wetkleenex-gvf @lyndz2names @emojakekiszka @hollyco @lizzys-sunflower @fleetingjake @cheersdannyx2 @gvfstuddedmajesty @gvfmarge @dayumclarizzel @musicislove3389 @lipstickitty

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Night in New Orleans

Normally the men Y/N is in charge of managing are the ones getting in trouble, not the other way arround. This time, while shooting in Louisiana for the second movie, it’s a bit of both.

Johnny Knoxville X Gn!Reader, Bam Margera X Gn!Reader (if you squint)

(Fluff)

5.7k Words

Warnings: Highly suggestive content, crude language, heavy nudity, alcohol, drug use, fights, blood, hurt/comfort, flirting, stripping, fighting

An: Another manager Y/N fic!! I can’t seem to get away from this premise for the life of me! XD they’re just so fun to write for!! Also as proof of how much research goes into these fics, every location mentioned in this fic is entirely real and on Bourbon Street! I had an ex that went to New Orleans but I’ve never been there myself, so I could only hope it’s as wild as I immagine it to be! Also, this fic takes place ~2006 during the filming of Jackass Number Two because they filmed a good chunk of that movie in Louisiana! Anyways,thank you for sending in requests and please keep sending them!

Backroads seemed to stretch on forever as you ranted to Jeff on the phone, “MTV is not paying me enough for this shit! I mean, it's bad enough I gotta spend every day with idiots, now I’m the one who’s gotta find them when they run off?” The dusty road ahead of you was solely illuminated by the one working headlight on the van as you drove through the darkness, your only source of direction being the man you were on the phone with, “It's not my fault they decided to run off to some ranch in the middle of Nowhere, Louisiana!” You rolled your eyes, leaning forward against the wheel to try and see ahead as he sighed, “Listen, we gotta shoot in the morning so just get them back to the hotel. Manage the talent!” Click.

Fuckin Jeff, making you go out in the middle of the night in the stupid van that was bumbling allong on its last legs- you didn’t even want to immagine what went down in it based on how it smelled. The whole ‘manage the talent’ thing became almost a motto for when shit turned sour but calling them talent was an overstatement. This is what chauffeurs- better yet, the town dog catcher is for, not managers. Thanks to his amazing directions, you ended up at a ranch, sure, but it seemed practically deserted as you pulled up into the dirt parking lot. Squinting into the darkness, you could barely make out the carved writing on the wooden sign that hung over the front gate that read, ‘New-D Ranch’, whatever that meant. You waited for a few minutes, trying to catch a breeze from the one working AC vent while wondering why the hell you hadn’t quit already to find a job somewhere a little more sane before you heard the swish of the doors behind you opening.

You knew it was Johnny who called shotgun when you heard the slight twang in his grumble as he slid in the passenger seat, “Christ, for a nudist ranch you’d think there’d be more chicks…” Blinking, you turned to him, looking him up and down. Shoulders, chest, thighs- oh god he was naked. Well, naked save for those stupid sunglasses he never seemed to take off. The guys chattered amongst themselves in the back seat as you whipped your head around- yeah, them too. Knoxville must have seen how big your eyes got or the blush that spread across your cheeks, and judging by the way he chuckled a little and let his knees drift apart as he settled down in his seat, he didn’t seem to mind. Pervert. It’s not like you could help it that he was so shameless and all blue and glowy from the way the moon kissed his skin. Finally, you got your words out, yanking the van into gear as you peeled out, “Why are you all naked?”

Admittedly, you were speeding a little down the desolate road while Chris and Steve filled you in on how they heard about this totally rad nudie ranch from this guy at the hotel bar and were down to get with some really hot chicks that night, but all they found there were dudes and farm animals. Every now and then you would sneak a glance over at Johnny who was still wearing that shit eating grin he always had when he knew he was pushing your buttons. You didn’t want to debate yourself if this whole thing was turning you on or pissing you off, but you didn’t have a whole lot of time to consider it as you saw those flashing red and blue lights in your rear view mirror. Shit.

What a perfect time to get pulled over. Veering the car off to the gravelly shoulder, you did the routine. Yes officer. No, I don’t know why I got pulled over. My license? Oh sure! Right here, officer! He flashed that stupid little flashlight inside the car and audibly gasped as he gawked at the proud exhibitionists- that is, all except Bam, who was redder than a tomato and practically squirming in his seat as he desperately tried to cover up his junk. You could tell Officer Friendly got a little uncomfortable with the way Chris suggestively raised his eyebrows at him from the way he stuttered as he continued his police spiel, “May I ask why you are out at this hour with a- a van full of nude men?” Thinking for a moment, you tried to come up with a worthwhile excuse, “Well, I, uh- these are my brothers, officer, and they had a little too much to drink tonight, so they called me to pick them up from the bar!” Making eye contact across the center counsel, Johnny nodded with a very clear tone of amusement in his voice, “Yeah, brothers.” The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

All the cop could do was awkwardly ask for your license and go back to his car, leaving you alone in the oppressive humidity and near silence as crickets chirped faintly. Turning around, about to deliver the lecture of a lifetime, you noticed Steve eerily uiet and nevrous, of all things. Looking up at you from his nails that he was biting to the nub, there was a trace of panic in Steve’s eyes as he started, not even waiting for you to ask what was wrong, “I’m fuckin��� naked and I gotta warrant, man! I-I can’t go t’jail- not like this…” You rolled your eyes at his dramatics- really it wouldn’t surprise you if they all had warrants based on the shit you had to get them out of. As he stood up a little to get a better view out the front window, he anxiously bounced his leg, murmuring to himself, “Fuck, man. That’s it. I-I’m gonna make a run for it.” Your eyes shot open and you pushed him back into his seat. If there was anything you didn’t need tonight, it was a naked man under your care on the loose, so you shut that down fast, “Steve! Stay!”

When the cop returned, the guys turned to look in completely different directions so as to not appear suspicious as you got the news that everything seemed fine with your license. He let you off with a warning and a shake of his head, muttering something about you taking your brothers home to sober up and getting some damn clothes on them while you were at it. Yes, officer. Thank you, have a nice night, officer. As you started back to the hotel, Chris, who was previously distracted by looking at fireflies out the window, noticed something, “Woah, dude. What’s wrong?” Glancing in your rear view mirror as you pulled away, you saw Bam, in between Steve and Chris, white as a ghost with sweat just pouring down his face. Running a hand through his soaked curls, he shook his head, “Shit, dude! I was worried- like, I-I’m small and cute! And naked!” Johnny turned to face him and piped up, “And famous.” Bam disregarded any traces of sarcasm as he turned to you, “And famous! I’d get the shit kicked out of me, dude!” With how cool these guys were normally, the way they freaked out when a cop showed up surprised you.

By some miracle you made it to the hotel, a motel, if you were being honest, in the middle of bourbon street. The place was the definition of a shithole, but you’d stayed in worse and it was better than sleeping in the van so you made do with the used condoms under the bed and roaches in the bathroom because if they could survive this, so could you. Not wanting to leave the guys unsupervised for too long, you decided that your best bet at getting the guys from the car to the room would have to be something in the near vicinity, and while scanning the parking lot, you got an idea so good it made you want to ask for a raise. An assured grin crossed your face, ”I’ll be back.” Just as you were halfway out the door you heard Bam protest with an exhausted sigh, “Fuck it! I’m going with you.” He climbed over Chris to open the door, putting his hands up as he got over his previously held shyness at being nude in front of others, “I’ve been sittin’ between two naked dudes and I gotta get the fuck outta here.” Stopping just before an indecent exposure charge, he held his hand out to you, “Gimme your jacket.”

Begrudgingly handing over your hoodie to Bam, he casually tied it around his waist backwards to cover his crotch loincloth-style as you made a mental note to wash it before you wore it next time it got chilly. Decent enough, you thought, shaking your head as you walked towards the shitty hotel pool that glowed teal in the night. You tried to pretend he wasn’t there as he followed on your heels through the parking lot and through the metal gates that fenced the pool in. As you nearly dove into the big plastic green thing that housed the neatly folded towels, you heard Johnny wolf whistle from the van. Initially assuming that it was directed towards you, you flipped up, clutching an armful of fluffy white fabric, but before you could shout something back you very quickly noticed that Bam’s pale little ass was just completely out. Goddamn it. As you handed out the towels, he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest when Chris chuckled and said something about hating to see Bam go but loving to watch him leave.

Making sure to stay behind the group like a Border Collie to a herd of sheep, you marched the idiots through the lobby who were miraculously dry despite allegedly having come from the pool. As celebrities go, they didn’t attract as much attention as you would have otherwise expected, but that didn’t stop a few drunken women splayed out in the wide, red silk upholstered chairs in the lobby from loudly propositioning them. Steve threw up a ‘call me’ gesture and Bam dragged his feet, whining something about you never letting them have any fun as you nudged them along. You were so exhausted that you didn’t even bat an eye when Chris ‘accidentally’ dropped his towel and glanced back at you with a finger over his lips like one of those pin up girls. Humorously snatching the towel off of the ground, you shoved it into his arms as you all crowded into the tiny, rickety elevator that was surely over it”s weight limit. How strange it must have looked from an outsider’s perspective- you and four nearly naked men, all packed shoulder to shoulder into that tiny space. But you were too tired to care about any of that, leaning your forehead against the wall with a thump as the doors closed.

You were the one Jeff gave the keys to because you were the only one deemed responsible enough, so you tossed them to Bam as he passed you in the hall, but while the others were stumbling in and tossing off their towels, Johnny lingered in the hall as you went to unlock your room. The hallway was only maybe wide enough for you to stand on one side and stretch your arm out to touch the other side, so you really had to look up to talk to him, “Where’re you going?” Holding his towel up far too low with one hand, Johnny shrugged, leaning against the wall opposite to you, “M’goin t’our room.” Most people, if they were in your shoes, staring up maybe six inches away from this ruggedly handsome, partially nude man, would fold like a house of cards, but you were not most people, so you kept your composure. Shrugging, you unlocked your room. “No, this is my room.” The dryness of your words contracted with the playful tone in his voice, “You sure ‘bout that?” Tossing your keys into the bed, you turned to him flatly, “Yep!” Johnny shrugged, turning to leave before dropping his towel. He cackled that signature Knoxville laugh, picking it up only after he heard you snicker from your doorway.

After sending the kids off to daycare, you finally got a moment to yourself. Your day was mostly spent lounging about your room, trying to savor the peace and quiet however short lived it may be. But it came to a stop all too soon when your hotel room phone started ringing- it was Bam, who was apparently too lazy to just go next door and knock. He mumbled over the line, sounding a little embarrassed to ask you, “We wanna go out, n’Jeff says we can’t without you.” This premise never ends well. Hearing your sigh, he turned defensive, “Hey! We just wanna go get some food, okay? That’s it! Jeez…” In the background, you could hear Johnny say something about how the boys were starvin’ over there. “Okay, fine!” You relented after hesitating for a moment, “As long as it's just for food.”

The group walked through a blur of light and sound, dazzling neon signs flanking either side of the street: Bourbon Gifts Cigar Shop, Tropical Isle- Home of the Hand Grenade, signs advertising $5 Jager Bombs, but no restaurants. The guys seemed to have completely forgotten about looking for dinner, more concerned with what trouble they could get into than feeding themselves. “C’mon, Bam! I know this kickass voodoo lady that lives ‘round here- she’ll totally get us footage!” Steve’s excitement was met with a shudder, “No fuckin way, man. Like I wanna get hit by brooms’n play with snakes ‘n shit.” Maybe the fact that Johnny was holding the portable video camera from the hotel room should’ve tipped you off that they may not have been on the prowl for food. He chuckled, turning to Steve, “She sounds sweet. Think’y could get me her number?”

So far you had done a pretty good job at keeping the guys together, even if you had to grab their hands and tug them through the crowds like you were their mother when you caught them rubbernecking to peep into whatever strip club you were walking past. Suddenly, you saw Chris dart away from the pack. You weren't sure if it was the Penthouse Club, the Kama Sutra Cabaret, or Lary Flynt’s Hustler Club that he b-lined it into, but just as soon as he did, the rest of the guys followed quickly behind, leaving you stranded. Knowing how much shit you would get into if you lost one of them or god forbid someone got arrested, you went after them.

Given your line of work, you would’ve thought that, by this point, you would have gotten a little more familiar with the inside of one of these places, but nope. This place was on some real Girls, Girls, Girls shit, like the image of a strip club- mirror poles, velvet tablecloths, and women wearing barely more than a smile and nine inch heels. Averting your eyes from the ladies onstage, you let out a sigh of relief when you spotted Knoxville sitting at the bar. Hopping up onto the tall red vinyl stool next to him, you let out a sigh of relief as Johnny glanced over to you and let out a chuckle, taking a sip of his beer before reassuring you like he could read your concerns without you having to open your mouth, “If you’re lookin’ for the fellas, they’re out on the floor. S’not like they’re goin’ far”

Rolling your eyes, you kept your head low as you scouted the place out. “I thought we were gettin’ dinner.” This was not the kind of place you wanted to be found in, and you bet Johnny could tell from how entertained he seemed at your discomfort, looking you up and down, “Well, for these guys, this is dinner.” You couldn’t deny, you actually were kinda hungry, distracting yourself by eyeing the initials that were keyed into the countertop, “I don’t even think they have food here…” Knoxville nudged a glass bowl of peanuts sitting on the bar top toward you with a smirk. “Here,” He grabbed one himself, crushing the shell in his hand before tossing one in his mouth with a smirk, “Lemme buy you dinner.” Taking one from the bowl yourself, you scoffed, a smile ghosting over your face as you murmured, “Oh, you’re quite the gentleman, Knoxville. Strip joint and peanuts.” Laughing, he relented to you, “Alright, how about I make it up to you with a nice dinner sometime- one good dinner? I owe you.” Wait, was he asking you on a date? Before you could consider maybe taking him up on that offer, you felt a tap on your shoulder. “Hey, hey- Y/N!”

Turning around, you weren’t sure if you were annoyed or relieved to see Bam standing behind you, holding out a fifty, “Y’got any singles?” It was like a kid asking his mom for money to go to the movies. Johnny shrugged, turning to you to remark, “I mean, at least he’s tippin’ the ladies. Not like Steve-O over there.” He jabbed a thumb at the corner where Steve sat, a herd of women clustered around him. Sure, Steve never tipped, but every time you saw him at the club, he was never drooling over the strippers. Instead, he would be sitting over in the corner, just chatting up the ladies while they were on their break. Strangely enough, they always seemed to be more than eager to hang out with him, waving and blowing him kisses as they headed back onstage. It bewildered you, but it was kinda sweet in a weird way. “Wha- no! I don’t have any singles!” Bam shrugged at your reaction, turning to walk away, “Ah, I’m sure I can get some at the bar. Thanks though!”

The question you were about to ask Johnny, about where Chris was at, was answered before you could ask it. Just as Bam ran up to the edge of the stage with a handful of singles, excited to see some T and A, you could see his face just fall as he muttered to himself at the sight in front of him, “This is so fucked up….” You yourself stared slack jawed as Johnny snickered at the sight of Party Boy himself strutting out onto the stage wearing nothing but his silver mankini while the beginning riff of one of those cock rock strip club songs started up. Not one to miss this kind of thing for the world, Knoxville whipped out the camera to capture the wide eyed shock in Bam’s eyes that turned to disgust when Chris started his little routine, eyeing the fat stack of ones in his hand. He kept inching closer and closer to the edge of the stage- specifically, closer to Bam. Getting down on his knees, Chris wasn’t shy in the slightest about shaking what he had (which he had quite a great deal of), barely inches from his face. Even you couldn’t deny that he was pretty damn good up there, and it seemed that Johnny agreed as he got up to toss a couple singles up there with a whistle. As the song reached a crescendo, everything seemed to reach a fever pitch and Bam hurriedly shoved the bills in his arms onto the stage, unable to stand it any longer, “Just take my money- and get your junk outa my face!” Pontius smirked, tucking the cash in the strap of his mankini with a wink. He whispers something you couldn’t quite hear, but you assumed was some sort of flirty comment from the way Bam rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You know, this is how I wanna spend my night.” Johnny turned to you as you tried to speak up over the music, “Watching Chris strip.” He chuckled, leaning back on the sticky bar, drink in hand. “Yeah, me too.” The incandescent lights of the club looked so pretty in the reflection of Johnny’s glasses that you hardly noticed when Bam ran back to the bar in the stupid little way he ran everywhere, as Candy or Trixie or whoever was strutting out onstage. He just happened to cross paths with Chris, walking off the stage and flipping through all fifty two dollars he got. Bam stopped him in his tracks with a hand on his baby oil covered chest, “Dude. Gimme my money back.” Chris just gave him that stoner laugh and shook his head, “No way! I earned this. How about you go up there and shake your little moneymaker?” Bam turned a little red and debated arguing or just getting more money. Looking back up at the stage, he gave in, more concerned with what article of clothing the girl on stage was shedding than his own money.

But just a few moments later, it was him who was getting physically tossed out onto the sidewalk, landing on his ass. All you saw was this little dark blur getting hoisted up by this bouncer twice it’s size and going flying out the doors. Of course, all the guys followed behind, laughing as he stumbled to his feet. “Rookie mistake, man.” Steve joked, his hands in his pockets as a curious few of the ladies peered out the door after him. You should’ve known that of all people it would be Bam who got a little too handsy with the girls. Nobody on the street even stared at the spectacle as you fled outside after them. “Okay, that’s it- let’s just call it a night.” The guys collectively groaned about you being a killjoy and begged for just one more stop at another bar for a nightcap as you threw your hands up in the air, not easily swayed, “C’mon, it’s a sign. Let’s just get you all back to the hotel…”

You got them safely tucked away in their room for the night, but of course the chaos didn’t cease. Maybe an hour passed after you collapsed onto your mattress with the lights off, trying to get a few hours of shuteye before you had to deal with them in the morning when the shouting started. Chalking it up to some couple having a marital dispute next door, you brushed it off until you realized which room it was coming from. Oh. Oh no. Clambering to your feet, you jumped at the telltale sound of an appliance shattering against a wall and tried to run the numbers of how much that’d cost to cover as you scrambled out the door. Hoping it was just a coffee maker or something and not a repeat of the time Bam hurled an entire Zenith television out of a plate glass door, you barged in the room.

Now, you didn’t know what the argument was initially about, but you got the gist of it as Steve’s elbow made contact with your mouth, slamming into you. Everything froze. Just your luck to get caught in the crossfire of one of his drug induced fits. Bam, who was on the other side of the room, was completely shirtless, as was Steve, but significantly more all together mentally and seeming to be on the other side of whatever conflict was happening. Running your tongue over your teeth, you confirmed that none of them were missing, but that wet iron taste lingered on your lips. “Holy shit…” This quickly sobered Steve up, whose voice was barely a whisper as he watched the blood that got Jackson Pollocked all over your face drip down your chin and neck. That was one way to break up a fight.

Blood trickled down the drain as you held yourself over the bathroom sink in the guys’ room, blinking away the tears that swelled in your eyes. Everyone cries when they get hit in the nose- it’s probably a reflex or something, you thought, not that it hurt that bad. Glancing up to the mirror, you caught sight of someone standing in the doorway- Knoxville, holding this ice pack he fashioned out of a towel full of ice from the hall. It seemed that your waterworks had really gotten his attention, judging from the concerned tone in his voice, “Y’alright?” Taking it from him, you gently pressed it to your face, wincing at the cold sting. “M’fine.” He smirked but the tone of his voice was still present as he sat down on the lid of the toilet seat next to you, “You sure?” Johnny waved you closer, gesturing for you to lean down towards him. You did, and he reached out to gently grasp your chin, “Lemme see…well, that might leave a mark.” It was an oddly intimate moment, feeling his noticeably larger hand on top of yours as he went to move the ice pack. Leaning it to get a better look at your face, Johnny smiled just barely, “I think you’re gonna be alright.”

With the way the guys treated you the next day, you would’ve thought you were the queen of England. When you woke them up the next day, they didn’t whine or complain in the slightest, instead obediently getting out of bed and starting to get ready, avoiding your gaze. You felt like the headmaster at some British private school for undisciplined boys. As you stood idly in the doorway, perplexed at their sudden shift in behavior, you noticed something- Knoxville was MIA, and it seemed that nobody cared or was willing to say anything to you. Dipping your head in the door, you scanned the room, “Does anyone know where-“

Jumping a little, you caught your breath after the initial surprise when you realized it was Johnny who was standing next to you out in the hallway, maybe six inches away. He smirked at how easily he startled you and wordlessly handed you one of the two complementary breakfast coffees he had in his hands. Look at Mr. Suave-Cool, coming in with the apology drinks. Still, you weren't going to say no. Taking a sip and pondering how he could be the constant center of attention and, at the same time, so damn sneaky, you didn’t even notice when Bam sprang up from his bed, scampering to lean against the doorframe behind you. While all of the guys were quietly doing it already, Bam seemed the most eager to grovel, not even waiting for you to turn towards him before he started fawning with uncharacteristic earnestness, “Hey, I just wanna tell you I am so sorry about last night- I mean, it was totally Steve’s fault, but I feel so bad!” Immediately, you turned to Bam and looked him up and down, as did Johnny, who snickered at the fact that he was standing there without a care in the world, totally naked. At this point in the trip you were so desensitized to the male nudity that you didn’t even say anything. From behind him in the room Steve, who had his shirt halfway over his head, was clearly over his faux niceness by the way barked at Bam, “Oh, fuck you man!” But when you made eye contact with him, his ego shrank up like he just got into a cold pool as his voice dropped a decibel, “I-I mean, you looked pretty rad with all the blood and stuff...” Chris, who was totally unbothered by all of this, just smiled at you as earnest as ever, “Yeah! The blood was totally sexy, dude!”

“Is there anything I can do to make it up?” Bam looked at you with this eager to please look on his face, and you weren't one to pass up this opportunity. You thought that hell would freeze over before any of these guys would ask to do something nice for you. “Well…if you really want, you could grab me a danish from down front.” He started off before he glanced down and noticed the obvious. Quickly running back into the room to tug on a pair of jeans- no underwear, Bam slipped past you and ran down the hall in that same stupid way he did at the strip club.

While the guys were out for the day, you shot a call over to Ed the Medic, who was, as his name implied, an on set medic (if you could call him that) who they only really kept around because he really liked giving people pills, so this was maybe the first time anyone called him for a legitimate injury. He was nonetheless happy to pawn them off onto you. While you debated whether or not you should take them, the throbbing pain in the middle of your face failed to cease, so you gave in, throwing them back and hoping the high would wear off before the guys got back and you made a fool of yourself the same way they did with you.

For the first time that trip, nobody wanted to go out that night, not after the day they just had. Drenched in sweat from the hot Louisiana sun with sore muscles from a day of stunts, all anybody wanted to do was maybe have a beer and crash for the night. Nobody was more exhausted than Bam, who arguably had the worst day out of any of them. From getting locked in a trailer with snakes and racking his nuts to having to eat and by extension throw up a piece of cowshit- not even Johnny asking to take a gander at his sprained dick could bring any humor to the situation. So as soon as they got into the room they all fell onto beds or chairs or whatever they could find, content to call it a night before six. That is, until you came knocking on the door.

“Heyyy!!” Stumbling into the room, you were all giggles as you bumped into Johnny who had opened the door. He looked down at your purple, swollen face confusedly as you slurred your words, “Didn’t you guys wanna go out…? C’mon, let’s go. I wanna party!” Turning back to the other guys, they all reflected the same bewildered expression as his- never once had you ever expressed interest at partying, or at least their idea of partying. However, though he had arguably had the roughest day out of all of them, Bam’s mood shifted at your sudden change of opinion, getting up from his place on the bed with a grin and putting a paintball-scarred hand on Johnny’s shoulder, “Alright, you heard ‘em! Let’s party.”

The streets were nearly empty as you and the guys walked them. Hell, you didn’t even know you were on Bourbon street until you saw the street sign on the corner as you left the hotel, “Wait, this is that Marti gras place, right?” Johnny nodded as he walked close to you, making sure you didn’t run off or hurt yourself doing something stupid. He clearly wasn't doing a very good job at it, made apparent when you tugged your shirt up to your neck, squealing, “Oh! I’m gonna get some beads!” Imitating women who flashed for plastic at those parades, it seemingly didn’t occur to you that not only were you about three months late to the whole Marti gras thing, but you were doing it to nobody in particular. Johnny noticed, his eyes going a little wide as he grabbed the sides of your shirt, quickly but gently pulling it back down, “Woah, woah- Y/N,” There was this almost protective tone in his voice as he talked to you the way you usually talked to him when he had a few too many that night, “If you wait right here, I can get you some beads, okay? Just- just stay in this one spot.”

He returned shortly after with a handful of multi-colored strands of plastic beads, brilliant iridescent purple and greens under the gas lamps that lined the sidewalks. Your eyes sparkled, “Woah…you got these for me…?” Johnny nodded. Maybe instead of getting them from a float like you assumed he had ran into a gift shop and hastily bought the first bulk bag of necklaces he could find, but he wasn’t technically lying. As you happily pulled them over you head, Bam elbowed you in the side, raising his eyebrows as he leaned in with a grin, “I could get you some beads if you flash those titties again.” Before you could comply, which you would’ve been more than happy to do, Johnny put an arm between the two of you, pushing you apart. What a killjoy! Still, he gave you a good explanation, “You don’t need any’a Bam’s junky beads cause I got you the good ones- the fancy kind.” Looking down at the beads in your hand again, you weren't sure what made them so fancy as they just looked like any old beads to you, but you trusted him. “Besides” Johnny brushed Bam’s hand off of your shoulder, “Why don’t I take you out on that dinner I was talkin’ about?”

You spent half of the meal gushing to the guys about your shiny new beads you got, somewhat less high but far from sober. Chris and Steve found your predicament absolutely hilarious, sitting on either side of you with giddy smiles at their uptight manager who was finally getting in on the fun. The lot of you ate your dinner in that sleepy little twenty four hour cafe a block from your hotel (about as far as you had gotten) and afterwards Johnny took you back to the hotel and up to your room with an arm around your shoulders, preventing any further mishaps. Dragging your feet, you collapsed onto your bed in your jeans. He gently removed your shoes and tucked you in before quietly leaving to go back to his own room next door. If there was going to be another time you ever ended up high, he would be the man you would want to babysit you. Tomorrow would be the last day of shooting in New Orleans, and you would be mortified at the stories of your behavior, but for that moment that night everything was just perfect.

[cherrycoloredfaith]

BEAUTIFUL artwork for Kiss Off by my beautiful friend Ashley!!! she's so talented and beautiful thank you SO MUCH for being a part of this @ash-yuh

Kiss Off

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 5

Chapter 4

He left the bar first and set off down the road alone, getting to his car in a matter of minutes. He didn’t know where he was going, just that he needed to breathe again. Driving aimlessly for nearly twenty minutes he realized he was leaving the city, going to the only other place he knew: Munson Construction. The storm clouds in his head that had vanished at the bar returned on the drive. The roads were dark, but the air was clearer out here, and Steve couldn’t get enough of it. The wind wrecked his hair, whipping it around as he took deep breaths. Steve wondered if he should just book it to Hawkins and give up on all this. Wondered if he was ever really meant to leave his hometown. Wondered if he really messed up and should have just married that girl from high school. 

Parking in that same red dirt parking lot, he didn’t ask himself what he was doing because there was no point. He was going to wait it out, stay out of Robin’s hair and give her no reason to worry. Getting out of his car, he headed towards the front to lean on the hood and look out into the surrounding woods that reminded him of home. Except you could see right through them to the street lights beyond the thin cluster of trees. If he was in Hawkins, he could have looked out on a number of lakes within a few miles. Perfectly hidden and perfectly alone. Even out here, he could still hear distant cars from the busy highways, pulling him out of his reveries.

Steve wished he had a pack of cigarettes. Smoking never really tempted Steve until moments like these, where he was alone, searching for some sense of peace.  Pausing, he remembered the key to the clubhouse sitting in his pocket.

Maybe Eddie had some in his locker or office somewhere? Would it hurt to take just one?

Steve tossed his keys in the air, caught them, and thought once again, fuck it, they gave him a key anyway, right?

A single light illuminated the steps going up to the door, the screen door slamming against Steve’s back as he bent to unlock the deadbolt. Once inside, he felt along the wall for a light switch and failed. 

In the dark, his outstretched arms led his way around to the lockers, trying to use what little light came from outside the doorway. The red hard hat was the second locker from the right if his memory served him correctly, so once his hands made contact with the wall of open shelves, he started to rummage. He felt a small, soft cardboard box in the back of the highest shelf, thought, yes, and fumbled to open it in the dark. Just one. 

Steve heard a creak of the floor and his head snapped up, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark hallway beyond that led to Eddie’s office. Nothing but pitch black.

Suddenly, a yell rang out–no, more like a battle cry. The lights came on in a flash, giving Steve just enough time to register the baseball bat swinging for his head. He cowered down, covering his face with his arms as he shut his eyes tight, preparing for the blow. 

When none came, Steve peaked out of one eye at the scene before him. There stood Eddie, in Garfield pajama pants, bat still raised high, and hair coming out of its bindings–a look of utter confusion cast upon his face. 

“Whoa, dude, what the fuck?” Steve exclaimed once he’d found his voice. Is this guy going to kill me?

“Me, what the fuck? No, you, what the fuck?!” Eddie retorted, not moving to lower the bat. He looked from Steve’s face to his hands where he still clung to the pack of smokes. “Did you come all the way out here for those? I could have told you where to get your own. Jesus fucking Christ.”

“No, Eddie, God, I was just–” Steve realized he didn’t have a good explanation for this situation other than the truth. “Look, my roommate needed me out of the apartment for a bit, I was just driving around, looking for somewhere to go and I ended up here.” He shrugged. “And I wanted something to do. What are you doing here?” Steve was pointedly not looking at Eddie’s silly pajama pants. The last thing he needed was to be punched by his boss for laughing at his sleepwear.

“Shit, well, no fucking point now,” Eddie sighed and rested the bat on his shoulder. “I live here, asshole.” 

Steve didn’t know what to say to that, so he picked the first question that popped into his head. “Oh. So… do you normally go to sleep at 10:30 on Friday nights?”

Shutting his eyes, Eddie finally dropped the bat to his side, and Steve could breathe again. When he opened them again, he glared at Steve. “For your information, I was watching a goddamn movie.”

It finally clicked. “Why didn’t you say you lived here before? I thought that was your office,” said Steve, looking towards the dark hallway.

“Because not everyone knows. It was supposed to be a temporary thing, I just didn’t want to stay with Wayne anymore, and it was convenient. I pay him rent, but it’s nothing like what the city would cost me.” He looked defensive. 

Steve just nodded, unsure of what to make of it all. Before he knew it, Eddie had walked back into his office–bedroom– and then returned with one shoe on his foot, the other in his hand, his bat nowhere to be seen. He hopped down the hallway trying to pull the other sneaker on.

“Alright,” said Eddie when he succeeded. “Come on, then.”

Steve didn’t move as he passed by, wafting a soft, sweet scent from his clothes. “Huh?”

“You need to waste some time, let’s waste it.” He was leading Steve through a door he hadn’t noticed before leading out of the kitchen. He grabbed a tin lunchbox as they headed outside. Steve followed as if on autopilot onto a surprisingly cozy, covered back porch, fit with a table, chairs, and even a couch and coffee table that made up for the missing furniture inside. It looked homey. 

Eddie set the box down to plug in some string lights that provided enough illumination for them to see one another. They sat on opposite sides of the couch; once Steve saw Eddie prop up his feet, he did, too, hoping to give any semblance of a relaxed state–when, really, his heart was hammering in his chest. 

When Eddie opened the lunchbox in his lap, Steve immediately got a whiff of what was inside, and he prayed a silent thank you to whatever fates led him here. Eddie looked over at Steve with a grin. “You seemed like you’d need something stronger than those.”

That was the second time Steve forgot about the cigarettes clutched in his palm; he decided to set them down and nod as a sign of his gratitude. 

Then, Eddie started to roll his own joint as if he’d done this a million times. Steve even saw that he had proper rolling papers. He watched him with fascination while Eddie focused on his task. No words were spoken between them, but something about the silence felt comfortable. No, not comfortable, but… anticipating.  Steve stared in awe at how relaxed he was, delicately licking the edge of the paper to hold it closed. Eddie’s hair was almost completely out of the low bun it was in and long strands dangled down, creating a curtain around his eyes. Steve had the urge to brush it aside.

“How’s the sunburn?” Eddie asked. 

“The what?” Steve blinked out of his trance. His heart was pounding. 

“Dude, you’ve got to snap out of it. Did I scare you that bad?” Eddie leaned in, searching Steve’s eyes for something.

“No, no, I’m fine, I swear. Thank you.” What was he thanking him for? Steve was screaming at himself on the inside, begging him to regain his cool. “I’m so sorry–for barging in like this. I can go, you don’t have to let me stay.”

“I know, Steve. It’s cool. To be honest it gets… a little lonely living out here, not being in the city. Your presence is welcomed, for now.” He shot Steve another smile and began to light the end of the joint. Steve starts to wonder if Eddie has already done this once tonight based on his low, honeyed voice, the slightest glaze over his eyes. 

“Where’s Wayne’s?” wondered Steve.

“Closest suburb to the east of here. Not ten minutes down the road when there’s no traffic. I just needed some space to learn how to take care of myself, but still save some money.” He took a drag. “And to smoke without worrying about Mrs. Wheeler next door calling the cops,” he added, chuckling devilishly low as if it was something that actually happened. 

Steve took the pass, inhaling deeply, trying to hide his little coughs. “What movie?” he asked as he stretched his arm back out for Eddie to take the joint from his hands.

Eddie looked over and laughed. “Can you speak more than two words at a time?”

Steve rolled his eyes and snatched his hand back, moving it out of Eddie’s grasp to take another hit. “Fine, fine! I mean, what movie were you watching before I broke into your house?”

“Technically you didn’t break in, you have a key.”

Steve flushed. “That’s another thing to get back to. Are you avoiding the question?”

“Never. I was watching Back to the Future 2,” he said matter-of-factly, chin held high as he took back the joint, fingers brushing Steve’s, sending a shiver up his arm. “Arguably, the superior of the two films. With triple the Michael Fox. ” Eddie looked up at the lights dreamily. 

“Dude, what? You’re lying to me. The original is so much��wait, what?” he asked, caught off guard by Eddie’s last words.

He laughed, “Kidding, Harrington! So far, the original one reigns supreme.” He winked, but his gaze didn’t linger. “That was actually going to be my first time seeing it until…” he gestured to the two of them sitting on the couch. 

The confusion Steve was experiencing at Eddie’s implications caused him to flush again. “Oh,” was all he said in response. Maybe he should ask him if he’s into guys. “So why give out keys to literally your home? Does everyone have them?” Steve screamed at himself in his head. 

“Usually I don’t have to worry about anyone I work with thinking anything valuable is inside. Tonight I was sorely mistaken. And no, not everyone has one, but anyone needs to be able to get in, so…” Eddie shrugged. “It’s worked out for me so far. I keep my room locked too during the day, so don’t get any ideas.” He smiled.

Steve decided not to ask why he received one after his first day, and instead decided to change the subject. “My roommate wouldn’t really have kicked me out herself, but I knew she’d want the place since she was the only one getting lucky tonight.” Oh, God. Why did he have to bring that up?

“Ahhhh, are we in love with said ‘roommate’? Here on a feel-sorry-for-yourself evening escapade?” Eddie tilted his head to the side, peering at Steve through lidded eyes. 

“No. Seriously, it’s not like that. She’s my best friend. We went to this place downtown… near Pennsylvania Avenue,” Steve was cautious with his words, but he couldn’t help it. He had to know. “I forgot the name. Do you know any bars over there?”

Eddie met Steve’s eyes, but his were unreadable. “Yeah, I know of one. Did they play a lot of dream pop?”

“Yes!” Steve exclaimed, trying not to sound too overly excited that Eddie picked up on a similar detail as him. And appeared to have visited the same bar as him. This probably meant he was cool, but he still couldn’t tell anything about him. He should just ask. “Yes, that one. Red door?”

Eddie nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Tell me more about her. Your roommate.”

Steve got lost in talking about his best friend for a moment. He was familiar with giving the usual exposition of how they met working at an ice cream parlor but had gone to school together for years. They were inseparable ever since, up until she graduated and decided to go to college, which Steve hadn’t got in. He was so grateful she was close by, but he always felt that he couldn’t follow. When Robin’s scholarship finally let her live off campus, Steve was elated to come join her somewhere new. 

“So, she’s the whole reason why you're here?” Eddie asked. 

“Kind of. She’s who really got me out of my hometown,” replied Steve, shrugging.

“Hmm, sounds like you might be in love with her…” Eddie repeated. “Why else would you want to move just to work such a shit job with such a shit boss?” He gestured to himself, topped with a sickly sweet smile. 

“Seriously, dude, that ship has sailed. Or never even made it in the water. Or doesn’t even exist. I don’t–I don’t see her like that,” Steve answered, not sure if Eddie could pick up on what he meant. The weed was starting to cause his thoughts to swim around in his head. “This was the only job I got called back for.”

“Oh,” said Eddie. The joint had sat forgotten between his fingers as they spoke. Now, Eddie lit it once more, taking a drag. Instead of turning his head to blow the smoke away from Steve like he had before, he leaned in, locked eyes with him; he blinked slowly as he directed his exhale at Steve’s face in a powerful gust. Steve groaned, made a face and put up his hands, pretending to be bothered by it while his stomach did somersaults; he had to fight to not stare at his lips. “Guess Wayne was desperate, huh?” Eddie kidded.

“Hah, yeah, I guess so,” Steve nervously laughed to shake himself out of the trance Eddie put him in. He knew Eddie was reasonably joking, but it wasn’t far from what Steve suspected was the truth. But speaking the words out into the world of his failures didn’t hurt as much with the weed in his system. It didn’t feel so much his own fault as it was the nature of the outside world. Life outside a small town. Simple truths you learn as you age. Finding a job is hard, being gay is dangerous, etc. 

A quiet silence fell over them as they finished those last puffs of the joint. It was comfortable, but Steve couldn’t help but feel the absence of the words between them. It was nearing midnight according to Eddie’s digital watch on his wrist. Was it really just hours before Steve overheard Eddie complaining about him? Saying he was going to “ruin everything”? 

Steve jostled at the memory, the same concerns from before settling in. He had to ask. 

“Eddie… What happened last summer?” Steve urged. 

Their eyes met again. When did they get so close? Steve could see the expanses of Eddie’s brown eyes. They suddenly darkened, and it was as if Steve was being pulled forward ever so slightly. 

Then, Eddie pulled his legs back, leaned forward, and propped his elbows on his knees, putting distance between them as if nothing had happened. He looked out to the darkness of the woods ahead.

“Nothing that actually concerns you. I’m sorry you heard me yell,” he revealed, defeated and ashamed. “This guy on my crew last year, he caused a lot of problems. Didn’t treat Max well either.”

Steve’s stomach flipped again; so Eddie was referring to him with that outburst. Steve wasn’t sure what this last guy had to do with him. He hadn’t caused any problems like that, right? He barely remembered what he did that day.  Steve paused, taking in the information; he had that same feeling again, that there was more to be said about his guy, but before he could pry further, Eddie interrupted. 

“Anyways, you might want to be heading back before it gets too late. You good to drive? I don’t have anywhere for you to crash,” asked Eddie. 

Taken aback, Steve nodded, feeling dismissed. They stood to walk inside; Steve paused to assess how high he was only to find he was hardly buzzed. He was surprised, certain that he felt so much more a second ago.

Steve couldn’t tell what Eddie was thinking as his face was blank when they walked along a dirt path in the trailer to the front door. Eddie held it open for him as Steve tried to think of something to say.

“Thanks! For hanging out I mean, and the smoke.” Steve hoped he was successful at attempting to sound casual. In return, Eddie gave a familiar grin, nodding once and shutting the door behind him without another word.

Steve stood there for a moment, wondering why bringing up this guy set Eddie off so badly. He wished he could have stayed for longer, but it was getting late. Sighing, Steve brushed off his nerves and walked towards his car to head home. 

As Steve drove that evening, despite abruptly being sent home, he couldn't help but to be hopeful. Steve could drop the whole last summer issue if Eddie could. He imagined himself enjoying himself at work, making Eddie laugh, making him proud. Becoming his friend. Really learning how to do the work. He smiled to himself as he walked up to his apartment. He didn’t even feel so lonely when giggling drifted up from under Robin’s door. Steve went to bed in his new room finally feeling a little at peace. He fell asleep to the image of Eddie’s smile behind his eyes. 

[piratefishmama]

Crossing The Line | Part 7

Again. Right. Okay. Again, Kas wanted him to say it again. Cool. Definitely wasn’t high key anxiety inducing to do it the first time. Robin was right, straight from wooed to the apartment? Probably not going to happen, he was super overestimating his level of game.

He had no game. None, nada, zip, zilch, bupkis.

He almost bailed, almost bolted with his tail between his legs but no, no he’d be brave, sure this man was kind of an asshole to him and honestly it may be a bad idea because what if he was still an asshole, like… what if he was just constantly an asshole, like… toxic kind of asshole. He had to hope though, someone that pretty couldn’t be awful, right? In what universe would that be fair?

“Uh… you, me, dinner? Tonight maybe? Or tomorrow if that’s better. Or… or y’know, any day this week, I’m flexible.”

“Why?” The guy practically choked, his grip on the rolling pin loosening a little. “I mean—why me?” Why him? Why him? God why him? Why the nerdy metalhead whose name he didn’t even know? Why the guy who’d spent a whole week bitching him out over social media over an experiment? Steve didn’t know.

He had no idea! He didn’t know why he’d fallen so hard so fast, why he’d spent hours just watching those talented fingers dance along the neck of that beautiful warlock, he had no idea, Steve was just following the dopamine and Kas seemed to be an endless supply of it for him.

“Uhm, I like you?”

“You don’t even know me, dude. In fact, the only knowledge you have of me is that I bitched you out for a week.” True, he didn’t seem to be gearing up to apologise for that either. The anxiety was only growing by the second, oh no. He felt so small all of a sudden, so stupid, of course it was stupid, he never should have come. “And now you come and what… hunt me down at work and ask me out? That’s so fuckin weird an I’m—"

“Grass, bitch, and I’m the mower!!” Steve had to spin round fast just to catch Robin as she stormed in there having been listening close by the door, the grip on that rolling pin tightened again.

“Jesus H. Christ!” The rolling pin poised to launch.

“Robin, no!”

“No he’s being mean again! I’m not having it! You spent a whole week just lying there mooning over this fucking idiot’s hands for crying out loud even when he was being a dick to you for something you only did for fun and now we’ve come all this way and he’s being mean in person and I’m not having it, I refuse, lemme at him!” Honestly ‘Kas’ was lucky Steve was as strong as he was, Robin would have gotten out of that hold easy if he were any weaker.

“Mean?! I’m being HONEST, you psycho!”

“Motherfucker, I’ll show you psych—"

“ROBIN!” She stopped struggling. Steve rarely raised his voice, honestly the only time he ever raised his voice was when the kids were involved. When pushy labels or producers tried shit with his kids, that was the only time Steve ever raised his voice. Also that one brief stint in acting where the script demanded it. “Go back outside.”

“But—”

“Go, i’m a grown man, I can fight my own battles, now go back out there.” His voice back to its usual soft tone, she shot the other man a sharp glare before returning back through the swinging door “go sit down! Away from the door!”

“FINE!” She’d have only lingered behind that door again if he hadn’t told her not to. Steve kept an eye on the door for a moment, just in case, before turning back to Kas, his shoulders slumping as a deep sigh escaped him at the sight. The poor guy was backed right into that little gap, rolling pin clutched tight to his chest, this was a bad idea, he looked so freaked.

“I’m sorry.” Steve breathed softly. “I’m sorry for Robin, she’s uh—she’s protective, and um, for turning up out of nowhere, for scaring you, I really didn’t mean to turn up at your work, this was… this was hugely by a weird amount of chance,I just… I was going to go to your gig? We even bought clothes for it but uhm… shit, I should have just... I dunno, dm’d you or something, it would have been easier.” Probably wouldn’t have wasted the money on the flights or the apartment that way, Kas could have just rejected him over DM! “And uh… I’m not stupid, like… I know I don’t know you, I still don’t know your actual name, or if you even like guys, I wasn’t assuming just… hoping, but… I dunno, I was hoping at dinner I could get to know you an y’know… we’d hit it off despite our obvious differences in musical preferences…” maybe they could have been friends if nothing else.

The silence drew on for a moment, Steve had said his piece, and Eddie was clearly processing it, eyes flitting, micro expressions creasing his brow, his jaw shifting in a way that made it obvious that he was chewing on the inside of his cheek, and the grip on the rolling pin had relaxed again.

“…You were going to come to my gig?”

“Mmhm, Tuesday 9pm, right? Robin forced me to get different clothes because what I was going to wear probably wouldn’t have cut it.”

“What were you going to wear?”

“You’ll mock me.”

“I won’t.”

“You will”

“I promise I won’t.”

“…Promise?”

“Scouts honour.” He even put the rolling pin down to do the little hand gesture. Cute, Steve thought to himself.

“I’m dubious of your history of boy scoutery” he could see the quirk of a lip, just a little ghost of a smile at the corner of Kas’s lips “but fine, okay, I’ll trust you to be gentle, I have this really nice grey sweater vest, and I was gonna put a—” his words cut short by the snort of a laugh that bubbled from his ridiculous crush “You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

“Sweetheart, I said I wouldn’t mock, I said nothing about laughing” sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart— moving on. “A sweater vest at a metal gig? Cute.” The way his voice dipped? Unfair on every level.

Every single goddamn level.

“Y-yes well, now I have a new outfit, so you won’t get to see the sweater vest.”

“Oh, oh no” Kas clutched his hand to his chest as if pained “the pain! Jail for you, jail for one hundred years, you’ve hurt me so very deeply. Jail for the pretty boy.” Pretty boy? Steve felt those invasive little bastard butterflies kick up a flurry in his chest, pretty boy? “I really won’t ever get to see the sweater vest? That’s just a goddamn travesty, truly” it sounded sarcastic but honestly it also didn’t. It was a weird mix, like he was taking the piss but also being genuinely honest. “Worst punishment you could give me, no sweater vest for Eddie.”

Eddie.

“No sweater vest for Eddie” Steve parroted with a smile so full of sunshine warmth that Eddie couldn’t stop himself from mirroring it. Maybe… maybe it wasn’t a lost cause then… maybe he could still make this work maybe— “So… uhm… dinner?” Maybe he wouldn’t get shot down if he asked again.

“…Ask me again after the gig if you enjoy the show.” Oh the hopes, they were HIGH, he knew he’d like the show! He knew he would! “Now, about that coffee you and your menace to society came in for.”

“Fuckin heard that you moms' basement dwelling bitch baby!!”

“She seems lovely.” Steve only let out a quiet snrk of a laugh.

Part 9

[maircries]

Mair’s Episode Thirty Five Relisten

“No. Wait. Are we blowing up? No? Yeah, don’t care.”

But also Doug’s little “uhhhh, not that I’m aware?”

They really are so

Yeah

I understand it’s space logistics but still, the image of everyone drinking coffee out of a fucking straws is so funny to me

Lmaoooo I forgot about the fucking

Poor Minkowski

Straw in mug? With lid? How? Because that slurping sound was straw slurping, I know what straw slurping sounds are. And also, again, space and gravity logistics

But Renee shattering glass/ceramic with her hands? Hottttt

He’s such a dick about the weather, Jesus fucking Christ that’s basically weather

Fucking love jacobi so goddamn much

I love Alana too

This is so great

I love the hating on colonel Kepler show

In this moment I truly don’t fucking understand how Jacobi and Maxwell can be so unwaveringly loyal to him. Like, obviously there’s trust in life or death situations and also bonds forged through that, but this man regularly threatens you and your well being. How tf does that inspire loyalty?? Am I just being a scorpio about it or something??

Oh it’s this episode!!! Quack!!

“I didn’t do it!”

What a perfect setup to let everyone find out his deepest shame and haunting past

I would truly abuse this situation so fast and dig out all the classified shit about my situation and the colonel, not just my coworkers

I’d be BLASTING this shit, making copies printing it out, Regina George style

“Mhm mhm mhm”

They bully Eiffel so goddamn much :(((

Truly the addiction is totally fucking understandable, especially learning how exactly she broke her arm

I do feel bad about Renee getting made fun of for her musical theatre bit, she’s already ashamed of it but she’s probably super fucking talented at it

Jacobus fear of ducks brings me so much goddamn joy

“No I’m no-!”

“Quack.” *in the coldest most flat tone of voice* “stop that” “quaaaaack” “I said stop it!”

The airing out of the court documents is so fucked up

Hers talking about the difficult relationships with family, holy fucking shit. Things that don’t ever hit until you go back and listen again

“Shut up pill popper!” “QUACKKKK!”

I’m imagining poor Eiffel fucking banging his head on something as Kepler tells him more fucking stories and jokes this while goddamn time

Poor Eiffel

The very tense music during this is killing me ngl

The fucking impression of Maxwell

THE CHEESE

I FORGOT ABOUT THE CHEESE TOO

“Excuse me?”

“You snore!” “YOU CAN GET EARPLUGS!”

“In this about the cheeses? Goddamnit you said you didn’t mind the cheeses!”

“I can’t even look at you right now”

Minkowskis pride about the sedative, it’s so goddamn funny

Also Jacobi why the fuck are you judging

“For science!”

Hey where’s Hilbert during this?

“Yeah I just realized that a second ago and now I’m embarrassed and sorry that I yelled at you! You insensitive android!”

Yeah so why you judging about the sedatives Jacobi, you blew up a hospital!

Dude just look up all the shit on Kepler and judge HIM

And also pull as many confidential files you can about the mission so you maybe don’t get taken by surprise

They take such a comedic episode and fucking.,,.,. How could they

God and then Doug fucking walks in 😭😭😭

Holy fucking shit man

Goddamn, just, what was everyone thinking as he walked in

Minkowski is trying to be normal about it, but she’s so audibly shaken up it’s insane

Sorry but. Quack. Still so goddamn funny

The way she sounds so fucked about seeing Eiffel rn

Does she think that he found out that she knows what he did? What was running through her mind when he said he wanted to apologize?

God he’s just so. Fucking responsible. When it comes down to it. I’m so unwell about him

She’s trying to make these two different people make sense into one person

Yall aren’t ready for me to get to the full backstory episode, I’m gonna be SO unwell about that

Jacobi you piece of shit

I love you

She wants so hard to have faith in him. And she should and shouldn’t. And I love that there’s duality in that, that you don’t have to be a saint to be a person worth caring about if you want to be better

But yeah Jacobi why are you stirring this shit up so much

I really want to know why Jacobi is trying to shake Renee about this, like, did he know? Is he playing it off? Is it a scheme to try and break the team apart?

“Good night! 😃”

Dude I was so fucking shook listening to this episode tho, I was coming up with all the different ways that it could be a good deed out under a bad lense

But again, I actually really like the choice they made for him. Like, he wasn’t a bad dad, but he was a bad adult, and you can understand him, and you can see how it all went wrong, and he loved her so much, too much and that hurt her, it wasn’t a good thing and maybe he’s not a good person, but by god he wants to be a better one, you can’t just take your punishment and say you’ll be better, put the work in, ship yourself to space so that this company will pay for all the best treatments, give her a good life even if it’s one without you in it, you’re not a good person but you will work to be a better one

Also!! Maybe he didn’t tell the crew but. When hilbert implies that he knows about why he was sent up here? He doesn’t deny what he did, or try to downplay it at all. He doesn’t defend himself at all for the actions. And when he and Minkowski finally hash it out, he doesn’t try to make himself seem sympathetic, he gives her the facts as he had them, how he felt at the time. He doesn’t hide anything.

This is just another reason why I love Doug and why he’s my favorite and a million other things. He’s just. He. Him. Yeah.

Good night! 😃 quack

No seriously I’m going to bed for the night we’ll continue tomorrow

[sageappa]

Ok, so, hear me out, HEAR ME OUT. I promise this is good speculation for GO3.

Good Omens was renewed for a third and final season. (I have been screaming and crying out of joy since 15:05 of my time zone, the exact time when Good Omens Prime's X account posted the news. But that's not the point.)

Mr. Gaiman, about this renewal, said:

"Season One was all about averting Armageddon, dangerous prophecies, and the End of the World. Season Two was sweet and gentle, although it may have ended less joyfully than a certain Angel and Demon might have hoped. Now in Season Three, we will deal once more with the end of the world. The plans for Armageddon are going wrong. Only Crowley and Aziraphale working together can hope to put it right. And they aren't talking."

So if I read it correctly, and if my English as a non-native isn't failing me, it seems that this time Aziraphale and Crowley actually intend to make Armageddon happen.

The plans are going wrong. Together, they can hope to put it right.

So what on Earth could have made them change so drastically their idea? What changed? Did Metatron do something to Aziraphale? Did Crowley get so depressed without his Angel that he'd rather have the world get destroyed? Naaah. Nah, I don't think so. They're both too attached to Earth and earthly beings to change their minds so quickly.

No, my guess is Armageddon changed.

It should have been how the Bible says: the coming of the Antichrist, the Four Horsemen riding, the enormous battle, etc. But it wasn't. And the Antichrist (or former Antichrist, since he refused Satan's paternity) won't collaborate to make the world end. What to do then, if both Heaven and Hell wanted it so bad?

Well. If Hell didn't make it, Heaven could get their try. (And Crowley knew this. Crowley knew that they'd come to some similar solution. That's why "he understands it a lot better than Aziraphale does.")

At the very end of Season Two, we hear this conversation between Metatron and a very unhappy Angel:

METATRON: Well, I can't think of a better angel to wrap things up, and to set into motion the next step in the great plan.

AZIRAPHALE: Um, yes, you mentioned that. Can I know what it is?

METATRON: Well, it's something we need an angel of your talents to direct. An angel who is familiar with how they do things on Earth.

AZIRAPHALE: Ah.

METATRON: We call it the Second Coming.

So Heaven is going to make their move. And it will be with a Second Coming - another Christ, another son (or daughter?) of God. With Armageddon in their minds.

It's the Anti-Antichrist.

Aziraphale is now the Supreme Archangel and, as Gabriel did with the very first Annunciation, he will have to give the happy news to the mother of this baby. In a contemporary world. Where no one would believe that easily the "it's God's son!" story. Yeah, good luck Aziraphale, no wonder Heaven needed someone who spent six thousand years on Earth to do this job. (And if they're planning Armageddon, who cares if Aziraphale still is Supreme Archangel, there would be just heavenly sounds and no problems at all after Heaven wins the war. Right? Just let the dude with a lot of knowledge about human do the job and then whatever.)

But. Do you really think that Aziraphale would just do it and make Armageddon happen exactly as intended by Heaven? Do you really think that, after what happened, after the Armageddon't, after him having to say no to his beloved Demon and losing him - and even though all of this happened he was still ready to throw himself in Heaven, in that lions' pit made of angels that always bullied him! -, after the courage he showed and the hope to make a change and do good -- do you really think he would just say "yes" to this? (I know, I lost my English here, I'm sorry, I'm just super-hyped.)

Oh, no, come on. He's still enough of a bastard worth knowing.

He is the Supreme Archangel, and even if everyone would just want him to be a nice puppet and do what the others say to him, he won't throw away his shot, I can assure you that. (How fun would it be though to have a scene where Michael and Uriel are kind of arguing between themselves about who should "suggest" Aziraphale what to do? And then Saraquel having to intervene?) No, no, Aziraphale learned from Crowley that sometimes he has to make his voice a little louder and be more incisive, as shown when in the last episode of Season Two he takes the lead in the library - while Heaven and Hell discuss what to do with Gabriel and Beelzebub. And he will do that again. He will make everything he can. He sacrificed his own happiness with Crowley for that. He cannot fail... and he has to do it alone. It's scary. He'll be anxious, but he'll do it. For the world. For good. For Crowley too. And for sushi.

So Aziraphale will try to make Armageddon something different. It's not "the" Armageddon, it's "his" Armageddon. Or theirs. He would have loved it, to be theirs - his and Crowleys'.

Our beloved angel is spot on in finding all those little quibbles that allow him to not go openly against the rules but also not follow them strictly. Maybe he'd find something also for the Armageddon. Maybe he'd find an Armageddon that would involve only Heaven and Hell, leaving the world and humans be. Maybe the Armageddon will become a way to reinvent Heaven and Hell. Make them fight, have their war on some galaxy far away from Earth, "destroy themselves" (I'll get to this later) and then a new Heaven and a new Hell would rise from their ashes. You know, how they became toxic, and everything else Crowley always repeats? Maybe it is not possible to change them without them having their war. They won't stop until they'll have had it, so maybe the only way is to give them war.

Or at least, to make them believe it.

What if Aziraphale and Crowley would actually need to collaborate in order to trick Heaven and Hell into thinking they had/are having their war? What if this plan cannot be done just by an angel? What if this is their only chance to stop this madness, once and for all, even though it's not easy for neither of them to get in contact again so soon after what happened?

[houseofwaywardsubs]

The reason why I roll my eyes at a lot of kink stuff in the fields I'm interested in is because... I can't buy into it.

A lot of women are pretty great. The women I love are brilliant and talented and funny and incredible.

And jesus fucking christ a lot of men are fucking terrible. Dumb and unimaginative and cruel and boring.

So, I can't get behind the idea that these dudes are just inherently superior to all women or something. Because... She's better than you.

She just gets dumb and needy and pathetic for me.

[ssreeder]

oh my god. oh my goodness fucking gracious me.

so I just have to tell you that I found your fic this morning and I fucking SPEEDED through that shit (even though it was SO long--IM NOT COMPLAINING I LOVE LONG FICS) but oh my god. oh my god

you're so talented??? first of all, like I'm on my knees wondering where all this came from. like you came up with this?? it was in your head?? and you wrote it by yourself? oh my god reSPECT

also it's so beautifully written‼️‼️ I went back and looked at the character development and the everything because good lord it was so well paced. like I was on the edge of my bed seat during every single chapter. good lord

zukka + all of ATLA is my current hyperfixation and your fic has soothed me so completely

jesus christ on a cracker do you understand how talented you are?? do you *grabs you aggressively by the shoulders and stares deeply into your eyes* DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW INCREDIBLE AND SKILLFUL AND GORGEOUS THIS IS??? PLEASE

okay but in all seriousness, here are some of my favorite lines(mostly from the last chapter because jesus fuck I do nOT have time to scroll back through everything your wrote):

"And here he was, all these years later… not used to it. He knew he would never get used to the blood curdling scream a person made when the fire stripped their body clean and their bones were reduced to nothing but a pile of ash and a terrible smell.

No wonder the world referred to them as ash-makers."

Jesus fucking fuck. CHILLS BBY I HAD CHILLS

"Watch out for your little brother" OHOHOHO HEHEEEE

"'Your teacher will be someone who has mastered Neutral Jing. You need to find someone who waits and listens before striking. Do not worry about your old friend Aang, he isn’t buried in the ground yet!' Bumi cackled the way that he had since they were just kids.

...

'The white lotus Pai Sho piece? I don’t have a set, no one else knows how to play.'"

AHAHAH THE TOPH AND UNCLE IROH DROP IM GOING TO BE SICK

"I'll go wherever you go." KILLING MYSELF WHY ARE THEY SO SWEET

anyway that's enough from me (I feel like you should know I typed all of this while either rolling around on the floor screaming or sitting very still with a DEEPLY disturbing (so I'm told) and very somber expression on my face).

i hope you have a lovely day you gorgeous beautiful perfect human being

This is me reading your ask… dude wtf this is so nice!!!!

I AM BEING SHOULDER GRABBED WITH LOVE AND I REALLY LIKE IT AHHHHH!!! its so funny because its been so long since i wrote the first book you sent me those quotes and im like uhhhuhhh ohhh yeah mhmmmm wait i wrote that?? Haha (except the “watch out for your little brother”) cause that was twisted in a way that made me smirk.. haha that sentence meant so much!!! (I do think the bumi quote was directly from canon though so I take zero credit for that just trying to keep it canon haha)

I’m glad you like my writing enough to come scream at me. I love when people scream kind words at me I WANT TO BE SHOULDER GRABBED WITH PRAISE MORE AHHHHH!!!

thanks for this epic ask you’re fucking amazing never change

[galvanizedfriend]

hiii friend!! happy new year!!! it's already 00.45 here in Italy! 🥹

Just wanted to say that I'm so glad I had you and your amazing stories through this year, especially because they kept me sane during my final exams session 🥹

You're amazing, Yokan, and anyone who's able to read can see how passionate and talented you are.

I wish you the best for 2025! (especially about sport season since I've seen how much those little dudes who run behind a ball can influence your mood 😭😭) .

Love u, can't wait to see more of your works <3

You are so sweet, friend! 🥹 Thank you so much for always being so supportive and kind! You have truly helped me to push through some tough writer's block and kept motivated to continue TW. 🥹

I hoep you have a wonderful new year too! ✨ And thank you for wishing me luck with my silly boys running after a ball because truly 🥲 The way i'm already stressing about that on January 1st, Jesus Christ 🥲

[stinger-shot]

Yey! Silly vent because I feel like shit!

Read under the cut if you want the juicy ass details

So basically, I gotta let this shit out.. its fucking me up a bit rn.

I met this dude around the start of 2021 on tiktok AND HE WAS SO TALENTED AND FUNNY but he always said he wasn't. Anyway time skip a lil..

We started getting into a few arguments near the middle of 2022. And they where just small disagreements then they gradually got worse and worse every time it happend. And it especially got bad when I made another friend on tiktok who loved doing art related things and drew my old persona back then.

And HE WAS NOT HAVING IT and he said quite alot of bad things to me. Did I stay friends with him? Yes I did. Did I also block the nice guy just trying to be my friend? Yes. I blocked them out of fear of loosing my best friend.

And near the end of 2022 we started dating because things had gotten a better.

Oh how I was so wrong. Everything just went downhill when he left high-school. He always needed attention. He got mad at me because I couldn't set an alarm BECAUSE he was up at 10am and I was up near 1pm. So I forced myself to do so mutch bullshit for him. Like draw him art as an apology and it drained me do badly I could hardly do my own personal art.

I didn't even have personal art at this point. Every time I fixated on something it was what he was fixating on because he'd get mad at me and argue with me if I wasn't.

But everything was calm when it was around April in 2023 and we where finally getting along like an actul couple because of a game called final fantasy. We where obsessed with it for months! And then around June or July I re discovered transformers.

I have never felt as happy in a fandom since 2019! Like holy shit the fandom is so sweet.

But I kept it a secret from him he still doesn't know. Then at some point I made this tumblr to get my stupid little urges out and now look at where I'm at. I haven't been this happy in a LONG while.

And just st the start of 2024 my ex got into an argument with one of his friends and I offered to talk to them. so he agreed and I spoke to them.

Im so fucking glad I did.

Because without their help I'd still be fucking miserable. They gave me the confidence to dump that bitches ass and I honestly feel like a weight has been taken off. Because it honestly felt like a chore every day of my life just talking to him.

And my other friend on discord had helped me out to. Including you silly fuckers on discord/tumblr. If your even reading this... if you are why are you still reading this?

But anyway. I just needed this off my chest. Because it does hurt a little spite how good i feel but I just have an off feeling. I haven't put down everything that happend while I was with my ex and some things might be in the wrong order or time but at least I'm forgetting it?

Just. I love the transformers fandom so mutch mutch really helped me pull through...

Fuck I'm ranting. Uh. Bye!

Also a big thank you to Avery and rex for helping me feel better (rex I've only known you for a little bit but jesus christ I fucking laugh my ass off because of you) jesus I'm sappy as fuck. (and avery your so fucking cool. You helped me alot.) And belyyvolks (I've had alot of fun messing around about ironhide XD) I'm not tagging because I don't want alot of attention on this post.