#wes borland imagines | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

memobread · 2 years ago

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wes borland fluff *as requested*

hey loves, daddy bread's back to unzip his fly and spurt out sum adorable wes fluff <3

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POV: u work at a morgue and come home super exhausted and drained, but Wes comes and cuddles u to death <3

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...WHOOOOOOOSH...

The howling, cruel snowy wind whipped through the thin windows of your 1998 Toyota Camry - as if God himself was preventing you from heading home because he felt like fucking with you that particular night.

...this is why i worship Rattama...

When you finally arrived home after reflecting on all the dead bodies you had to work with during your twelve-hour shift, you gathered up all your weak limbs and flopped over to the front door of the tiny, rickety yet cozy house you shared with your husband, Wes. With a heave of your exhausted self, you stumbled through the door, immediately getting hit in the face with a pleasant wave of warm, saturated air.

...wessy is home <3...

You took off your shoes and pattered up to the kitchen counter, where Wes sat editing an unreleased Limp Bizkit song. He wore his nerdy little black-and-green-striped sweater and comfy jeans. It took a while for him to notice you because of how honed in he was on his craft, but when he did, his pretty eyes lit up.

"...oh, hey babe...how was work?" Wes yawned, standing up to go give you a hug.

You hummed and slithered your arms around his waist.

"...it was tiring...as usual...how about you?...how was your day hon?..."

Wes rested his chin on your head and held you, rubbing your back gently.

"...it was okay..."

Wes took a strand of your hair into his mouth.

"Wanna go to bed?"

You nodded, letting go of him to lace your tiny fingers in his long ones. He led you to the bedroom and undid his belt.

"...lemme just slip into something more comfortable..."

Wes stripped lazily in front of you, stepping into a comfy pair of plaid pajama pants and remaining shirtless. Before he finished you made sure to give his round, plump, juicy ass a nice smack.

"...damn girl...double-cheeked up on a friday night?..."

Wes chuckled, landing a playful slap on your tummy. You snickered and stripped down, changing into a hoodie and sweatpants. Sure enough, Wes smacked your ass as payback.

"...i could say the same about you..."

Wes flopped onto the bed, holding up the thick, soft comforters to indicate that he wanted you to cuddle with. Of course, you happily obliged and crawled into the blanket-cave he created. You hummed and nuzzled into Wes's chest and wrapped your arms and legs around him like a koala, making sure to get as close to him as possible.

"...mmm i love you..." You murmured placing a sweet kiss on Wes's cleavage.

Wes hummed and rolled on top of you, spreading sweet kisses all over your cheeks and forehead. He nuzzled your nose and kissed your lips.

"...i love you too baby..."

Wes rolled back off and held you tight, playing with your hair and massaging your scalp.

"...i'm sorry about your day..."

You feathered a butterfly kiss on his sternum.

"...it's all good, sweet cheeks..."

Wes laughed and bit your arm, making you laugh and blush at the same time. Usually, Wes stripping in front of you and biting you with those sharp canines of his would turn you on, but you were too sleepy and in a wholesome mood, so you just giggled.

"G....Goodnight...." Wes yawned, kissing the top of your head.

"...g'night weh..." You purred, holding him tighter before you both fell asleep.

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3dollarbillyalls · 1 year ago

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Wes: enjoying art

Me: enjoying Wes enjoying art

#limp bizkit #wes borland #imagine him giving you a guide through some museum

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nu-metal-confessions · 2 years ago

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just once, i'd love for fred, sam, john, and dj lethal to allow wes to paint them + dress them all in a signature borland stage looks for a show. i think it would be really fun and entertaining to see.

#oh anon this would be fucking iconic #AW I'm totally imagining what they'd each look like #I want John to have one of those neon green visor wigs and green cat eyes #Lethal is like a tree man with fake branches going in every direction with yellow eyes #Sam brings back the red eye contacts and does his whole head and shoulders in a red and white acrylic dip #Fred just comes out dressed as a catgirl maid because I said so #and Wes paints his entire body blue with yellow and white handprints with totally white eyes #john otto #dj lethal #sam rivers #fred durst #wes borland #limp bizkit #nu metal #nu metal confessions

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weswhoreland · 1 year ago

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into my arms

wes borland x gn!reader

mature 1684 words read on ao3 based on this ask

You bonded over music.

That’s what had first drawn you to him, all those months ago. When you first moved into the apartment complex, you hadn’t known anyone. You weren’t a loner necessarily, but meeting people was a lot easier said than done. For weeks you kept to yourself. You went to work and came home, a familiar routine. A safe routine. You were friendly with your neighbors, but it never grew past that.

Then, you met Wes.

Your local record shop was a short walk from the complex. Once you discovered it, you couldn’t get enough. After work you’d often find yourself there, browsing through albums and window shopping. You were busying yourself doing exactly that, adding another CD to your stack when you heard a voice from behind you.

“Is that Murder Ballads?”

It startled you a little. Casual conversation wasn’t uncommon at the shop, but never directed at you. When you turned, you were face-to-face with a stranger. Tall, brown-eyed… and admittedly cute.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I love Nick Cave.”

As it turned out, Wes did too. A lot. That wasn’t where the similarities in your music tastes ended, either. The two of you had started talking, and by the time you finally checked out with the cashier, an hour had passed.

After that, you and Wes were inseparable. As it turned out, he lived in your apartment complex, too. A different building, sure, but close enough that the two of you found yourselves spending a lot of time together. He was easy to talk to. And fun. Slowly, you learned more about him. Wes plays guitar, and he’s good at it too. He’s from Virginia. He has a brother, his dad’s a pastor… and he’s in a band.

A really good band.

That’s been your life for months. Slowly but surely, Wes has nudged his way into your routine. If you’re not alone with Wes, you’re with his bandmates. And if not with them… well, you’re wishing you were. Wes -- all of them, really -- have become such integral parts of your life. When you first met him in the record store, you wouldn't have imagined he'd become this important to you.

Not that you've told him that.

Tonight is like any other night. You and Wes are hanging out, passing the time away. The two of you have been listening to music, talking, watching movies… anything you can think of. It’s been a good night. Admittedly, you think, the two of you are just trying to soak up as much time together as you can. Because in a few days, Wes will be leaving on tour.

It won’t be forever, you keep reminding yourself. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s leaving. It’s a good thing. This is his dream, and you want that for him. You want that for him more than anything. But… well. Over the last few months, he’s become one of your closest friends. And it might be selfish, but you don’t want him to leave. Once Wes and the guys leave, your life will go back to the way it was before. And, admittedly, you like seeing Wes every day. You like spending time with him, getting to know him, hearing him laugh. The thought of not seeing him for months…

Needless to say, you’re distracting yourself. Or trying to, at least. Anything to keep your mind off the fact that in a few days, things will be changing. Unfortunately, you’re learning that’s much easier said than done. The goal was to make dinner. Something the two of you could enjoy together… and admittedly, something that would help take your mind off things. That was the plan, until you realize what you need is higher than you can reach.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. It had to be something Wes put away. He’s always trying to be helpful, but sometimes he doesn’t remember that you’re not as tall as he is. You stand there in the kitchen, cabinet wide open as you stare up at it in annoyance. You don’t want to ask for help. Maybe it’s a pride thing, or maybe it’s just on principle. But…

“I’ve got it.”

You didn’t hear Wes come into the kitchen. Still, in an instant you feel him as he comes up behind you, stretching just enough to pluck the box from the top shelf. There’s the briefest moment where you can feel him brush against you. It shouldn’t send a chill down your spine, but it does. It also shouldn’t make your heart race.

You hear a soft thud as Wes gently sets the box he was reaching for on the counter. You turn to look at him. You should say something – thank him, maybe – but you can’t quite get the words out. Apparently, neither can Wes. The two of you stare at each other wordlessly, like two deer caught in the headlights. You need to say something, you desperately remind yourself. You need to–

Before your mind can fully process what’s happening, he kisses you.

His lips are soft, softer than you would expect. It's the first thing you realize once your mind returns to you, once your thoughts stop swirling incoherently. His lips are soft, his hands feel nice on your hips, and he's good at this. Very good. You barely have time to weigh your options before your mind's made up. You kiss him back, letting your own hands wander. You press his shirt up just enough to feel his soft skin beneath your fingertips, to feel his warmth against you. What are you doing? The question runs through your mind, but you can't bring yourself to care. Wes is your best friend, and you want to kiss him. And apparently, he wanted to kiss you, too.

When he finally pulls back, there’s a brief moment where the silence stretches between the two of you. It isn’t awkward – not really. You’re fairly certain your brain isn’t functioning well enough right now for it to be awkward. Instead, you’re just staring at him. You’re staring at him… and Wes is staring back.

Fuck, he kissed you. Your best friend kissed you… and you liked it.

A lot.

Finally, Wes lets out a little laugh. It’s hesitant, unsure. So unlike the man you’ve grown to know. Maybe he’s thinking the exact same thing you are right now.

“... Sorry.”

Wait. He’s apologizing? For what, kissing you? Before you can stop yourself, you’re laughing.

“Sorry?” You repeat.

Wes looks embarrassed. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to laugh, but you couldn’t help yourself. “Yeah,” he agrees. “... I don’t know. I’ve just been thinking about it for a while.”

... He's been thinking about it for a while?

“What?" You ask. "About kissing me?”

“Yeah.”

Well. That’s news to you. Sure, your feelings for Wes have festered for a while, no matter how hard you’d tried to stop them. But the fact that he feels the same way? It throws you for a loop, almost makes your head spin. Surely he's lying. He has to be. But--

Apparently, you’ve stayed silent for too long. Suddenly, Wes is scrambling to clarify himself.

“I’m not asking you to feel the same way,” Wes continues. “And if that made shit weird, I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know. I keep thinking about it. And – I don’t want to leave.”

He doesn’t want to leave. … Well. Isn’t that something? Because admittedly, you don't want him to leave either.

“Wes,” you start. “Stop. I do. Feel the same way, I mean.”

“... You do?”

“Yeah,” you agree. “I do. And… I don’t want you to go, either.”

It feels like a blasphemous confession, but it’s true. Even so, Wes almost looks relieved. Relieved that you feel the same way, that you also have hesitations about the tour. You could ask him to stay, you realize. You could ask him to forget all of that, to stay here, to build a life with you. But…

“I don’t want you to go,” you continue. “But you need to.”

“(Y/N)--”

“No,” you stop him. “I’m serious. You’re not missing out on this just for me.”

Wes looks like he wants to say something — to protest — but he doesn’t. Good, you think. He knows you. You don’t give up easily, especially when you’re right.

Finally, Wes lets out a breath.

“It won’t be forever,” he points out. “I’ll be back. And… you can visit?”

“Oh yeah?” You grin.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

Visit. That sounds…

Nice. It sounds really nice. You can picture it now, watching Wes and the guys play from the side stage. Your mind wanders a little, letting yourself picture Wes as he comes off stage, happy and smiling and exhilarated as he kisses you again--

Jesus, okay. You need to focus.

“I’d like that,” you say finally. “A lot.”

This feels… stupid. So stupid. Wes is your best friend, but having a friend who’s a rockstar and a boyfriend who’s a rockstar are completely different things. Are you ready for this? To commit yourself fully to a man who will spend so long away from home? You have no doubt in your mind that Limp Bizkit will make it big. They’ll make it big… and none of this will be easy. There will be times when it's hard, when both of you wonder if you made the right choice. You'll fight, you'll argue, maybe you'll say things you regret. But...

But, maybe none of that matters right now. Because you want this. It hits you suddenly that you want this with Wes. To be with him, no matter the obstacles. And if that means being apart for a few months... it's worth it. It's worth it, just to know that you'll be together again eventually.

Without another word, you pull Wes in for another kiss. You wish you could this forever, you realize. To kiss him forever, to hold him forever. And... there's something else you want. Something that, unfortunately, you'll have to drag him to the bedroom for.

You think dinner can wait.

#limp bizkit fanfiction #wes borland x reader #limp bizkit #mine #i hope you enjoy it anon!!#this is the longest thing i've written for wes yet lmao #i had a good time though

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korn-dogz · 2 years ago

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Limp bizkit Imagines (x Reader)

Basically scenarios of the limp bizkit members

Incudes:

Fred durst

John Otto

Dj lethal

Sam rivers

Wes Borland

And yes these are all friends to lovers cuz I love it

Fred durst

Imagine you having to share a hotel room with Fred on tour

-you were hired as limp bizkits manger a couple years back, you got the job because Sam knew you and he thought you’d be a great manger

-you got to meet such wonderful people, one of them being Fred, right off the bat he was flirty, Sam told you that that’s just how he always is, so you didn’t think to much of it

-a couple years have gone by and Fred is still the same towards you, but one day things will all change when you and Fred had to share a hotel room

-they were on tour in the US and they stopped at a hotel to rest for a day or two, it wasn’t your decision to share a hotel room with fred but you’d do it anyway

-“alright well our hotel room is 106” you say and look down at the card the front desk gave you “let’s go then” fred smiles and goes to the room. Once you guys are there you open the door with the card, fred walks in and places his stuff on the floor “uh, Y/N, there’s um, only one bed”

-you stop placing your stuff down at his words “what? Are you for real?” You walk over and see that Fred wasn’t lying, there was in fact only one bed “I can sleep on the floor Y/N” you appreciated his jester but you weren’t gonna let that happen “no no, it’s ok we’ll just share the bed, don’t worry” you were nervous about sharing a bed but you told yourself it was fine

-it was around night time and you and Fred were on the bed eating Pringles and watching tv, you held the small can in your hands for you and Fred to share “honestly I still think the original is better” Fred said looking over at you “Nuh uh, sour cream and onion is the best flavour” you debated, as if you guys weren’t close enough you noticed that fred started getting closer, you tried to not pay attention to what he was doing but it was driving you crazy

-finally you felt Fred’s head on your shoulder and his arm locking up with his “I’m getting sleepy Y/N…” he says in kinda a childish tone. He reaches his arm out to turn off the tv, he was still laying on your side “do you want to go to bed then?” You ask him and smirk a bit “mhmm..” he speaks quietly but he gently pushes you down with him to rest. His head was on your chest and his hands are wrapped around your waist, he buried his head closer to your neck “good night Y/N…. I love you” the last part he said so quietly that you almost couldn’t hear him

-you smiled at him and whispered into his ear “I love you too fred, good night” you kissed the top of his head and wrapped an arm around him

John Otto

Imagine helping John because he got hurt (I got this from a video were john cut his head playing the drums)

-you’d been johns friend for a long time now, two years ago john told you that he was in this band called limp bizkit, you gave them a listen and you really liked them, you always admire John for being such a beast on the drums

-one day he invited you to watch them practice, you were very excited to see him in action, you came to his practice and watched them, they started playing a song that was called counterfeit, it started off good until john hit his head, you saw what happened and was worried about John

-“hey! Hey! Get someone in here quick john cut his head” Fred said, John walked off and you ran over to him to see if he was alright, he was looking at himself in the mirror,”John! Are you alright?” John turns his head to see you “oh yeah I’m alright” you have a worried look on your face

-he turns his full body towards you as you cup his face with both hands gently, you slightly turned his head so you could see the cut better “it doesn’t look that bad.. I’m just gonna put some rubbing alcohol and a bandaid” john smiles at you, you always loved his dumb smile “it’s nothing Y/N” John chuckles a little as he looks into your eyes, ”maybe, but I don’t want you getting hurt again”

-you let go of his face to find some rubbing alcohol and bandaids. Little to your knowledge, John has had a big crush on you since day 1, he didn’t know how to tell you because he’s a always been a bit shy around you, but he thought now was the perfect time “ha! I found them!” You smirk as you grab bandaids and rubbing alcohol

-you turn back to John as you grab a cotton ball and lightly dip it in the alcohol “this is gonna sting a bit John…” he nods his head as you apply the cotton ball on him, he lets out a hiss as his eyes shut “alright there we go!” You smile at him, his eyes soften at your smile as you look down to get the bandaid

-you peal off the white paper as you slowly apply the bandaid on John “all better now!” You both smile at each other “thank you Y/N you’re truly amazing” his cheeks turn a slight shade of pink as you giggle “ of course john” you lean in to kiss the area of his bandaid, mwwwwwah! John looks at you blushing hard,

-john returns the favour and kisses you on the lips, you pull away quickly “ok john get back out there sweetie” he laughs at the nickname as he walks off. He never stopped thinking about that even when he was playing the drums

Dj lethal

Imagine dj lethal asking you to dance

-you and lee were friends for a couple years now, he tried to show you how to use a sp12 but ultimately, you kinda sucked, but lee never cared he liked being around you

-you hung out with his band quite a few times, and got along with them, Wes always joked about you and lee but you brushed it off as Wes being Wes, but lee always seemed flustered when Wes made those jokes, it made you wonder if he actually likes you

-one day you were hanging out with the band and Fred suggested that all of us go to a bar, you agreed and so did the others

-you 6 headed to the bar, it started off with a drink or two but now, they’ve had more then 7 drinks, lee and the others were tipsy and slurring their words “hey guys I think you should slow down on the drinking haha…” you had 2 drinks yourself but you were getting a bit concerned at this point,

-“pshhh I-im Fine” Fred said and went back to drinking, you looked over at lee who was sitting beside you and staring at you, but not in a creepy way, in a cute way, you smiled at him “hey lee, you ok?” Lee looked at you and smiled “yeah, n-now that you’re h-here" you giggled and looked away

-you heard a sound coming from the speakers in the bar “ok everyone, tonight is our special night were we open up the dance floor for couples who want to slow dance” you never heard of this but you shrugged it off, lee looks at you “hey Y/N…” he speaks quietly but you heard him “yeah?” You turn you head to face him “wanna dance?” We gives you his hand and smiles

-you looked at his hand and back at him “I’d thought you’d never ask” you take his hand and smile, he leads you to the dance floor and the song “and I love her” by the Beatles starts playing. He holds you close to him and puts both his hands on your hips, you rest your hands on his shoulders as the song continues playing “you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, you know that right? I really like you Y/N” lee leans in to kiss you, your lips meet and your hands move to cup his face

-“I like you too lee” you smile and pull him in for another kiss. The song ends and you two head back to the stop were the others were hanging out "so you finally told her?” Wes laughs “yeah..” lee looks down flustered you giggle at this, but at least he’s yours now

Sam rivers

Imagine Sam coming up to you while everyone is asleep

-you’re limp bizkit manger, it’s not easy dealing with them but when they did a colab with Korn you were grateful that you were their manger and not Korns

-limp bizkit Is going on their first European tour, and you booked a plane that had 2 parts to it, you and Sam were really close, you two had known each other since you were baby’s, it’s kinda why you got this job

-you were so excited to visit Europe for the first time. You helped them pack their bags and get their equipment, once you all were on the plane it was time to head off to Europe which would take 8 hours, it was a long flight but you didn’t really care, you made sure everyone was comfortable and fine before you sat down

-you decided to sit next to Sam, since he’s a pretty claim person so you’d like to sit with him “hey Sam, is anyone sitting here?” You pointed to the seat next to him “not at all, go ahead” he smiled as you sat down next to him “so, how long is this going to be again?” Sam asked you “8 hours, they’ll serve lunch and dinner which is what I payed for” you answered “geez that’s a long time, but thanks for getting us lunch and dinner” you smiled at him “anything for you” you looked down and started to finish some paper work

-for the next 5 hours Sam kept on thinking about what you said “anything for you" his heart fluttered at your words. They served lunch and dinner, now it was night time

-it was about 11:30pm and you noticed that everyone was asleep and you were the only one awake, you still had paperwork to do so you left to go to the other part of the plane, around 11:50pm you heard footsteps coming towards you, you looked back and saw that it was Sam “Y/N? What are you doing up?” You chuckled “I could ask you the same question” you said in a quiet voice as to not wake up the others. He smiled and sat next to you “you finishing some paperwork? Need help?” Sam looked at you innocently “no, but thank you for asking, that’s the first time anyone has asked me that actually” and smiled and looked down to continue writing

-Sam grinned at you and rested his head on your shoulder, you froze not knowing what to do “thanks for always doing this for us Y/N, I know me and the guys never say it but we really appreciate everything you do for us” you started to blush at what he said “well it’s my job no?” You laughed and turned around to hug him “I really like you Sam, I mean like, im so happy I got this job you guys are my best friends and you’re always so funny, I couldn’t have asked for a better job" you buried your head into his neck.

-you pulled away to see his face, it was a mix of being flustered and happy, there was a moment of silence before he leaned in to kiss you, you kissed him back as fast as you could and wrapped your arms around his neck “I like you too baby” you blushed hard at the nickname as he kissed your neck, this was pure bliss for you

Wes Borland

Imagine helping Wes put on his black makeup

-you and Wes had been friends for 10 years now, you always listened to him and liked his drawing he made of you, you always admired him for his amazing guitar skills and his creativity, he went on to join a band called limp bizkit, you were the first person he showed the demo to, you really liked the sound of them, you knew that they were gonna be big

-you were right, they became a smash hit and everyone loved them, Wes wore silly costumes on stage that you loved, you always helped him out,

-one day he came up with a new costume and he needed your help, he described it to you, you’d like the idea so you agreed to help him out “ok, can you put this black paint on my back? Oh and make sure to get the back of my legs too" you laughed “sure” he handed you black paint and you started to put it on his back,

-your mind started wondering off to a different place when you rubbed your hands along his back, he had a nice figure, toned abs but not in a gross way, it was nice. You started gently massaging the black paint into his back when you heard him groan quietly, almost so quiet you couldn’t hear him, but you did and you smirk at the reaction you got out of him

-you began to massage him a bit harder then before “ok wes I’m done your back, I’m moving on to your legs now” he quickly responded with an “ok” as you crouched down to paint his legs black. You made sure to give him a good massage on his calfs to make him feel better when he’s on stage “I’m done!” You stood up and backed away a little to admire your work “thanks Y/N I appreciate the help” he turns around to face you

-it wasn’t much of a shock but his whole face and his chest was covered in black paint “you look great wes! The crowd is gonna love you" he blushes at you, although you can’t see it he makes it obvious “thanks” he says and looks down

-you thought this was the perfect time to make a move; you put your finger under his chin to lift his head up, he looked at you with a bit of surprise in his eyes, then you kiss him on his black painted lips “good luck out there, I bet you’re gonna do great wes” you giggled as you wiped the black paint off your lips and left him standing there in shock “thank you Y/N! I love you….” The last part was quiet but you heard him

#limp bizkit #fred durst x reader #Fred durst #wes borland #sam rivers #dj lethal #John Otto #limp bizkit x Reader #Wes Borland x Reader #sam rivers x Reader #dj lethal x Reader #John Otto x reader #sorry for the long wait guys #I hope you guys like this fanfic and thank you guys so much for all the support I’ve been getting it means a lot to me

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so-much-for-stardust6 · 1 month ago

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MTV Music Awards- Jackass Cast

summary: you, steve-o, johnny and bam are presenting at the 2002 mtv music awards. right before going on stage they suggest you do a stunt.

lowercase intended

requested oc!

warnings: intended injury & not proof read

a/n: requested by @mizfitneeds !! tysm for requesting again, hope u like it :p

“i’m sorry i can’t go, baby.” wes frowns.

“don’t worry about it, bam is gonna be there to protect me.” i ruffle his hair.

today is the 2002 mtv awards and i was set to present with three of the jackass cast. i was good friends with them, my cousin being ryan dunn. wes was gonna go as my plus one but he ended up falling sick, staying home instead.

“okay, just be careful..”

“i will. i gotta go though, baby. love you.” i kiss his lips.

“love you, have fun!”

and with that i was out the door. the traffic there was crazy, cars honking everywhere. i was wearing jeans, converse and white crop top with a black leather jacket over. my makeup was subtle, not having the energy to go all out. i was informed that i’d have to walk the red carpet to enter the event. i honestly hated the flashing lights of the paparazzi camera’s, it’s annoying. my driver was finally able to park, right outside was the carpet. i take a deep breath before opening the door, people’s cheers and cameras flashing immediately took over my senses. i walked the carpet, smiling and waving at everyone. i stopped in the middle of the carpet, posing for the paparazzi. they all screamed at me, none of their words catching my ears. except one.

“y/n! where’s wes?!”

“he’s sick! poor guy has to stay home!” i frown.

“hope he gets better!”

“thank you!!”

i give the cameras an air kiss before walking off. i enter where everyone is, many celebrities chatting up storms with drinks in their hands. my eyes look for the jackass guys, eventually seeing them by the bar. i smile and immediately make my over to them, steve-o the first one to notice me.

“y/n!!” he exclaims.

he was wearing an unbuttoned yellow and black plaid shirt (with nothing underneath of course) and a basic pair of blue jeans. he brings me into a tight hug, laughing his recognizable laugh.

“make room for us, steve-o!” johnny joked, laughing.

i hugged the tall man, noticing his new mustache. he wore blue jeans, a white t-shirt with a picture of a woman on it, topped off his a jackass hat and sunglasses. once johnny pulled away bam was quick to shove him out the way.

“there’s my twin!”

“hey bam! how’s april and phil?” i hug him.

“oh you know, just being them.” he laughs.

“oh yeah, still being tormented by you and ryan?”

“you know it.” bam smiles.

“i’m so glad you’re here, i haven’t seen you in forever.” steve-o said.

“yeah i know, i’ve been busy touring and making music.”

“oh yeah, you toured with korn! that rocks!” bam exclaims.

“how’s that boyfriend of yours? where’s he at?” johnny asks.

“wes? he’s at home sick, he was gonna come but you know.” i shrug.

“does that mean i can make my move?” steve-o jokes.

“and have ryan beat your ass? sure!” i laugh.

we started up conversation about whatever as we wait for our cue to head to our seats. once we did, we shoved our way past people. i accidentally elbowed avril lavigne, apologizing profoundly. she told me not to worry about it, also complimenting my band. i lowkey fangirled inside.

~fast forward to where they get ready to present~

we stood backstage, waiting to be called onto stage to present.

“you got the paper?” johnny asks steve-o.

“yup. you got the stapler?”

“stapler?” i question.

“yeah, i got the great idea of stapling the paper with the winner on it and reading it from my stomach.”

i laugh at their stupidity.

“why don’t you do it, y/n?” bam suggests.

“what?”

“yeah, it’ll be cool if you did it!”

i thought about it, agreeing with him.

“okay.” i nod.

“she did not need much convincing. do you wanna join the crew?” johnny laughs.

“ask me again after this.” i nudge him.

“okay you guys, you’re going on in a second after the announcement is done.” someone backstage tells us.

“ladies and gentlemen, do not try this at home. welcome the stars of jackass the movie: johnny knoxville, bam margera, and the lovely and talented mr. steve-o! and with them is y/b/n’s very own y/n y/l/n!”

we walked out onto the stage, waving at the cheering crowd as the jackass theme song played. steve-o held the extra mic as johnny held the stapler and paper.

bam shouted something into the mic, causing johnny to laugh.

“when i found out that i was gonna be presenting tonight i came up with the most amazing stunt ever. and i’m ready to do it, i told em’ but they told me i’m not allowed to pull my wiener out.” steve-o opened up.

i laughed as the crowd stayed a bit silent, only a couple people making noise.

“don’t worry!” he said before shoving the mic into his mouth.

i watched as bam slapped his head, forcing the mic deeper into his mouth. the crowd gasped as steve-o fell the ground, bam and johnny slightly laughing. i covered my mouth at the idiot.

“never mind that, get a load of knoxville’s mustache! i mean it looks like a three sided dick duster, i mean come on it’s terrible!” bam spoke into the mic on the pedestal, making fun of johnny’s mustache.

“but hey, the fellas seem to like it!” i chirp in.

“what are we presenting anyway?” bam asks.

“best rap video.” johnny says, shoving the paper to bam.

“best rap video, sweet! i got um-i figured that there’s pretty much no one that that awards gonna go to that can’t hook me up with some legal advice right now.” steve-o rambles into the mic.

“how’re you feeling right now, y/n? been awful quiet here.” johnny nudges me.

“feeling like a good drink right now, johnny. gotta amp myself up you know, these nominees are really good!”

“who are you rooting for?”

“don’t put me on the spot, johnny. you know i’m everyone’s favorite cheerleader.” i pretend to shake pom pom’s in the air as i wink, the crowd cheering.

“i bet you’re wes’ favorite cowgirl.” bam slyly says.

i blush at his words, looking away from the crowd.

“right! here are the nominees for best rap video!” johnny says.

the screen behind us plays a video of all the nominees.

“you still gonna do it?” johnny whispers into my ear.

i nod and smile brightly, my adrenaline pumping. the video ends and the attention is back on us.

“all right let’s do this!” johnny pulls out the stapler and turns to me.

i shove back my jacket to make more room as johnny places the paper on my stomach, wasting no time to press the stapler on. i groan as the first one pierces my skin, people in the crowd cheering. bam and steve-o laugh as johnny staples another time.

“got her again, just cause.” bam laughs.

“and the winner is…” johnny leans into the mic.

i thought they’d just open the paper up and read but bam instead rips it off of me. i groan again in pain and the staples rip out my skin, some blood already pooling at the wounds.

“eminemmmmm!!!” bam exclaims.

everyone cheers, including me, as eminem walks up to the stage while his song ‘without me’ plays. johnny hands him the award before eminem spoke into the mic.

“you just stapled yourself, man?” he asks me.

i laugh and nod at his question.

“this chick is really bleeding.” he points to my stomach.

he then shakes our hands, words of congratulations leaving our mouth. he stood behind him as he says his speech, thanking people for the awards. once he was done, we all walked off stage and into the back.

“man, you’re one crazy chick for doing that but props to you.” he patted my shoulder.

“guess it’s in my blood, dunn is my cousin.”

“no shit, i knew you reminded me of someone.”

he laughs.

someone behind him called his name, causing him to say his goodbyes before leaving.

“you are a fucking natural!” bam laughs, jumping up and down around me.

“dude, you might have to replace ryan.” steve-o jokes.

“maybe the views will go up!” i say, making everyone laugh.

“let’s his the bar, my stomach is aching and i desperately need a drink.” i chuckle as we walk off.

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downtherabbitholewithlucy · 8 months ago

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I can't be the only one who thinks this...

#I mean right?!?#anyone else do this with other songs? like you hear a specific song that always reminds you of something else whenever you listen to it?#y'all couldn't even imagine what sound effect Korn's “Worst is on its way” reminds me of whenever I hear it (hint: it's also Nick based)#Limp Bizkit #nu metal #Fred Durst #Wes Borland #Sam Rivers #John Otto #DJ Lethal #music video: My Generation #lucy the rabbit's video edits #down the rabbit hole

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claudy-writes-stuff · 1 year ago

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having a school girl crush type crush on wes :3 you absolutely hate it on the outside but secretly adore it within :-) meanwhile wes acts as if he doesn’t know/isn’t aware… but lets say he may or may not have a secret shrine somewhere hidden in one of his closets at his house that contains drawings of you and lists of your favorite things you’ve mentioned previously to him :)

Wes Borland x Shy? Reader

Lightly sitting alone in the cafe waiting for Wes after he had agreed to meet up with you in here. Your fork lightly stabbing into the cheesecake, it was mostly quiet but upon looking a tiny ring was heard from the bell on the door. Wes stepped in and his face lit up as he saw, You lightly waved with two hands over to him, he walked over and put his phone on the table and hugged you into a snug embrace lifting you off your feet “Hey Y/N”

Wes lightly exclaimed. Spinning you around sweetly, He couldn’t resist to do that as he noticed your tense shy but happy expression, giggling as your eyes looked into his, sparkling with excitement “Hi, glad you made it here I thought you weren’t gonna come” you chuckled nervously. As you both sat down, he took a seat next to you, something (F/C) Colored (favorite color) flashed, You looked up at him. Gently stuffing some chew sake into your mouth as he smiled, teeth immaculate “So how have you been lately? You know I really missed you since the concert last time” He admitted sweetly. Eyes filled with interest and childlike curiosity as he also took a bite of cheesecake, a cup of (whatever really.) next to him, “It’s not much, I was just doing some work earlier. Why?” You blinked a bit, lips parting in thought, setting the fork down. “Nothing but I wanted to give you a gift after last time, sorry again” he mumbled the last part in embarrassment. Last week you had given Wes a charm, homemade by you but he had broke it which made you upset, but he was going to make up for it. you wished he’d just notice your feelings for him already. The rosy cheeks subtle. He pulled out the thing in his pocket. Revealing it being a small plushie. It was a cute dinosaur that was (Your favorite color), Your eyes widened, heart aching as you saw your name stitched onto it. “Aww…”

You mumbled, sweetly taking it into your hands. Looking up at him with an innocent twinkle in your eyes, cheeks getting redder. He reached over and wiped some cheesecake off your cheeks and the corner of your lips as he spoke “Thought I’d make up for last week.” His eyes looked into yours. Genuine sincerity in his eyes as he scooted closer to you. He knew today at some point he was gonna have to reciprocate your feelings back to him. Because even though he pretended to be oblivious. He knew damn well you liked him, Like a schoolgirl

He tensed when your arms wrapped around him, he was surprised at you showing affection. You seemed shy and reserved most of the time. So he was surprised. But he rested his chin ontop of your head. Leaning back into his chair, making you lay on his lap. Legs by his sides. Dangling off the chair as your head buried in his shoulder. He lightly moved your bangs away from your eyes. Before wrapping tighter around you. Pressing his lips to your cheek, near the corner of your lip. Hearing a tiny whimper “You didn’t have to..M’sorry I made you pay for it” When seeing you hug him he knew it was a sign you were comfortable with him now. He smiled widely, holding you to him as you clinged like your life depended on him

He lifted your chin, getting closer to your face. Feeling his warm breath fanning against you. Kissing you wihtout warning but you gave in. Like a warm blanket on a cold day. His eyes opened. Seeing yours droopy and cute. So round, So sweet. With a light twinkle to them. His fingers twirled in your hair. Pulling you gently closer. Before he pulled away. A string of saliva connecting your lips to his. Feeling your lips quiver against his

“I love you Y/N” He whispered gently. Hugging you tighter than before.

(An alternate ending for Anon as requested : reader finds out wes has a shrine of them?)

You stepped foot into Wes’ house as you looked around. “You can leave your shoes by the door, Make yourself at home” He urged gently as he took off his own shoes before waiting for you to come along , Your shoes next to his looked like a child. Lightly following behind him like a fascinated kid in a candy store. His house was neat “You have a nice place” mumbling sweetly. Your lips parted and your head tilted in curious. Eyes sparkling in interest as you gently touched a glass bear trinket. You lightly took his arm. Cussing him to stop and look down at you gently. “Hey Wes?” You asked softly. A bit shy as you chewed your lip lightly. “Can we see your room?” You asked

No, No, No, No, No!, Wes thought, What if you found out about the shrine? Would you lose feelings? Reject him? Call him a creep? His thoughts ran wild in his head as he lightly furrowed his brows. Did you really wanna see his room this bad? He knew your feelings for him. He didn’t know how to reciprocate it was all. The pictures of you, Via drawings. Sketches of you all differently, catching all details of your face. Onetime you were a princess. Then a cute little bunny. All sorts of things. Some of the pictures Polaroid. One of them was you sitting in the playground with Wes. He was staring off at the field while you were playing in the sandbox. A little kid. In those suspender shorts and a Winnie the Pooh shirt. With a sweet happy expression. Grass on your little knees reminded him of the memories. He liked you a lot since day 1. When you both met at kindergarten. Wes’s mother knew your mother. So you hung out a lot. Getting separated in high school. But now reunited together again after so long it was only natural he’d miss you. He still remembered you. The innocent girl all those years ago. By his side.

He still remembered the toy bunny you gave him years ago. That toy..

“Hey Wes! I’m gonna go home, next time I come here I’ll tell mommy if I can play with you again!” Your eyes twinkled, Those youthful eyes, Wes looked back at you. His face flushed as he held the (F/C) Bunny in his arms. “Can…C-can you come back tomorrow Y/N?” He asked , stepping closer to you. Letting the bunny gently land on the swing as he hugged you. Tiny body against each other “I’ll see you at school tomorrow!” You giggled. Asking if he could keep bunny safe.

All those years ago. When you were in kindergarten. He always kept it safe. Not just the bunny, but all your other favorite animals. He had plushies of them in this big shrine. Pictures of you and him throughout the years. Toys. All sorts of things. But it was too late. He zoned out so much he didn’t realize you were gone. He was frantic as he saw you holding the bunny. Tears in your eyes, Fuck..We’re you going to reject him? Did you think he was a creep?

“Wes..” You lightly called out. Holding the bunny in your arms. Crying, did he really finally reciprocate his feelings? He even kept the bunny safe? All those years made your heart at ease realizing he loved you back. He wiped away your tears and wrapped his arms around you from behind. His nose nuzzling into your cheek. Comforting you and shushing you gently. His other hand running your arm up and down “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I can’t help it. Y/N. I love you” He gently reassured. Hugging you very tightly. The bunny dropped by your feet. You cried harder into his shirt. He liked you up and sat you on the table. Your legs dangling a bit. His eyes filled with sweet affection.

It was the day. You both finally dated each other. Who knew in the future if you’d both have kids. But it was very likely…

#wes borland x reader #wes borland #limp bizkit.#limp bizkit x reader #limp bizkit imagine #limp bizkit

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catullus0525 · 7 months ago

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Chapter 1: Dim And Remote The Joys Of Saints I See (1869-1895) -- Part II

The trouble was not of conscience alone. Over the next years of his life, Robbie came to realise the hefty price he shall pay for being unapologetically homosexual in an intensely homophobic society.

By the accounts of those who knew him, Robbie was a short, delicate, and somewhat feminine-looking boy in his youth. Arthur Humphreys, a London bookseller who had known Robbie since the 1880s, remembered him as a ‘pathetically pale’, ’very delicate looking’ youth who sported flowery ‘Liberty’ ties and had ‘a tendency to be aesthetic in his dress’. Alfred Douglas, who had known him since the early 1890s, described him as an ‘attractive’ but ‘rather pathetic-looking little creature’ resembling ‘a kitten’. Rupert Croft-Cooke, who had probably heard much about Ross from Douglas, wrote that ‘Robert Baldwin Ross was an amusing little queen’ and ‘an invert’, who liked ‘older men of intelligence and social position’ and ‘looked for soldiers to play male to him’. And Neil McKenna went as far as saying that ‘[t]his slender, attractive and impulsive boy was a beacon for men who were attracted to younger men or boys and who often wanted to anally penetrate them.’. We may thus reasonably presume that Robbie’s refusal to adhere to the masculine norms of the day made him easy target for bullying, which was compounded by the fact that he never deliberately concealed his sexuality. Indeed, Richard Ellmann briefly mentioned that even before he got into university, Robbie had been ‘beaten for reading Wilde’s poems’, which were already considered effeminate if not homosexual.

In 1888, Robbie got into King’s College, University of Cambridge to study History. He was unabashedly progressive in a College known to be ardently conservative in his time, and he was not afraid of voicing controversial opinions. For instance, in support of King’s recent changes in admissions procedure to admit non-Etonians, Robbie wrote:

…however much the lovers of Eton, and those whose conservative prejudices are something more than mere sentiment, may regret the admission of non-Etonians into the place, we believe it was the salvation of the college, for in these advanced days an exclusively Etonian college is impossible for Cambridge. The change naturally brought evil with good, and among those who battered at the doors for admission under the new regulations, there came some of the most undesirable Undergraduates that could well be imagined. Not only long-haired, but the short-haired and the no-haired came — the purely social and the socially pure.

Already estranged from most of his Eton-educated peers by the fact that he had not attended a public school, Robbie’s opinionated nature, and most likely also his visibly queer outlook, infuriated the public school boys at King’s, who were determined to teach him a lesson by violence. Six months after he got into Cambridge, in one freezing evening, Robbie was dragged from the dining hall all the way to the college lawn, manhandled by six students, and ducked into the icy cold college fountain.. This, as Maureen Borland pointed out, could ‘well have resulted in the victim dying of pneumonia’ in Victorian times. The College was entirely unsympathetic towards Robbie: the six assailants were granted the honour to dine with a Tutor right after they left Robbie brutalised and shivering on the college lawn; and adding insult to injury, three days after the incident, the College decided that both the assailants and the assaulted had been guilty of breaking College rules, so no further action was to be taken.

The bullying and the miscarriage of justice left Robbie severely traumatised. According to Oscar Browning, then the Fellow for History at King’s, Robbie suffered ‘a violent brain attack’ as the result of ‘outrage preying on his mind’. This was likely an euphemistic under-statement given the Victorian attitude towards mental illness. By some accounts, Robbie was suicidal after the incident and had to be brought home from university. Though he returned to Cambridge two months later and managed to wrangle a reluctant apology out of his assailants through persistent effort, he never fully recovered from the traumatising incident and had recurrent episodes of measles, pneumonia, and mental breakdowns afterwards. Moreover, perhaps realising that he would forever remain an outcast in an institutionally homophobic college, eventually Robbie decided to drop out of Cambridge. The decision could hardly have been an easy one, for, prior to the incident, Robbie had enjoyed Cambridge a great deal.

After dropping out of Cambridge, Robbie made the monumental decision to come out to his family. It was an unbelievably courageous act in 1889, only four years after the notorious ‘Labouchere Amendment’ made all homosexual acts punishable by up to two years of imprisonment and hard labour, on top of the already draconian (though unenforceable) Offences against the Person Act 1861 which punished sodomy by life imprisonment. Few in his time were as brave. As Neil McKenna wrote, Robbie was one of the extremely few late-Victorian men who were open with their families about their sexuality since a young age and made no ‘prolonged attempts to divert his passions towards women’ Indeed, as we shall see later on, Robbie never considered marrying to conceal his homosexuality and probably tried to dissuade his homosexual friends from doing so. However, McKenna’s claim that there was no doubt or self-recrimination but only ‘joyous acceptance’ on Robbie’s parts went a bit too far: as a young adult made suicidal by violent homophobia, it was highly unlikely that he did not struggles before coming out to his family.

We would never know what was going on in Robbie’s mind back then. Was he trying to explain to his family his decision to drop out of Cambridge? Was he crying out for understanding and support? Was he defying a hostile world full of harsh prejudices? Or was he simply sick and tired of concealing himself? As with many other parts of his story, we could only guess.

Nor do we know exactly how his family reacted. Biographers had different ideas: Bogle did not record any significant reaction and merely said matter-of-factly that his family found him a job in Edinburgh not long after he left Cambridge; Borland wrote that his family was ‘distressed’ and tried to ‘force him to change his mode of life’ by throwing him out; and Fryer claimed that his brother Aleck and his mother were not judgemental about his sexuality, though his younger sister Lizzie was vehemently against it. I believe Borland’s theory is more credible. For one, his brother Aleck wrote to Oscar Browning saying that: ‘He [Robbie] must leave home…my present idea is to leave him to his own devices. I think it would be much better for him if he had to make his own plans and carry them out himself.’ These euphemistic words hardly belie the harshness of the deed: though Robbie later proved himself capable of ‘making his own plans and carrying them out’, it hardly justified his family’s decision to banish him to Edinburgh at a time when he was distressed, vulnerable, and desperately in need of care. Secondly, the cold and puritan Edinburgh hardly suited Robbie’s constitution, and the job Aleck found him was a minor editorial position with a bunch of ‘sports-loving, hard-drinking, nationalistic young men’ whom Robbie probably did not find pleasant. It is therefore highly unlikely that Robbie willingly took up the job. Thus it is reasonable to postulate that after being bullied out of Cambridge, Robbie was thrown out by his otherwise loving family for his sexuality and left to fight the battles of life without support.

We could only imagine how difficult it must have been: he was a teenager on the cusp of adulthood, had his education disrupted, wronged by the world, cast aside by his own family, and left stranded in an unfamiliar city. His health suffered, and he became so unwell that he had to be brought back to London after just a year. Yet, from his humble lodging in Rutland Square, Robbie was still writing to his former supervisor at Cambridge voicing his indignation and articulating his longing for justice. This stubborn tenacity never left him in his subsequent years.

With his tenacity and his nascent genius for friendship, Robbie survived the harsh ordeal and made his first friends in literary London over the next couple of years. Foremost in his connections was, of course, Oscar Wilde, which shall be the focus of the next section. Through Oscar, Robbie connected with other ‘disciples’ of Wilde and became part of the 1890 group —— that group of liberal and libertine queer young men wearing green carnations and setting the fashion of the age —— who included Reggie Turner, Max Beerbohm, and of course, Alfred Douglas. According to Max, the group found Robbie ‘cozy and useful’.

Following Wilde, Robbie befriended More Adey at around 1890, an Oxonian expelled from Keble College for his conversion to Catholicism. Adey was eleven years older than Robbie and shared much of his artistic taste. In 1891 they collaborated on a new edition of Melmoth the Wanderer by Charles Maturin (Oscar Wilde’s great uncle) and referred to themselves as two halves of the same person. In that same year they began cohabiting and would lived together for the next fifteen years. Nobody can conclusively ascertain the nature of their relationship, some maintained that they were but platonic roommates who never shared a bed, whilst others believed that some form of long-term romantic relationship must have sustained their prolonged cohabitation. The only account of their interaction comes from Siegfried Sassoon, who knew Ross and Adey later in their lives. According to Sassoon, Adey was a kind but slightly unkempt and reclusive man with ‘lustreless dark eyes’ and a beard which looked ‘a bit moth-eaten'. After spending so long living with Robbie, the two men began resembling each other in their habits and mannerisms. He also had a ‘customary chair’ in Robbie’s flat even after they ceased to live together, and would shuffle into Robbie’s conversations late at night to ramble about the failures of the British government in his chair with no awareness that ‘two o’clock in the morning was the wrong hour’, whilst Robbie would tolerate his quirks and sit up with him regardless of the hour.

Then, in 1892, Robbie befriended Aubrey Beardsley through Aymer Vallance, a family friend. Robbie was dazzled by the ‘strange and fascinating originality’ of Beardsley and delighted in the subversive elements in his artistic designs. He later celebrated Beardsley’s decadent artistic style by comparing how he shocked the English public to how Juvenal’s satirised Roman society. Aubrey, in return, delighted in Robbie’s company, and over the next couple of years he frequently invited Robbie to lunch with him at very short notices when he needed artistic and personal advice.

Meanwhile, Mrs Ellen Beardsley, Aubrey’s mother, also took a great liking to Robbie as a reliable anchor in her son’s turbulent life. This was to become a lasting friendship. Though Robbie was twenty-three years her junior, his mature temperament and naturally caring disposition made him a trusted personal friend to her. Ellen often confided with Robbie the difficulties she had with her son’s turbulent mood and unstable health in great details. Upon occasions, she even relied on Robbie for advice on parenting: notably, in September 1893 Ellen entreated Robbie to ‘bring Aubrey to his senses’ and ‘shame him into proper behaviour’. In return, Robbie was to assist Ellen and care for Aubrey till the end of the latter’s life.

In that same year, Robbie befriended Edmund Gosse, who was twenty years his senior and ‘a great arbiter at the Savile as well as within literary London’. Gosse found Robbie very charming, and Robbie soon became a favourite with every member of the Gosse family. Through Gosse, Robbie made connections with many artists at different stages of their career, amongst whom counted Joseph and Elizabeth Pennell, R.A.M. Stevenson, Henry Harland, and D.S. MacColl, to name a few. Moreover, Gosse was to become some sort of life-long father figure to Robbie. In particular, during Oscar’s trial and imprisonment, Gosse was to be one of the few reliable shoulders Robbie could cry on, which for him was possibly a lifeline out of despair.

These friends of Robbie’s did not always mingle well with the Wilde circle. Chiefly amongst which was the animosity between Aubrey Beardsley and Oscar Wilde. Despite Wilde’s claim that he ‘invented’ Aubrey Beardsley, it was Ross who introduced Beardsley to Wilde and persuaded the latter to commission the famous illustrations for Salomé from Beardsley. However, despite their shared aestheticism and mutual artistic appreciation, they did not get along. According to Harris, the disagreement was chiefly artistic: in conversations with Beardsley Oscar showed ‘a touch of patronage, the superiority of the senior, […] and often praised him ineptly’, whereas Beardsley spoke of Oscar as a ‘showman’, who knew way more about literature than about art. Consequently their later-immortalised collaboration on Salomé was hardly collaborative at the time: Aubrey’s caricatures got on Oscar’s nerves, whilst Oscar trivialised Aubrey’s art as ‘the naughty scribbles a precocious schoolboy makes in the margins of his copybooks’. In the end, the relationship between Oscar, Aubrey, and the publisher of Salomé became rather strained, and the illustrations were sent back for re-working multiple times, much to Aubrey’s displeasure. However, their artistic differences probably had something to do with their respective sexualities as well. Despite his aesthetic appearances Aubrey was, for all we know, not interested in Uranian culture and disapproved of Oscar’s openness about his sex life. He once complained to Trelawny Backhouse that Oscar had bragged to him about having had ‘love affairs and resultant copulations’ with five boys in one night and had 'kissed each one of them in every part of their bodies’ including the dirtiest parts, which gave him ‘nausea like an emetic’. Later, Beardsley described both Wilde and Douglas to Robbie as ‘really very dreadful people’. Such personal disgust most likely animated their professional fights.

More Adey likewise disapproved Wilde’s flaunting of his sexuality, but his disapproval was more likely out of caution than disgust. Throughout his life Adey preferred to keep his private life strictly private, and he appeared so sexually aloof that few questioned his sexuality despite his 15-year-long cohabitation with Robbie (who was a ‘known homosexual’). However, like Beardsley, he seemed to have thought of Wilde and Douglas as dangerously corrupting influences on Robbie even if he stopped short of calling them ‘dreadful’. He once confided with a Catholic priest that he hoped to save Robbie from the ‘evil’ of Wilde and Douglas —— presumably meaning promiscuity with men.

But Robbie was hardly untouched canvas. Apart from the many sexual encounters he (probably) had in school and in Europe, from what we know, Robbie did enjoy himself rather liberally in queer London before 1895. Though we could not ascertain the extent of his involvement in Oscar and Bosie’s private ‘evil’, we do know that in Oscar’s ‘Neroian’ years Robbie was often a loyal fawn at his side. The three of them also shared liaisons with beautiful youths, though of those liaisons only bare outlines remain from a scandal in 1893. In that year Robbie fell hard for a young man called Claude Dansey, and after prolonged correspondence they spent a few nights together in Robbie’s London home. Afterwards, as Max Beerbohm whispered to Reggie Turner, Bosie ‘stole’ Claude from Robbie and ‘kept’ him at the Albermarle, leaving Robbie pining sadly for ‘the desire of his soul’. We do not know exactly what happened at the Albermarle —— we only know that many years later the notorious tale-weaver Frank Harris alleged that Oscar Browning had told him that at Albermarle Claude Dansey slept with Bosie, then Oscar, then a woman (most likely a prostitute) paid by Bosie —— but regardless, Claude went back to school three days late. Consequently, the school master Biscoe Wortham interrogated Claude on his whereabouts and intercepted a few letters from Bosie, which led him to discover Claude’s relationships with both Bosie and Robbie. This revelation came as a shock to Wortham, for Robbie had been a family friend. One thing led to another, Wortham then discovered that his elder son also had a brief fling with Robbie a few years back when both were teenagers. Both Wortham and the old Dansey threatened to sue Robbie for indecencies —— for some reason they were apprehensive about bringing up either Douglas or Wilde —— but Oscar Browning managed to dissuade them from prosecution.

In the aftermath of the affair Robbie was once again banished from home, except this time he had to go further than Scotland. His relatives denounced him as the ‘disgrace of the family’, the ‘social outcast’, and the son ‘unfit for society of any kind’. Like many gay men in the eye of the storm in the 1890s, he left his career and life behind for Europe. Bosie likewise went into exile to Egypt. He stayed in a house owned by his elder brother Jack and his wife Minnie, but they hardly spent time with him, so he spent most of his time alone except for attending gatherings of the English Literary Society. As with Oscar Wilde years later, the solitude and the shadows of the scandal left Robbie rather miserable. A reply from Max Beerbohm in 1893 showed that Robbie could not help but catastrophise about his grim future as a social pariah. He briefly made two trips back to London in 1894 but was sent away to North America by his family not long afterwards. Not much is known about him afterwards till 1895.

#history #queer history #victorian #victorian england #oscar wilde #robbie ross #literature #literary history #lgbtq+ history #Cambridge #aubrey beardsley #max beerbohm

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