#why is it that every dude who acts as if them showing off their money and houses and cars means you are more likely to date them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whatsk-poppinhomies · 1 year ago

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Pairing : Dad!Lee Felix x F!Reader TW : it's still pure angst ; Felix pining over reader ; biiig regret ; arguing ; Y/N has an idol boyfriend, but I'm gonna keep it a surprise, let me know in the comments how you feel ; Word Count : 4.7k Request : So many... It's here now! A/N : I kinda did a fast forward here because I feel like I do a lot of fics like this where the child(ren) are newborns and there's not much that I can do with all that. So, it's set about 2 and a half years after the first fic!

“You can finish editing tomorrow…” Your boyfriend said, coming up behind you as you sat in front of your laptop that felt like it was now burning holes through your eyes. “And the offer is still on the table, I can have one of the editors from the company take on the videos. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.” He leaned over your chair, his chin resting on your shoulder as your head jerked forward, your lack of sleep catching up with you fast.

“We’re not even supposed to be together, I don’t think the company would really be okay with editing the vlogs… I’m fine, I just need another cup of coffee.” You excused, making sure to save the current editing file just in case you passed out and accidentally clicked something. “Are the babies still sleeping?” You asked as you pushed yourself up from the chair, about to head to the bedroom door, but his hands grabbed your hips, holding you in place.

“Yes they’re sleeping. And you don’t need another cup of coffee, you need to get to sleep too.” He gently led you to the bed, stifling his laughter as you staggered and tripped over your feet on the way over, only letting you go to pull the blankets back far enough for you to get under them. Once your head hit the pillow though your eyes were shut. “Goodnight, baby…”

“Who the fuck is that?!” Felix groaned as he watched the video on the tv screen, hoping that if the image were bigger he’d be able to figure it out, but you seemed to perfectly blur the guy in every shot and you didn’t even show his face. “Clearly it’s her boyfriend or something… He’s holding the kids and he’s in every single fucking video!”

He had only found out about your youtube channel and your twice a week vlog uploads because one of the guys had shown him, none of them had even known that you had been pregnant when the two of you broke up, but when they saw the babies, they immediately knew that they were Felixs kids. He became a regular viewer, and he had even created a fake account just to follow your channel so he’d be notified when you uploaded.

It was the only way he was able to see his kids, he was too ashamed to try to reach out to you, and you had done so well with working while you were pregnant and saving up money that you didn’t even ask him for help. Now that your Youtube channel had taken off, you were making more money and you seemed happy and that destroyed him.

“Dude… Why don’t you just call her up and ask her who it is? I mean, they’re your kids, you have the right to know who’s around them…” Hyunjin groaned, watching the video on the screen be rewound for the hundredth time so Felix could once again try to make out the mystery man just by his blurred back. “This is ridiculous… You’ve been watching her videos for a whole year… It’s giving stalker vibes.”

“Shut up, everyone watches her videos. You’re not calling them stalkers.” Felix mumbled, leaning forward until he was almost halfway off the couch and slowing down the video before pushing play again. “What if he’s an idol… What if he’s like… One of us, and she can’t show him because it’s against company rules. I haven’t heard anyone talk about her though… I know a lot of people… Fuck!”

“Yeah but people that watch aren’t acting like you.” Hyunjin retorted, rolling his eyes as Felix got on his knees in front of the tv now, his face practically against the screen. “For fucks sake, just fucking text her and ask. The worst she could do is tell you to fuck off… Which honestly wouldn’t be far fetched considering the way you were… But still.” Felix paused the video once more only to look at Hyunjin over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed at his hyung. “Don’t even… You’ve literally been watching your kids grow up through a screen. Just… fucking try to set something up so you can at least meet them. It’s kind of pathetic that you’re doing all this.”

Felixs eyes rolled as he turned back towards the screen, now focused on his son and daughter, both of them being held by the blurred man in each of his arms, their smiling, freckled faces looking at the camera that was directed towards them. He had missed so much, but in some way, the videos made him feel like he was still there, he was still a part of their lives in some way, even from a distance. It’s all he had. “What am I supposed to do? Run back to her house and try to apologize? I said awful things, Hyunjin… I can’t take those things back. Let me at least have this.”

Hyunjin sighed heavily, running his hands over his face before looking down at his phone. “It’s 2 in the morning, Felix. At least do this shit when you’ve had some sleep. Your eyes are barely even open.” And, knowing that Felix wouldn’t move unless someone else moved him, Hyunjin got up off the couch and yanked Felix up off the floor. “And think about what I said… It would be way better than doing this every single night.”

“You’re bringing them in today, right?” Your boyfriend asked as you sat between both of the kids' highchairs, taking turns making train sounds as you fed them their morning oatmeal. You eyed him curiously. You had never brought the babies into the office, you never felt the need to, plus, nobody knew about them, nobody even knew that you and your boyfriend had been together for an entire year now. Everything was kept under wraps to protect him and the children.

“And why would I do that?” You mused, your eyes still darting between the kids to make sure none of them were spitting up their breakfast. He simply shrugged, but you saw the glint in his eyes, he was up to something. “They’re not old enough to be trainees yet, and I don’t even know if I want them to live that kind of lifestyle. You see how hard it is.” You were being honest, but you also knew that that wasn’t what he was thinking of at all, and usually when you said something so off the wall ridiculous, he’d quickly correct you and tell you what he was really thinking, and that’s exactly what happened.

“I don’t want them to be idols either. I want them to be happy and not have to hide from cameras all the time. I want them to be able to date… When they’re old enough, and not have to worry about scandals and rumors. I want them to be able to live their lives normally.” He agreed, pulling out the chair next to your daughter and lifting her bib to wipe her chin. “I want the guys to meet them, I want management to meet them. If they say anything, I don’t really care. I love you three, and I’m tired of things being so secretive. I want to be shown in your vlogs. I’m tired of everyone assuming I’m Felix because the kids look like him.”

You snorted loudly, drawing the attention of the kids beside you who both tried to mimic the noise you had made. “I think that’s the craziest thing you’ve said all week.” You joked, but he was serious, and you could tell by the look he was giving you. “Babe, I love you, and I’d love to be able to show you in the videos… But do you know how much backlash you and the group would get? I can’t do that.” You explained, scraping the last bit of oatmeal out of their bowls and feeding it to them before cleaning them up and letting them out of their chairs to go play.

“What are you talking about? Fans love watching us with kids, they live for it. We could get so much footage of not only me with the babies, but the other guys too. The fans will go crazy in a good way!” He tried to reason, and you knew he wasn’t exactly wrong. That’s why BabyClouds channel had so many views and so many subscribers. People really did love watching their biases in domestic situations like that. “Plus, I already told the managers that I was bringing in a couple people today that I wanted them to meet, and they cleared their schedule a bit to meet you guys.”

You huffed loudly, running your hands over your face. “Do they know exactly who they’re meeting, or did you just say someone?” You asked, and he pursed his lips, averting his gaze. “You’re throwing me and the babies into the lions den… What the frick?” He chuckled lightly at your censored curse, he thought it was adorable. “It’s not funny. You said it yourself that you didn’t want them being followed by cameras, and if the world finds out that it’s you in my videos, they’ll never leave you, me, or the babies alone.”

He reached across the table, grabbing your hands and giving them a light squeeze. “You’re thinking too hard about all this. Just go get ready, I’ll watch them while you do, and then I’ll help you get them ready so we can go up there. Everything is gonna be fine. I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think it would be okay.” He brought your knuckles up to his lips, pressing kisses along each of them before lowering them back down to the table.

“Felix is gonna find out…” You muttered, drumming your fingers on the table nervously. “I’m trying to protect your friendship. If he knew…” You trailed off. He didn’t care, he didn’t care about anything other than you and the kids. It was exactly what you wanted in a partner, and it was still shocking sometimes to see just how much he stepped up to fill that spot. “What if they get mad?”

He shook his head, getting out of his chair to stand beside you, slipping his finger under your chin and tilting your head up to look at him. “They won’t… And even if they do, you and the kids are worth more than being a star. This…” He looked around the house, the floor littered with toys, stains on the carpet from spilled bottles, scribbled out drawings that hung on the fridge like the most priceless paintings… “This is what matters, this is what I want.”

You blinked a few times, your vision blurring with unshed tears as you looked up at the man that you absolutely loved with your entire heart. “You’re amazing… you know that right? God, I love you.” He chuckled softly, leaning forward to press his lips to yours, his thumb gripping your chin lightly to keep you from pulling away too soon.

By the time your lips disconnected, you were breathless and slightly dizzy, not even wanting to open your eyes, but his voice brought you back down from cloud nine. “Go get ready, baby. I’ll watch the kids while you do.”

There was something big going on in the industry, so big in fact, that the heads of the companies themselves were said to have been talking about it. It was nothing solid though, at least, not that Felix or the rest of the guys have heard. In the grand scheme of things, when it comes to big news, groundbreaking information… the idols don’t hear much until it’s either about to come out, or when it’s already been released.

This case was no different, other than the fact that the people who did know were much more tight lipped about whatever it was that they knew. That didn’t stop tiny bits of information from coming through the cracks, making their way into Felixs ears in passing. A company war, was all Felix had heard though, and sadly, those words gave him more questions than answers.

At first, Felix thought it would be another Kingdom situation, but that didn’t make any sense to him after giving it a bit more thought. They hadn’t been told about something like that, and usually all the companies involved would be promoting it. None of that was going on, and whenever he caught wind of this apparent war between the companies, it seemed more serious than a tv show.

“BigHit Ent. Yeonjun finally reveals secret life… And it is Adorable!” It hadn’t been top news, but it was close enough that Felix didn’t have to scroll too far down his home page to see the headline. The picture that went along with the story was just a promotional photo of Yeonjun, so Felix was intrigued, wondering what it was that his friend was upto that he finally “revealed”. Felix could only assume that it was another pet, probably something like a Guinea pig or something, so he clicked the link, letting out a yawn as it loaded in.

The internet seemed to be going brutally slow, almost like it was done on purpose, but once the page had loaded in, Felix cursed himself for not taking time to mentally prepare for what it was that he saw. A screenshot image of the blurred out man from your vlogs had an arrow pointing directly to a selfie of Yeonjun, as if saying that he was the guy in your vlogs that Felix had been working so hard to identify.

That was impossible though… He and Yeonjun were close friends, and he was sure that Yeonjun would tell him something like that if it were the case, not exactly that he was dating you and parenting his children… But he would have at least heard something along the lines of him being in a relationship and being a father type figure… Right? It must have been clickbait, it had to be clickbait.

So he scrolled down, his heart already frozen in his chest before seeing anything. He didn’t know what he’d do if it wasn’t clickbait… Was there even anything that he could do? Taking a deep breath, he pushed play on the video that seemed to take forever to buffer. Of course, an ad came first, giving him time to breathe a bit more before the video actually started. It also gave him time to think more, panic more. Would it be an actual statement or just some video that looks like a fan edit?

When the ad ended, it was a black screen, and then it faded into Yeonjun, sitting in the room that he and the other guys usually did live streams in. Was he going to actually admit it? Was he going to say it himself? The managers actually agreed to this? “I’m sure everyone has seen the statement issued from the company, but I just wanted to come on here and say it myself.” He said, and Felix tried to remember if he had ever seen a statement at any point from BigHit. He was sure he hadn’t read anything, he would have texted him or called him if he had.

Yeonjun talked for a good bit, and Felix was barely even listening, still trying to rake his brain for any memory of a statement or any paparazzi pictures of you and Yeonjun together. There had been nothing. The two of you were either really good at hiding it, or the image at the top pointing to the blurred man in your vlogs was in fact clickbait and Yeonjun was with someone completely different. Felix would feel a lot better if that were the case. But then his eyes focused back on his screen when he saw movement just above the desk, as if someone was walking over.

“I guess he wanted to introduce himself first…” Yeonjun chuckled as he lifted the freckled tot onto his lap, gently grabbing his wrist and making him wave at the camera. There was no denying it, and even if he were to still attempt to say that wasn’t his son, you soon came into view as well, holding your daughter who looked identical to the boy, a spitting image of Felix himself, but the longer he looked, the more your features came into focus. The twins were a beautiful mixture of the both of you… breathing, living proof that at one point in time, the two of you loved each other.

You looked happy, and while that should make Felix happy, it did quite the opposite. How could Yeonjun, how could you do something like this to him? You knew that he and Yeonjun were close, you had been backstage for many shows and seen the interactions between the two of them. How was he supposed to continue being friends with the guy when he knew that Yeonjun was not only with you, but being a father to Felixs kids that he hadn’t even been able to meet.

“I’m so happy that the company allowed me to introduce them and show you this part of my life. These three are the most amazing people, and I’m honored that Y/N allowed me into her life. Now that everyone knows, it’ll make it so much easier for Y/N to post her vlogs, and you all can see what the four of us get up to in our daily lives.” Yeonjun explained, and Felix couldn’t handle it anymore. He couldn’t continue listening to his so-called friend talk about how he loved living out the life that should be Felixs.

He swiped off of the tab, his teeth gritted together as he stared at the ceiling. It felt like an attack, one so vicious that he couldn’t fully stomach the fact that it was coming from you. It was the breaking point though. He had gone long enough sitting back and trying to live vicariously through your vlogs, trying to put himself in the place of the blurred man in your videos. He was going to see you… But he had one thing to handle first.

///

“Tell the guys that me and the babies said hi.” You said from the couch, your head turned to look over your shoulder at Yeonjun as he stood behind you, his eyes bright and his smile wide as he looked between you and the children that he had come to call his own.

The two of you felt much more at ease now considering the fact that an entire week had gone by and nothing had happened, at least nothing that Yeonjun and yourself had truly been worried about. The fans were far more supportive than you both, and the company, thought they would be, and while there were a handful of weirdos that were now photoshopping their faces onto yours in your new vlogs, there were no actual threats. The biggest worry had been Felix though, and there’s been no word from him at all, so the two of you were just hoping that he either didn’t see it, or that it had been long enough since he had walked out that he realized it would be ridiculous for him to pretend to give a damn about what was going on now.

“I always do, babe.” Yeonjun murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips, the small peck gradually growing deeper and more passionate as his hands moved from gripping the back of the couch to cupping your face and keeping you close to him. “I’ll be home before dinner. Don’t miss me too much.” He winked at you, causing you to roll your eyes before he stepped around the couch to crouch down on the floor, pressing kisses to the top of the twins heads. “Be good for momma, I’ll bring you home candy if you are.”

“Junie… No candy…” You whined, pushing yourself up off the couch to follow him to the door, grabbing his bag for practice and handing it to him with a pout. “They hate having their teeth brushed, and the more candy you give them, the higher their chances for cavities and I don’t want them to have to go through all that.” You explained, and Yeonjun sighed softly, leaning his forehead against yours, and through that you could feel him vibrating with silent laughter.

“Fine… No candy…” He relented, his hands gripping your hips. “I’ll get ice cream on the way home and I’ll brush their teeth before bed.” He squeezed your hips, turning your protest into a quiet squeal and he took the opportunity to quickly back out the front door.

As Yeonjun made his way down the hall to the practice room, he saw the other four guys standing awkwardly against the wall, their eyes trained on him as if they were expecting him, but there wasn’t a good feeling that came along with their looks, not at all. “What’s up?” Yeonjun asked, glancing around at all of them, their lips tightly drawn together as they all looked at the practice room door that was left cracked open, but not enough to see inside. “You’re not gonna tell me?” Yeonjun quizzed, and the guys all kept their mouths shut and their heads low as he finally walked by them with a shake of his head into the practice room.

“You know, I’m not one to fight.” The voice that was so obviously familiar came from the far corner of the room and Yeonjun quickly turned in that direction to see Felix standing against the wall, his arms crossed but his eyes boring into Yeonjun like lasers. “And I don’t really want to fight now… I just want to know why. Why her? Why my family?” Yeonjun knew this conversation was coming, he knew that he’d have to have this talk with Felix at some point… He just didn’t think it would be happening now.

“Felix…” Yeonjun whispered, trying to keep things calm, which was especially hard to do considering the daggers that Felix was giving him from across the room. “It’s not easy to explain… And I really don’t think either of us have the time for this kind of talk. Maybe we should wait a little bit to talk about this, when you’ve calmed down a bit.”

Felixs eyes widened and he took a small step forward. “I’m calm… I’m super calm. And I’ve got all the time in the world right now to hear your explanation. So just humor me… Lie to me… Tell me something because I need to know why the hell you thought I’d be okay with this.” There was no security team around, there was no one but those two in the room right now. No one thought things would get violent, and Yeonjun was hoping for the same… But it seemed like Felix wasn’t going to let things go, not right now.

“I never thought you’d be okay with it because honestly I didn’t think that you’d care.” Yeonjun spoke truthfully, running his hand through his hair. “I never intended on dating her out of respect for you… But when I heard about the way you left, the things that you said… I decided that I shouldn’t care about the emotions of someone who clearly never cared in the first place. I did what made me happy, and it makes her and the kids happy too.”

“You don’t know my emotions… You don’t know how I felt… How I’m feeling now.” Felix stammered, and Yeonjun sighed loudly as he rolled his eyes. “You saw us at the shows, you saw how much I love her, you know I do. I was stressed from a tour when that happened, I was jet lagged and I was exhausted when she told me. I didn’t mean anything that I said that day, and I relive it constantly… So don’t tell me that I didn’t care… I don’t want to hear that shit.” Felixs voice gradually grew louder as he spoke, and Yeonjun was quickly realizing that this was a bad idea, that he should have gotten someone to come in here with him as soon as he saw that it was Felix standing in the room waiting for him.

“You’ve been silent for two years. Don’t tell me that you regret saying those things now that you find out that someone else is in her life and fathering the children that you said you’d rather have had aborted.” Felix winced when his words were thrown back at him, but Yeonjun wouldn’t stop, not there. “You prioritized your career, and I’m not going to belittle you for that because that’s what most people in our position would do… But don’t come in here yelling at me and trying to pick a fight because I decided to prioritize the family that you kicked to the curb. I didn’t care about what could have happened when I came out about it because my family comes before this job.”

Felixs head lowered, shame evident in his body language. “I’m sorry…” He muttered, his cheeks hollowed as he sucked them in, trying to hold in his sniffles. “You care a lot… And they deserve that… And I can see that you’re… happy… Being with them.” It was hard for him to say these things, to speak the truth that he didn’t even want to believe in himself. “I still want to meet them though… the kids… I want to see them… If that’s okay…” He couldn’t bring his voice above a whisper, and Yeonjun slowly walked over to Felix and wrapped an arm around his shoulder to try to comfort him, because even though the situation in itself was awkward… He still sympathized with his friend, he still wanted to be there for him.

“And no one will stop you from seeing them. I know they’re yours, and Y/N knows that you have the right to see them as well. She just didn’t want to bother you while you were working, and she wasn’t going to take you to court. We talked about it a lot and we came to the conclusion that you’d either come around and ask to see them, or you’d just move on and pretend that it never happened. I’ll ask her which day is good and I’ll let you know, okay? She’s got a doctors appointment coming up though, so maybe next week would be better.” Yeonjun explained, trying to remember the schedule for this week off the top of his head, but Felix tilted his head to the side, concern filling his eyes as he looked up at Yeonjun, who simply laughed at his reaction. “She’s fine, don’t worry. I didn’t want to tell anyone… She didn’t want anyone to know yet… But we’re expecting…”

“Expecting what?” Felix quizzed, backing out from under Yeonjuns arm, his eyes narrowed now and his eyebrows furrowing. “Is she sick or something?” He pressed, and Yeonjun was momentarily confused before shaking his head, the smile on his face sign enough that whatever was going on wasn’t awful, at least not in the morbid sense.

“She’s pregnant…” Yeonjun stated, and he watched Felix go through many emotions in such a short amount of time, like rolling a dice, and instead of landing on the side where Felix would congratulate Yeonjun on the news, he was angry. “Felix!” Yeonjun called out the name when the boy stormed past him, throwing open the practice room door.

“Screw this! You get my kids and a kid of your own! And you’re gonna stand here and act like you actually care about the way I’m feeling! You’ve taken everything away from me!” Felix shouted, and the guys in the hall all stood just outside the door to watch, their jaws slack and their eyes wide as they listened.

“I didn’t take shit from you!” Yeonjun shouted back, throwing his hands in the air, in complete disbelief at the sudden turn. “You didn’t want this life, you turned your back on it, so don’t get pissed when someone else gladly steps in and lives it for you!”

Felix scoffed, his hand balled into a fist against the door that he was holding open. “You’ll never have what we had… I’ll always be the father of her first children… And I’m back… And I’m not turning my back on it anymore. I’m ready to live that life… So you better be ready for me to be there all the time.”

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quitealotofsodapop · 3 months ago

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Ooh, the Stone Egg coming out when Xiaotian is courtnapped by Ruyi? Xiaotian is already stressed out from being abducted by a creepy older guy and now having to deal with Demon Bull family drama and Ruyi's incel/conservative uncle behavior-

But-

*slides idea that DBK's parents still alive and FURIOUS when they learn that their great-grandbaby is being born early because their son's an idiot and adding to the drama when the grandchild they never met SLAMS down the door to get to his mate*

Best way to describe my idea of the Immortal Ruyi is somewhere between "Scar" from Lion King + a stereotypical dark wizard.

Ruyi feels inferior to his older brother, banished or not. He feels that he must scrounge and hoard whatever power he must in order to secure his position - everything except changing a thing about himself.

When the Pilgrims encountered Ruyi; he was busy extorting the Kingdom of Women for access to the Abortion Spring - water that acted as a 100% guaranteed birth control for women (and unlucky monks) who did not want to have children. It wasn't just a matter of money - Ruyi has some pretty backwards ideas of what women should be "thankful for".

Makes sense why the Pilgrims beat the crap out of him and steal back all the money and treasures he's extorted from the women.

The Underworld is pretty inuslar - not much commincation between Realms happens down there. Even in the capital city of Youdu, communities are pretty self-isolating.

Except ever since what happened with the Ten Kings...

Yama/Yanluo needs to hire new staff.

Ruyi thinks he'd be a shoe-in for one of the Ten Kings! If only he had a good piece of arm candy to show off to the court...

Ruyi has a Compliant Hook that acts very simialrly to Wukong's Staff - and he might just use it to "hook" himself a stolen bride.

MK: (*finally managed to sneak out of the apartment to get a limited flavour of cheese tea*) Ruyi: (*whisks him away like an old-timey dastardly villain*) The Stone Egg, waking up: "Oh? It's game time now?"

MK of course; is NOT HAPPY with being kidnapped by some old incel demon to a corner of the Underworld!

Even more so when he realises from context clues that this is Red's Uncle!

Ruyi thinks it's foolproof. MK is a creation of Nüwa herself, and helped stabilise all of creation with actions - having him as a spouse would be major Rep points!

MK: "Dude! I'm taken! By your nephew!" Ruyi, preparing a concoction of spring water: "Do not worry. I will remove that roadblock when we come to it. Now you be a good wife and stop scolding me." MK, growing more and more furious: "I AINT YOUR WIFE!"

MK's own kaiju-form tries to activate, but can't due to the immense discomfort he's in. Only he knows the real reason for the cramping. He whispers to his baby to hold on just a little longer, as he staunchly refuses every piece of food or drink his captor tries shoving at him.

The chaos of the courtnapping, plus MK's own loud objections - alert the true masters of the Underworld Ox Palace...

I imagine DBK assumed that his parents had passed in the centuries he'd been gone - only to realise that they weren't dead, just retired from the political scene.

Ránshāo/燃烧 ("to ignite") and Fādǒu/发抖 ("shivering") were an arranged pair from birth - the union of two royal oxen clans spanning both the Hot and Cold Narakas of the Underworld.

One a dense, long-haired plume of fire. One a stern pillar of ice. Unseparable. If DBK respected anything of his parents; it was their bond.

From their union came the one who would be named "THE Demon Bull King"... and their second-born Ruyi.

They try not to play favourites but... the incident in the Kingdom of Women has soured their opinion over Ruyi's political standings. They have tried hard to throw off the imperial politics their own predecessors had imposed, and return to the "old ways". But clearly their current heir isn't wise to change.

The only thing stopping them from welcoming DBK back into their home is ultimately; Pride. If he didn't seek them out, neither would they.

Cycle of bull-headedness.

Until they smell and hear that their second-born has courtnapped himself an unwilling bride. One already with child.

MK: (*terrified and heavily pregnant*) Ruyi, showing off his prize: "Well..?" (*both ox demons look at one another... before slapping Ruyi across the head.*) Ránshāo: "YOU FOOL. Courtnapping is only legitimate if the other party accepts your affection!" Fādǒu, leaning down to MK: "The poor thing is shaking! Did you steal them from their maternity nest!? Their birth clan will have our heads if talk gets out!" Riyu, scrambling: "Well uh- I feel that they would be the perfect spouse for the heir of the Underworld Ox clan! Sun Wukong's successor is-" Both Oxen, so loud it shakes the palace: "THE WHAT?!" Ránshāo: "Are you telling me, this child is the successor of the ONE DEMON able to match our family in battle!? And you dared to kidnap him for your own selfish desires!?!" Fādǒu, hugging MK to her cool fur: "And what of their mate? Surely the existence of the calf in their stomach signals an existing sire!" Ruyi, kowtowing: "The child they carry was immaculately formed! Like the waters of the Mother-Child River! If it is an issue, I will remove it using the Spring-" (*Ruyi receives angry huffs from both parents, their breaths combining to create a boiling mist that forces him back*) Ránshāo: "Get out of my sight. We'll deal with you later." Ruyi: (*scuttles away by a cockroach*) Fādǒu, voice soft: "Child, does your clan know where you are?" MK, calming down: "No... but I imagine that they won't rest until they find me. Macaque can hear for miles, and Mei put trackers on my phone." Ránshāo: "We should prepare for guests then. We must apologize to them for the distress our second-born has caused." Fādǒu: "Is what Ruyi said true? That your child has no sire?" MK, little embarassed: "Uh! Well! It's a stone monkey thing I accidentally did. Baby is technically being made by me alone, but with Dao my body absorbs from my closest peeps and mate." Fādǒu: "Then who is your-?" (*The gates of the Underworld Ox Palace burst open as a stampede of kaijus arrive on-scene; dragon, demon, and celestial among them. The lead of the charge is a fiery cloud in the shape of a bull - the eyes burning with True Fire. The bull crashes through the front gates and throne room, trampling any obstable in it's path. It's charge only stopping when they see the monkey demon.*) Kaiju!Red Son, bellowing deep: "RETURN HIM." MK, surprised but delighted: "Red!!" :D! Both Oxen: (*share same looks of confusion and wonder*)

The sight in the palace is adorable; the tiny monkey demon waddling as fast as he can to embrace their mate, their furry arms not even able to encompass the snout. The massive bull gently nudging their smaller mate's face and belly, as if to ask "Are you okay?" The fire receding back to it's natural shape and size as more desperate kisses are shared.

No arrows or swords drawn - the appearance of Sun Wukong in his War Form put the fear of Buddha in every single one of the Oxen Palace guards.

And the appearance of the prodigal son put joy in their hearts.

DBK: (*arrives seconds later in his regular form, PIF on his shoulder. He looks confused as he realises where Red Son's trail has lead them.*) DBK, seeing the royal couple: "Mother? Father?" The Oxen couple: "Jǐn Cài Niu!?"

Ránshāo and Fādǒu don't even question why their first-born is there. The fiery tornado that ripped through their palace was nearly identical to the kaiju-form of their elder son - only now sporting the True Winds of the boy's celestial mother.

PIF herself is caught in the embrace. She's shocked by the closeness. She had not seen her in-laws in millennia - but now they greet her as if she were beloved kin? She barely manages to squeeze out of the giants' hold to watch her husband reunite with his parents.

Fādǒu: "A grandson! Xiaoniu - a grandson! And you never told us!" DBK, crying with frustration and joy: "I assumed that you did not care for him! I sent many letters to Father's office over the centuries!" Ránshāo, angry growl: "My office... the same office your younger brother as occupied for the last eon?" DBK, realising: "That bast-" Fādǒu, pulls his ear: "Do not finish that exclamation, calf." Ránshāo: "Do not blame him, my snowdrop. If Ruyi is only responsible for what happened today, he should be so lucky to live to see the next one." PIF, floating above the oxen: "I take it you've met our son's intended?" Fādǒu, gasping: "The expectant one!? Oh dear... barely a moment to adjust to knowing we're grandparents..." Ránshāo: "Now we are to expect our first great-grandchild!" Wukong, leans in to whisper: "So. We aren't in a fighting mood now, right?" DBK: "No. Now is not time for quarrel... unless you wish to catch up with my little brother. Odds are; he's already fled the palace." Mei, racing past in dragon-mode: "I CALL FIRST DIBS!"

Reunions and curb-stomps are cut short however - as MK is forced to reveal something that has been causing him grief ever since Ruyi kidnapped him.

Macaque, ears flickering: "He's in labour." Everyone present: "WHAT!?" MK, smiling through winces of pain: "Surprise?" Red Son: (*turns Kaiju-form off and in a feral rush, carries MK to a soft surface*)

Everyone is panicking, even the ones trained in midwifery. Wukong is stammering as he tries to manifest supplies from his transformed hair. Pigsy and Tang are screaming - realising that they need to grab the Bodhisattva Kṣitigarbha just in case babies aren't supposed to be born down here.

PIF is holding MK's hand, coaching him through the contractions and kissing his sweat-soaked brow. She knows the pain he's enduring.

Red is holding MK's other hand, not minding that the bones are most certainly broken by the stone monkey's grip. He's silent with excitement and fear.

Nezha briefly disappears, returning with Guanyin and Xiwangmu themselves at his side.

Guanyin: "When Nezha told me you were due - I certainly did not expect to come here! It's been some time." MK, Wukong & Macaque: "Same!"

It seems that the second MK is assured everything is prepared; the Egg pretty much shoots out - cracked and ready to go. The other monkeys barely have time to collect the broken rainbow-quartz shell when the baby starts howling to the universe.

The Room: (*stunned silent*) Newborn Haoye: (*immediately chirping and clinging to MK*) Macaque: "Wow. That kid did not wait at all to be born." Wukong: "Stress from the courtnapping probably scared him out." (*angry growls radiate around the room. Ruyi will be lucky to be found alive after tonight.*) Red Son & MK: (*both unintelligible blubbering*) "He is so small!!" "And orange!"

Xiwangmu nearly roars at seeing her great-grandcub alive and so loud. Her fellow great-grandparents do not hesistate to embrace the Empress when she hugs them out of joy. ("He's beautiful!" "He is!" "His taigong would have adored him!" "Did he get his fur from you Empress?")

The Underworld and the Celestial Realm are united fully in this moment... all for a tiny orange puffball who's barely a minute old.

Tang faints obviously. Pigsy holds it together long enough to say hi to his grandpiglet before passing out on the nearest sofa. Wukong and Macaque get a few sniffs in before joining Pigsy on the sofa.

All is calm.

Then Haoye sneezes and rainbow-coloured flames shoot out.

The Room: ( 0_0)? MK, laughing nervously: "Oh yeah. The Five Stones! Ha ha ha-!" Nezha, defusing: "To be fair... I spit rainbows." Mei, taking photos: "Aww, our little rainbow monkey man!!" <3

Now the baby has another set of great-grandparents to visit!

If one of the Man Yue gifts is a familar ox skull - MK doesn't comment on it.

#MKEgged au #pregnancy tw #spicynoodles being parents #childbirth tw #stone egg talk #lmk mk #qi xiaotian #lmk red son #spicynoodles #spicynoodleshipping #lmk immortal ruyi #lmk demon bull family #lmk dbk #lmk demon bull king #lmk pif #lmk princess iron fan #lmk aus #lmk #lego monkie kid

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eisforeidolon · 5 months ago

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The thing with doing 'so and so consumes x media' content? Is that you have to consistently bring something to the table that is more interesting to your audience than them just revisiting the media themselves. It can be something like BTS insider information, but it doesn't necessarily have to be that big of a something. Just enthusiasm and surprise as a new viewer can do it. In-depth media critique can do it. Snark can do it in the right circumstances (though that doesn't really apply with a podcast you're selling to fans). Etc.

I haven't and am not going to listen to the Now & Then podcast, but from the people who've talked about trying it that I've seen, I get the impression Rob & Rich don't really understand that. Or they mistakenly think that listening to two middle-aged dudes who appeared in a bare handful of episodes yammer at each other is in and of itself a draw. Uh, guys? Tuning in for you specifically as opposed to deciding to see you at a convention they're already at are very different things.

I feel like they tried to bill the podcast as being an insider take, but they themselves aren't insider enough to do that so they're intermittently hosting some guests from cast and crew who were. Except they fill time between the guests with them doing a first time react to the show. Which could work ... except it sounds like they're doing it badly. They don't actually seem to like the show, but are trying to sell it to SPN fans who are, you know, fans. They frequently miss or fail to understand major moments, themes, and plot points. In short, they fail to make it consistently entertaining to the general audience they were presumably trying to pull. So most of the fans that actually love the show and were tuning in hoping to enjoy them watching it as a way of revisiting it? Have tuned back out. Which leaves who to give them money for continuing to do it? Oh, right, the weirdos who would happily throw money at studio janitor #5 or random non-speaking extra #207 if they told them D/C was real and canon. R2 haven't 'seen D/C is real, OMG!'. They've seen that they can continue to make money off having been on SPN without even bothering to rewatch the show and pretend to enjoy it! All they have to do is go down a checklist of 'D/C moments' and hint they can see how shippers would be into it and hellers will happily throw money at them. They'd already lost most of the fans who tuned in hoping they actually had interesting things to say, so why not?

All that is dumb enough, but Insisting this means that if Jensen rewatched the show he would totally [understand D/C was canon/make it canon] is an impressive level up in absolute batshit stupidity. Jensen isn't some rando who was in a handful of scenes in 10-20 episodes across 15 seasons, only trying to pretend he cares about the show for money. No he hasn't watched the entire show back over, but he's read every script, talked to the writers and directors, and every fucking thing (bar a few flashbacks/de-agings) Dean Winchester ever did on screen did it through Jensen acting out what he saw as Dean's motivations. Despite their constant self-delusion on this point, the GA and most of the fandom did not watch the show and think there was any kind of romance between those two characters. So insisting Jensen himself would entirely change his mind on who Dean was and what he felt despite his prominent role in determining exactly those things by watching the show back as a whole?

It's the same old fixated obsession with their own fanfic and denial of rationality that has lead them to make these same stupid predictions queerbaiting themselves over and over and over and over and over and over and over and ...

#anti richard speight jr #anti rob benedict #destihellers

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heister-shmeister · 4 months ago

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houston was the main person who convinced sokol and jacket not to beef with each other. he pointed out things they both liked and started conversations with both of them involved in order to hopefully end the rivalry they started. houston likes talking to jacket about cars and analog technology. sokol shrugs off most of the car stuff. most he knows is how to steal a catalytic converter, and hes more interested in other forms of machinery. jacket and houston attend car shows every once in a while at which houston has to hold jacket back from attacking some random blue haired dude with a bike. most joy sokol derives from the car shows are standing by random americans fancy vintage cars and acting like an eccentric salesman, saying blatantly incorrect facts about whatever vehicle hes standing. houston fact checks him every time, pointing out what the car actually is and getting defensive about it while jacket is doubled over on the asphalt trying not to laugh. houston and jacket also bond over video games, something sokol didnt understand fully until they dragged him along to an arcade. it just wasnt something sokol grew up with but he had a fun time playing air hockey. when jacket plays air hockey, hes less focused on blocking peoples shots as he is on hitting the plastic puck as hard as he can physically muster, leading to events where he is losing but its fine because he shot the puck across the room. houstons reaction time is just a bit too slow for air hockey, and sokols knowledge of how to hit REAL goals makes him good at shooting the puck at the perfect angle to score. jacket likes spending any money he has on the claw machine. nobody knows why. houston says theyre rigged and that the only time hes ever 'won' anything from it was when he lockpicked a machine to steal his quarters back. while sokol watches jacket meticulously line the claw up with a jigglypuff plush he points out the structural integrity of the claw. how it wraps around the object fine but lacks the grip strength and is constantly dangling like it isnt possible to just secure it better. houston tries to explain that the point of the machine isnt to be fair, in fact its the opposite. sokols favorite arcade games are ones where you literally just gamble. houston and jacket walk off to get food leaving sokol by the one fishing worm spinny wheel of tickets. they come back to discover sokol has broken one machine from the sheer force of him pushing the lever down and scooted over to one directly next to it, still gambling his money away with a somewhat decent pile of tickets at his feet. houston pickpockets random tiny trinkets from the arcade's prize corner. most of the stuff is the equivalent of 5 hours of playing time, so he forgoes those five hours and grabs junk just because he can. just because it tempts him. he cant NOT steal something thats so perfectly ripe for the taking, even if he has no use for it at all.

#payday 2 #payday 3 #sokol payday 2 #houston payday 2 #jacket hotline miami

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goodolddumbbanana · 4 months ago

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I think there is something very funny about how people keep seeing Dark Sun worse than how he perceived himself.

Like sure, Dark Sun is smart, knowledgeable, selfish and self preservation, he tortured his Moon and maybe killed everyone else and did some immoral things off screen. But for real...

Have we seen him really do anything really truly evil or manipulative?

1. This is the same dude that can't even pretend to be himself, to be Sun without people keep recognising him.

Foxy, Nexus, Puppet, Ruin, like they only need to glance at the first sign and immediately go, 'yep, it is not our Sun.'

The only reason why Earth and Lunar fell for his trick was because 1. they haven't met Dark Sun before; and 2. They never thought they would fall for the same trick again after the Goliath thingy. And 3. Dark Sun wasn't too active about going along with his plan and actually played with Earth and Lunar a little bit.

And with Eclipse and Lord Eclipse because well, Eclipses always look down at Suns.

Because when I look back at Sun and Dark Sun's acting, they are literally the same. They both jump too quickly into their needs, their language bodies are too stiff, they are both making people feel like something was wrong about them but they couldn't tell what it is.

Like how Sun pretends to be Ruin, Monty could feel something very wrong but they didn't know why. Or when Dark Sun pretends to be Servant Sun, Lord Eclipse catches his of guard about the things he said but doesn't react to it. (LORD Eclipse never told Servant Sun to stop moving when Lord Eclipse kills him.)

Both of them, Sun and Dark Sun, only succeed in their acting because people usually look down or not pay attention to them. And when people do, they tend to get caught pretty quickly.

2. He totally used Nexus for his own advantage. But to be fair, from what I gather from these episodes, he literally lets Nexus do whatever he likes inside his lab. He pulled the strings to get Nexus to work with him for sure, but it was also the same dude who got pissed because Ruin stomps into his dimension.

He acts the same way Sun did when Moon got reset.

From these first days when Nexus woke up, Sun was the one who handed everything. He knew about Nexus's arm, he knew about the portal's access code...

It is not sudden Sun got smarter. He just has more knowledge than Nexus at that time...

And for someone who manipulated, Dark Sun pretty much just like watching the newest shows before anyone else. Just like he has seen the future... And use it for his own interests.

Sun also did that too, the little manipulative thingy, but only with small inconvenienced things. He lies to Nexus about learning the star power. He brides Lunar to force Moon to go to sleep. He steals money to buy Rocksan Wolf rings or something when he used to crush her. Oh.. and he didn't tell Moon about July 16th...

3. Dark Sun only focused on his goal. We didn't know what it was but he never did anything to harm people outside it.

Like, he totally could harm or kidnap Lunar, but he didn't do that. Or he just killed off Moon, but he didn't. He also kinda pushed Lord Eclipse down to the cliff and did not kill him immediately, with the diaglode the same one when Sun went down the spiral and tried to kill Eclipse.

"I told you, you are going down, right now."

"To remind Every eclipse will fall in the end..."

Sound familiar? Both Dark Sun and Sun said so... When they killed Eclipse. The only difference is that the Sun gets his hand dirty and traumatized, he also falls when doing that task. And Dark Sun succeeded without his hand dirty.

And my favourite part, both Sun and Dark Sun pointed out how miserable and pathetic and stupid Eclipse is and admit they were pretty much thinking too highly about Eclipse.

Dark Sun still has some morals, and that show in the way he doesn't want to dirty his hands, he doesn't want to rule the world or something absolute like that. He just wants to live in peace without anything cross his way.

I love Dark Sun so much and I hope people wouldn't misinterpret him like someone who was cold and cruel and manipulated and abused Nexus while in fact He just flows with the stream and takes manners in the selfish way for himself.

#sun and moon show #tsams #the sun and moon show #tsams sun #sams sun #tsams dark sun

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xclowniex · 8 months ago

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Every time people talk about how Israel isn’t losing as many people in wars, I want to groan so much that my throat gives up on me. Like, dude, why do you think that is? It’s not because Hamas doesn’t try. It’s the fucking Iron Dome, which takes a huge amount of money and portion of the budget to keep going. It’s because the buildings are specifically been designed with a shit ton of infrastructure that can survive missiles and rockets. It’s because there’s the bare fucking minimum in Israel of bomb shelters

You know that it’s actual regulation that almost every building needs to have some sort of shelter? They do this with flats too, my cousin and her boyfriend’s shelter is literally their bedroom because they NEED this and there wasn’t enough space to put it in other places. It used to be just shelters below buildings, but they’ve changed it to other rooms too because in the 90’s the chance of missiles which used toxic gas were becoming increasingly high (this is something my parents went through, once there was a missile attack, they were told it could be gas too so they couldn’t go to the shelter. What they had to do was stay in their homes and just put wet towels on ever window and door that had a gap in it. My parents were on the phone the entire time, they were both beyond terrified and my mum thought she was going to die)

And here’s the thing— Gaza could absolutely have that too! Gaza could have missile diverting technology, Gaza could have shelters, Gaza could have strong infrastructure that can survive bombings much better. But they don’t. And the reason— Hamas takes all of this aid supplied, billions of dollars, and either siphons it off for their leaders in Qatar to enjoy, or uses it to build their tunnels and buy more weapons. And it’s a fucking tragedy, when I think about it I start to feel sick and you should too. Because this is horrible, and Gazans deserve so much more than this. But they can’t have it, because their government (if you can even call the mess that is Hamas a government) has decided that their lives aren’t valuable enough

You can criticise Israel for its current assault on Gaza, absolutely. While the idea that the idf as a whole (not talking about individual soldiers, which is still horrific when it’s only a person and not a system, don’t get me wrong) is actively targeting civilians is ridiculously wrong, and leans into the ‘bloodthirsty Jew’ trope. What you can say is that while the idf provides warning, they still aren’t putting civilians high enough on their priority list. They’ll warn a family and help them get out if they’re about to bomb their house or near it, but they won’t not bomb it if the family refuses to evacuate. You can absolutely cut criticise that (just make sure you understand that, very upsettingly, this is a very common thing in war). But this— acting like Israel using aid to help its own civilians, and then implying that it’s its fault for somehow not doing the same for Gaza? This? Is fucking bullshit, and all you’re doing is showing that you care more about the perceived reality of the ‘evil oppressor Israelis who have never faced anything in their lives’ than you do about the truth and real people’s lives

(Also side note, why do they always point to Tel Aviv to be like ‘see! Israel isn’t affected by the war at all’?? Like, of course Tel Aviv isn’t going to be affected by rockets and missiles much. It’s well in the Iron Dome’s territory and very far from Gaza. If you want to see the devastation from this war for Israel you can go to Sderot, or any Bedouin village, or the Golan if you want to see what Hezbollah’s done. They just live in a fantasy world lol)

I 100% agree.

#israel #i/p #palestine #i/p war #gaza #ask clownie

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disneyanddisneyships · 2 years ago

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Hear me out-

It's before Alaponi are dating, but Al's just figured out hes inlove with Aponi, and as usual, aponi fell first so shes also inlove with him

Like he's just doing his fun little "stalking Aponi" time AS PER USUAL. Aponi just went out from a small club after work and earning money ig.

And then this random demon dude starts hitting on her and no matter how much she tries to sass him he wouldnt go away

And then when 'Poni gets frustrated about it, this deer boi comes in the picture

And hes like, "I'm sorry, but I'd prefer you step aside from my girlfriend." and the 'girlfriend' part is in non-static.

Note, they're NOT dating (yet)

She plays along, demon runs away. They have an akward walk on the way to the hotel

.... I gotta write it

Alastor x OC au

Aponi groaned as she stretched.

Turning off her phone and grabbing her bag she walked out of her dressing room.

God was it a hard night. Aponi had worked her thighs so hard that they would definitely be burning in the morning.

Aponi walked tall. Hell was a lot like a more intense New York mixed with LA. you had to show confidence, act like it would be difficult to take you down.

Of course the 7 inch heels Aponi was wearing helped in her struggle with that.

Aponi rolled her eyes as she walked.

Demons from all over looked, gawked, and whistled at her.

But one demon started following her.

She held her breath as she took out mace from her bag, discreetly.

"Hey pretty lady," the demon spoke with a smirk as he stepped in front of her.

"Hey ugly man," Aponi countered.

"Oh don't be so mean, baby! Not a lot of guys down here like that!" The demon replied.

"And not a lot of girls like you either. Yet you still try," Aponi stated before trying to push passed him, only to be stopped by his hand grabbing her arm. "Let go of me," Aponi warned as she held the mace in her hand tightly.

The demon pinned her against the wall. "Oh just bee a good girl and stop talking," he muttered.

Aponi kicked him in the nuts before making a move to run away, only for the demon to trip her. The demon moved to be on top of her.

Her eyes widened at the flashbacks she was having from her life.

"Youre a fighter," he muttered. "I like that," he smirked.

As fast as lightning, their surroundings glitched in a shade of red and black.

Alastor showed up.

"Back off! Can't you see were having some private time?!" The demon shouted only to be startled off of Aponi when alastor's full demon form made itself known.

"I'm sorry. I'd prefer you step away from my girlfriend," Alastor stated, his words glitching.... well... all but one.

Aponi was taken aback, but she didn't have any time to think about it.

She stood up and went to hide behind alastor.

"Hey, sorry man. I's just havin some fun," the demon stated as he backed off, trying his best to keep the little amount of self respect he had left.

As the demon walked away, Alastor's form morphed back into the one Aponi was used to.

"Shall I walk you home, my dear?" Alastor asked.

Aponi gave a small smile before nodding, and hooking her arm through his.

The two walked back to the hotel in silence.

Every demon that looked at Aponi ran away as alastor gave them a scary glare.

"I'd like to thank you... for saving me," Aponi spoke, drawing Alastor's full attention.

"Oh darling, of course!" Alastor exclaimed.

"Um.... Alastor?" Aponi asked.

"Yes, my dear?"

"You called me your girlfriend...." Aponi muttered.

"Ah yes! Merely a way to get that nasty bootlicker off of you!" Alastor spoke, attempting to hide the small blush creeping on his face.

"Oh!.... right....." Aponi replied, her smile fading a small amount.

"I still don't understand why you work for that lowlife," Alastor spoke.

"Who, Valentino? Eh he's harmless. Sure I have some bruises but they heal over fairly quickly," Aponi stated.

"'Bruises'?" Alastor asked, his voice glitching out.

"Well... yeah.... don't know if you've noticed, but he's not a very good guy. Angel has it worse though.... but we're under contract. I can't do anything about it," aponi explained.

".... I could," Alastor whispered.

"What was that?" Aponi asked.

"Oh! Uh.... I wish you could," Alastor stated.

The two walked up the steps of the hotel.

"Well uh.... I should get to sleep...." Aponi muttered.

"Yes! Right! You should-"

Alastor's yes widened at the kiss Aponi planted on his cheek before scurrying into the hotel and up to her room.

Alastor stood there on the steps, feeling like he could take over heaven.

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agent-bash · 1 year ago

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You’re a union member correct? What do you think of the double strike, and some of the confusion being caused with things like con appearances?

I am. Obviously, it's a very different union, but yes I am a member of a union.

I fully support the double strike. I don’t think any of either union’s demands are unreasonable or unnegotiable, if it's met with good faith. Particularly regarding the use of AI. And the more the AMPTP talks trying to defend themselves and their stances, the harder I roll my eyes.

It’s always important to remember when/if you’re struggling to get behind WGA and SAG-AFRTA and their demands for money and the like, is that the union represents all members, while we tend to immediately think of the severe minority. Not everyone in the union is pulling in millions or even hundreds of thousands for every appearance they make. Not every tv actor is getting paid a million dollars per episode like the core 3 from TBBT did. Most of them aren't. Unions are fighting for that dude you’re distracted by in the background because you swear you’ve seen him before. Or that woman whose voice is so familiar even though she only spoke two sentences in the movie you're watching. The majority of SAG-AFRTA members don’t even make enough to qualify for the union's health insurance plan. So yeah, a good thing to keep in mind.

As to cons, if it were me, there’s no confusion; they’re a no-go. Because, like it or not, conventions, meet and greets etc., do promote the shows/studios that the union is striking against. Even if it's not a studio-involved appearance, like San Diego Comic-Con, the real target of that rule. Actors can't promote at all. Even unofficially. And that's exactly what this convention is. Unofficial promotion. It's why this stuff isn't usually in actors' contracts. Because studios see them as free promotions. They don't have to pay actors to appear, and it has the chance to draw eyes to their shows or movies. Win-Win for them.

Then there are the photos for the meet and greets. People are going to tag the show on their socials. Either the shows Insta directly or in the tags. That's more promotion. And while I don't think that is something that can/should be held against the actors in an official capacity, a) it could be, and b) if it were me, I'd feel like a scab.

There's also thinking of it from a fan perspective. They can't talk about the show. A large part of the reason people are there. People are (rightly) curious about their takes on the show. The characters they play. Where the next season is going to go. Or, in the case of Jesse, Nick and Torrey, what they think their characters' are getting up to off-screen. They can't answer any of those questions. They can't talk about upcoming projects they may have been in prep for. Even generic career day-like questions, like 'How did you get into acting,' carry an element of risk in answering. So what's left to ask? 'Top things to do in Chicago?' 'What is your favourite hidden gem restaurant?' 'Jesse, what golf course do you most want to play?' Not anything the majority - even of fans who show up for events like this - care about. So I'd feel like an ass, asking fans to pay money to not get an actual convention experience.

#asked and answered #union stuff #wga strike #sag strike

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lucysinatizzy · 2 years ago

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wisteria sneak peek?

I got you, anon!

“Is this a joke?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Eddie scoffs, flicking the cigarette butt to the ground. He glances at the guy’s letterman jacket, then back up to his eyes. “This isn’t the same shit as before. It’s a lot stronger. Thirty-five is my final offer. Take it or leave it, man.”

“Derry said he got it for thirty.” The jock crosses his arms and frowns. Too bad. Being pissy won’t change anything. “Why am I getting charged more?”

“Derry needs to learn to shut the hell up before he gets cut. I just got this in, so none of your little friends tried it yet. The last stuff was some mid-grade bud, but this…” His ringed fingers tap against the old pail. “This is top-shelf dank. Makes the grass you had seem like reggie. It can easily go for forty-five. Maybe even more. I’m giving you a deal here, dude.”

Callihan stares at the pail, mulling it over. It’s a waste of time. They both know he’s gonna buy it. These guys don’t have any other options for getting weed. Not in this dump of a town. Plenty of the small-time dealers were scared off after Powell became the police chief and worked overtime to prove he could fill the role Hopper left behind.

‘C’mon, man. Make up your damn mind. I got other crap to do.’

“Alright. If it’s as good as you say, then I’ll take a half. Do you have the little guys, too? Got a big test coming up and I need to focus.”

“Yeah, I gotcha.” It’s the same every time. After counting the cash twice, he gives him the goods so they can part ways. “Just a heads up, it's a creeper. Don’t be surprised if it suddenly knocks you on your ass.”

“Okay. See you later.” Callihan says absentmindedly, looking around the long-abandoned parking lot in case anyone passes by. They’re all like this. Totally paranoid that someone might see them doing a deal. Committing a crime. It would completely ruin them. He shoves the bags and bottle into a pocket inside his jacket before taking off toward his own car. All the while turning his head every which way like he’s expecting the five-o to suddenly show up.

These morons apparently don't understand that it looks way more suspicious when they act all sketchy. Even when he tells them to be cool. It’s like they can’t help it. The places they meet to do a trade-off are safe. That’s the point. After all, if something happens, he is the one who’s most fucked. His ass will go to jail while their parents do whatever it takes to get them out of trouble.

He sighs and stuffs the money into a pocket when a drop lands on his nose. Looking up toward the sky, he groans in annoyance at the thick, dark clouds rolling in. She was right. The weather’s supposed to get real nasty tonight. It’s already starting to spit.

“Shit.” That took up too much time. He quickly hops in the van and peels out of the parking lot. This is cutting it close. It’s messed up to make Chrissy stand out in the rain after getting her to agree to come.

‘I should have enough now.’

His lips curl up at that. There’s one good thing about being a dealer in a place like Hawkins. If he’s strapped for cash, it’s easy to just charge a little more to make it up. Where else are they gonna go? That leaves it all up to his discretion. Selling to a well-off asshole? Well, that quarter that normally goes for twenty-five now costs ten bucks more.

‘I’ll get it tomorrow.’

It doesn’t take long to get to the ritzy section from there. The van takes a sharp turn onto Douglas and keeps going until the familiar spot comes into view. Thanks to daddy big bucks coming home, he has to go back to sitting at the corner of Roseline. No more pulling up in front of their house.

Eddie glances at the time before sitting up to mess with his hair in the mirror. There’s a few minutes to kill. Oddly enough, he has the same jittery energy coursing through him just like the first time they met up here. They saw each other only a couple of hours ago, but he’s already excited to hang out with her again.

‘What a friggin’ loser.’

Tap, tap, tap.

“C-Christ!” He jolts, almost tearing out a knot when someone knocks on the window. It’s Chrissy, waving at him from under an umbrella with a bright smile. The rain is picking up. Reaching across the seat, he quickly opens the door for her to get in. “I was about to hop out to meet you.”

“That’s okay.” She says sweetly, climbing in and shaking the umbrella out before closing it up. The first thing he notices is her hair. It’s down in loose curls with the bangs teased out. A do he’s suddenly a big fan of. “So, how does this work? Do you have to pick the guys up first or are we meeting them there?”

“I, uh…” That’s a different outfit than the one from earlier. A thin white blouse tucked into high-rise jeans. She left a few buttons undone, giving him a view of the ‘86 necklace, and going down low enough to show off a little cleavage. That’s not the problem though. “We’re going… somewhere.”

‘Holy shit! I can see her nipples poking right through that flimsy ass shirt. Is she not wearing a bra?’

“I know? That’s why I’m here.” The cheerleader raises a thin brow at him, clearly confused by the response. But he barely hears it. His eyes stay locked on the small peaks aimed in his direction, even as she rubs her arms to warm up. That only makes it worse by pushing her tits together. Now he’s on fire and might have to toss himself out into the rain to cool off. “...What are you staring at?”

“Crap.” Eddie’s finally able to tear his gaze away when she quickly covers her chest. Oh, no. The accusatory look he’s getting says it all. “They started it. If something stares at me, I stare right back.”

“Eddie!”

#anon #asks #thanks!#my writing #hellcheer #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #not finished editing #Eddie's hustling jocks to get extra cash just to buy something for Chrissy #they're about to go to The Hideout #eddissy #stranger things #wisteria

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yesterdayiwrote · 2 years ago

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I think what has always defined Lewis for me and made him stand out to me in comparison to literally any of the other guys (aside from Sebastian) is that he really tries. To see, to listen, to understand and to act. And obviously, he really does amazing stuff with his money and influence. He puts in the effort, he wants to be good and he's often succeeding at that.

But concerning some of his activities (the whole nature of F1 in itself is obviously already a problem, the druving, the flying, the countries they race in) as well as some of the people he finds himself with as this celebrity persona he is, he just seems blinded by priviledge and the bubble of this world he lives in, as a F1 driver.

He's not as ignorant as pretty much everyone else on the grid, but his trip right now (or that comment he made after Africa without even realising what that sounded like, or the admiration he showed for the Queen, yk, stuff that doesn't seem to occur to him as being potentially problematic but that still is, at least to some degrees) shows that, as yet another very rich man who is always surrounded by other rich people, he still lacks lots of awareness. Which doesn't surprise me, but of course it's upsetting.

Ultimately, Lewis is not One Of Us, none of these drivers are, because they live in a completely different world, and while some of them might make the effort to actually stop and reflect sometimes and while some of them might try to be better, I think the sad truth is that more often than not their privilege is always going to catch up on them, often without them even realising that that's what's happening.

Concering Lewis, what matters to me is that he tries, I suppose? You know? But yeah, making trips like this that seem inherently contradicting with their purpose and condoning company like that obviously puts things into perspective again and should remind everyone that utterly idolising any of these men (or famous and rich people in general) isn't what should be done because it will end in disappointment from time to time.

I think this is a really honest and fair summary tbh.

Lewis does make an effort, and he genuinely does seem to try and keep himself informed, but then equally I think that’s personally why I sometimes find it *more* annoying when he does stupid stuff like this because you just kinda think “C’mon dude, I know you’re not ignorant about this”. It’s kinda the older sibling curse in someways. You get more flak than your younger sibling because you should ‘know better’.

I think it’s very important to remember different things are problematic to different people, and they can’t be everything to everyone all the time, every thing they do or say is going to piss SOMEONE off. I think maybe we do have to stop expecting so much from them? But equally we shouldn’t be afraid to call something out that might be bullshit?

#antarcticagate #I’m aware this could be seen as a bit contradictory #but I think there’s no one correct approach if I’m honest

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scienceshir · 8 months ago

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WARNING a long ass post ahead, but only because this beef got weird and crazy af (imo) lol

Lol this beef even made the educators who met/knew of J Cole while he attended St. John's university come out lol. This woman said she interviewed him for something in relation to the school and said he always had a good head on his shoulders and was not surprised that he made a smart move:

That being said, I hope he continues to be smart and stop fucking with Aubrey, forreal. The reasons for Cole to keep his distance from dude just keeps on adding up. Cuz why his house getting shot at. Why he dealing with drivebys (or possibly setting them up for public sympathy). Whether that shooting was real or not, its messy and dangerous. I really like Cole, so I am praying the union they had is done and Drake is not on the fall off. We don't wanna hear it. Not because Kendrick obviously doesn't like him. But like we notice, every time he comes around Cole, Cole has to deal with some damn stray/negativity. Mess follows that dude, and I don't like how he handled/reacted to Cole for apologizing. Its a good thing Cole made that last minute move to exit or he would be mocked by the entire world like Aubrey or something. The only thing they are taking seriously about Aubrey now is them predator/pedo allegations. The feds could be watching him/his crew, cause them allegations Kendrick threw were serious (as are the allegations that Aubrey threw to Kendrick), and Aubrey didn't really do himself justice when he responded at all. I personally hated that molestation approach he took, thats just me. Out of all the disses, that was the first time I truly felt disgusted by what I was listening to. I know its battle rap, but there had to be a better way than that. Anyway, One of the main reasons I hope Cole distances himself is because of how low key spiteful Aubrey acted towards Cole for dropping out. He acted like the trolls on the internet did. As I mentioned before, it was obvious Drake didn't take the apology decision well at first. But still, a month goes by, and on his Family matters diss, Aubrey did that shit again. And everyone noticed- some were even taken aback that he kept poking at it, so much so, the top comment under the official video is about how he threw another stray at cole:

I think this is why in "Not like us", Kendrick said Drake "Did cole foul, why you still pretending", after mentioning how Drake disrespected tupac. Kendrick was def reacting to the family matters diss because he mentioned Drake's slave comment. So I think by "foul" he meant that Aubrey of all people is the one that keeps throwing jabs at Cole, knowing Cole was doing what was truly best for himself/his life. He should have been understanding or like "whatever" by that point, but clearly he was not. Kendrick himself didn't even react that way to the apology and he was the one that got a whole diss record thrown on him from cole. If ANYONE should be hanging that over Cole's head after a month, its Kendrick. But Ken did not, Aubrey did, just like Cole's haters did. Thats interesting. And yeah, that makes aubrey seem entitled and like he really didn't care , he just wanted Cole to still be involved probably because that would have served him more. Yea, Aubrey is never beating the "user/shady/fake/not a good person" allegations. In my opinion, he showed Cole his hand with these multiple poor apology reactions. I really hope this entire situation finally made Cole re-evaluate and start being more careful with who he works with and lets get close to him. I don't think he been the best at that these past 2-3 years. I think he always just cared about the music and making music/making money. But this beef should have showed him, he really should start caring. This beef was like a domino affect. It got sad and ugly for almost everyone. Many things showed showed you can not trust these people or be too friendly with them. Aubrey's own crew has moles in them and is trying to help take him down. Cole got lucky because this got ugly for almost everyone, including their families. And we don't even know if Ken and aubrey were really telling the whole truths on each other or if they was just spewing the worst lies/rumors just to destroy each other (although obviously there is more "evidence" for the allegations against drake)

Kendrick still the winner in my eyes if I had to pick between him and Aubrey. Cole is still a winner to me for doing something that I could tell in many ways was best for him and in the long run he will probably appreciate his decision even more. He graduated from a good university with a 3.8 GPA and we see why

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winderlylandchime · 1 year ago

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3x11 1/2: i would just like you to know that when we finished this ep, my neighbor sent me a text to ask if all is good cause he was screaming about Britin ‘Ohhh are they gonna do some vigilante shit again? Why are they in a truc- oh Brian this sad. This is so sad. How fucked up that they had to go home to fuck. One thing you can count on besides my undying love for Brian, is his love for messing with Justins hair. I like how in the beginning the bedroom light was blue because its more cold and now he’s all in love and shit and the light is orange. I’m a fucking genius when it comes to this show’ ‘I am so mad that Brian looks so fucking hot while in a room with this fucking pig! He wants to put him in the Gay and Lesbian center? Brian, I thought we were past this bullshit?’ THE GLC SCENE IS UP!! ‘Every gay person here needs to get their membership card revoked! Immediately. BLONDIE. Whos Marga- OH FUCK. Oh shit OH FUCK. DID YOU SEE THAT?! Wait rewind time bitch!Look at Brian’s death stare and how he squeezes his hand tight as fuck when my girl Jen mentions prom. He is sick to his stomach right now. Wait did he..did he plan this out? How dare he look at my blondie? Keep walking bitch.’ ‘Ted, please what the fuck is going on with you? THAT GUY IS GONNA KILL HIM!’ ‘I love blondie but this has Bri Bri written all over it, how can they not realize it? OH DEBBIE KNOWS! So if she knows why is she acting dumb about brian? What do I have to do for Debbie to lay off of Brian for one second?‘ Michael just told Brian that he’s lucky about the parents thing ‘HE DID NOT. Dude. BRIANS PARENTS SUCK ASS WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? And you know that! So not cool’ ‘TED NO. TED WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? HE IS AN ACTUAL DRUG ADDICT. Fucking hell, this hurts to watch’ the scene with Justin waiting for Brian with a poster is happening *jumps up and shakes his hands* ‘ I FUCKING KNEW IT! WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY?! HE HELPED! MY BOY GOT HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS ASS!’ *loud groan bc stockwell is on tv* there is literally no fucking escape from this fucker. fuck, fuck fuck HE KNOWS ABOUT BRIAN. Well shit, is Trumpy wannabe gonna try and play Brian back? (Cuts to Britin) HELL YEAH BACK TO THE IMPORTANT SHIT! Words cant explain how much i missed them. Brian! Be careful because the dude knows but please continue my dudes. (Cuts to Stockwell) *groans*oh come on. BECAUSE HES A WHAT NOW?! YOU SLEAZY MOTHERFUCKER! HOW DARE YOU CALL HIM THAT WORD (cuts to britin again) my dudes can we just stay here because that other guy fucking sucks. OH MY GOD HAS BRIAN BEEN PLANNING THIS SINCE THAT SHOUT OUT? Not them fucking on the posters, that is beyond hilarious..WHO THE HELL KEEPS KNOCKING AT HIS PLACE THIS LATE? Dude just ignore it, its probably mike or some shit. Keep fucking. *jaw hits the floor* OH MY FUCKING GOD. OH MY GOD. OH MY FUCKING- OH SHIT. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING. HE IT BOOTY DICK NAKED FUCKING THE INTERN ON FUCK YOU POSTERS. ICONIC.’ ‘Wait, so are we not gonna get Hunter pills for hiv? Oh wait Hunter might actually make me like Mike. Nice. I knew there was hope for him, maybe this is foreshadowing that he wont suck as a dad with that baby’ He is now on the edge of the couch watching Brian about to get fired ‘BRIAN IS STANDING UP FOR HIMSELF! THATS RIGHT HE WOULDNT UNDERSTAND! EXACTLY BRIAN! Oh damn that means i also don’t understand, whatever. GO BRIAN! I KNEW YOU HAD A SPINE!’ ‘Oh poor Emmett. Ted, i am so angry at you right now. Fuck you for hurting my baby boy! TED STOLE THE MONEY?! What the actual fucking hell is going on with him? Ted you are officially on my shit list. I feel bad for you but i am PISSED OFF!’

Your neighbor is going to be so grateful when QAF is over.

“One thing you can count on besides my undying love for Brian, is his love for messing with Justin’s hair.” TRUER WORDS HAVE NEVER BEEN SPOKEN

Brian’s death stare and squeezing his hand when Jen mentions prom. Good noticing brother! Brian is still fucked up over it (of course).

Who keeps showing up? One could ask why people in QAF show up at people’s doors instead of calling on the phone? Why QAF?

YES the line when Brian says Vance wouldn’t understand is so iconic. It feels so good for him to stand up for himself.

I think QAF takes place / was filmed before they automatically put people on HIV drugs. It used to be that they waited until T cells dropped below a certain number before starting meds because there was worry (I think) about developing resistance to the medication. Now we know that doesn’t happen which is why we have PrEP so they might not have started Hunter on meds right away.

Oh we are deep into Ted’s downfall. Ugh. It’s so painful to watch.

#ask winderlylandchime #dear sweet anon #queer as folk #a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023

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jeanearhart · 2 years ago

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Situation-Ship

Short story following the inner dialogue of a young man in his first (and last) gay relationship.

6086 words

JUNE

Love. We love to love. It’s inescapable, the media is polluted with love, our literature, every social event. First ten minutes at a party and your friend is asking, still seeing that girl? Turn on spotify, hit shuffle, you’ll hear a song about finding love followed by a song about losing it, wanting it, hating it.

We all have been through the ringer in love, love troubles are as common as spring allergies. Sneeze, they say bless you, break up they say I’m so sorry.

I’m a good looking guy, I’ve had plenty of girlfriends; theater girls, sporty girls, an emo chick who drew her eyeliner all the way to her hairline and pierced her own ears with a hot sewing needle.

I’ve had one boyfriend.

My one and only, I met him at a house show in Portland.

Ex-boyfriend, as of now.

Newly graduated from high school, I had no clue what my plans were for the next year. I could take a gap or enroll late, sure I’d be doomed to the nearest community college or trade school, I’d lead a mediocre life, marry an orange skinned blonde and have insufferably Kentuckian children. I’d had this delusion as a kid that I’d be famous when I was older, it lasted up until my sophomore year when despite my pretty face not a single casting audition I sent in received a callback. Sure, I was still in high school, my chances at success were higher if I auditioned as an adult with a real education in acting. It was a shame I wouldn’t be caught dead in drama school, surrounded by wannabes in desperate need of a shower, already so drenched in self-entitlement they miss the point of it.

The house was small, three rooms on the first floor, three on the second. The living room had been converted into a 10 by 10 concert hall, the only indicator of a stage being a thick red rope that separated the band from the mosh pit. As I made my way through the sweaty sea of stoned teenagers and drugstore James Hetfields, I asked myself again and again why I had decided to attend the show.

I hadn’t been since last summer when my ex, the emo chick, dragged me to some abandoned warehouse where the ‘Dickswatters’ abused instruments for three hours while a swarm of underaged kids took acid and mindlessly rammed into one another. I was no different than the others, in fact I got so shitfaced that when I stumbled upon said emo chick blowing a guy in the forest out back I said;

“Wow dude, your lay looks just like my girlfriend, that’s some insane shit,” In complete, honest awe and disbelief. It wasn’t until she pulled off and faced my way, still on her knees might I add, that I realized she was the real deal.

We broke up after that, but stayed friends. She was the only person in Louisville I didn’t find insufferable and her life was always interesting enough that I didn’t need to bother to have one of my own. She never saw it as an issue that I had no friends outside of her, if anything I think she liked it, all of my attention and focus was spent on her problems and her priorities. I was the guy best friend girl’s dream about, laid-back, non-judgmental, and completely uninterested in her sexually.

She was out of town the first few weeks of that summer, she had decided to celebrate her freedom from highschool with a trip to Italy. She took a few friends of hers, paying for all of their plane tickets and hotel rooms with her parent’s money. The first time I’d seen her parents' three-story estate I’d understood her completely. Rich and bored, pretty and neglected.

I think I missed her.

I recognized some of the punks at the show from her instagram posts and the last show I’d been to. They seemed nice enough and no doubt would have let me join them if I’d made an effort, however, I was intimidated by their crowns of hair and heavy jackets. I found a corner to press myself against in the kitchen. Unlike other parties the only way to get a drink at a show was to buy it, make friends, or bring it. I had forgotten this fact, expecting the usual array of intoxicants to be sitting out in the kitchen, perspiring in anticipation of my arrival. Painfully sober and visibly out of place, I kept stiff and pretended to scroll through my phone. Without any intoxicants in my system the music was intolerable, the kitchen was stuffy and hot, I doubted the house had a working ac, an accurate assumption given the trashy state of the kitchen I was standing in. This was where I met him, the beginning and the end of everything I ever believed about myself.

He owned the house.

“Hey, polo shirt,” His voice was just deep enough. I've always found high pitched voices grating, but bass tones were worse. They unsettle me, sound way too out of place. I’ve never seen a man I truly believe looked the part of a bass, so anytime I’ve met a man who’s Adam apple drops that low I’ve been petrified, effectively frozen in fear. I must have given him a stupid look, something torn between awe and fear because the man laughed and pointed at the fridge behind me. “I’m trying to get a drink,”

“Oh sorry,” I peeled away from my spot and stood awkwardly to the side as he opened the fridge and got a beer. He offered one to me as well, which I took, despite the fact I’d never really enjoyed the taste. Too bitter.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” He commented, not so much as making eye contact. It wasn’t an obvious thing, first he was looking at the fridge, then his drink, and now the crowd that filled his property. It made sense for him not to be looking at me, he had plenty of other things to look at. “I’m Caesar, the host.” He took a long gulp of his beer and I watched as his Adam's apple bobbed at the action. I still hadn’t moved back to my spot against the fridge, I was suspended in time, lagging. “And you are?”

I barely registered the words. “What?”

“And you are?” He repeated, this time with heat. “I’m asking you your fucking name,”

I tensed at the harsh words, still reeling from being approached at all when I’d been completely prepared to spend the whole night standing in the back of the venue with my arms crossed and my head dully nodding to the music. I was going to take some pictures, bathe in the online validation and praise, you’re so hot, then fall asleep to a cult classic so I was only half-lying when I would later tell smart girls I’d seen it.

“John,” I finally replied.

His laugh had a roughness to it, years of smoking tearing up his throat. “You’re kidding, your parents couldn’t think of anything better?”

“My dad’s a christian, I’m named after John the Baptist,”

“I didn’t ask,”

I opened my mouth to retort, pausing when I noticed the slight tilt to his lips. Oh, he was fucking with me. I was so caught up in my own head I forgot this was simply how these kinda men spoke to each other.

“At least I make good pizza,”

He made a face, took a sip of his beer, his Adam's apple bobbed. “What?”

“Get it, uh,” I shrugged, I still hadn’t drunk any of my own beer. I probably would be throwing away a full bottle at the end of the night. “Little Caesar’s Pizza, and Papa John’s, Papa John’s is better,”

Caesar snorted into his drink, averting his eyes from the crowd to peer at me from the corner of his eye. “Really?”

He pronounced his words so clearly that despite the clamor of yelling and cymbal crashing echoing around us I could understand every word he said perfectly. Either he’d won the genetic lottery, or he spent many years in speech therapy. Given his sharp eyes, height, and broad shoulders, I concluded it was the former.

“C’mon,” He motioned toward the living room with his drink and under the kitchen strobe lights his silver rings shone. A snake, a skull, and a die on one hand. A singular dark band on the other. I followed after him into the other room, let him slide an arm around my waist whilst we listened to the music, and protested only once as he dragged me into the mosh pit.

We saw each other often after that, every day of the next two weeks in fact. Caesar was a hurricane, assertive, intelligent, and impossibly stubborn. He insisted on doing everything himself, cooking, cleaning, fixing, paying. Caesar didn’t owe anyone anything, even the government.

“College is a scam,” He told me one day while we were sitting in his driveway, Caesar’s hands black with grease. He’d just changed the oil in his car, I watched his back muscles flex, sweaty and shiny in the glaring sun. His shoulders were freckled with acne that gathered at his chin, obscured mostly by the scruff he’d allowed to grow. “There are plenty of jobs that don’t require a college education, and anything really important you can just teach yourself, everything you’ll learn at an institution will be capitalist propaganda,”

“How do you make money?” I prodded. I used to admire Caesar’s ability to support himself without answering to anybody, but looking back it was actually quite pathetic. Constantly his wifi or power would be out, turned off due to unpaid fees.

“Renting out the house, fixing shit,” Caesar leaned back and tilted his head toward the sun. “It’s really easy, no one knows how much fixing a car should cost, they pay whatever you tell em’ to,”

“Awesome.”

Pathetic.

One of the best things about going out with Caesar was his cooking. He didn’t believe in following recipes, but knew how to make a damn good dish. I left his house early late one Thursday with a tupperware of fried tortellini smothered in marinara. I took it down to my dad’s apartment, a studio situated unbearably close to the train tracks. He couldn’t hear me knock over the wheels slamming into splintered tracks, long overdue for repair, so I took the extra key from his mailbox and let myself in. I’d be worried about someone robbing my father if there was anything to steal.

I found him lying, passed out on his bed, a single mattress on the floor, surrounded by Dorito crumbs and empty bourbon bottles.

“Dad, I brought food,” I sat at the end of the mattress and tapped his foot. He peeled open a crusty eye, looking over the pregnant bump of his beer belly.

“Ah, John, good boy John, it’s so good to see you,”

“Eat,” I nudged his foot again, prompting the man to sit up. He took the tupperware and peeled it open. "Caesar made it,"

"It looks good, is Caesar Italian?"

"No dad," I picked up his empty bottles of bourbon and took them to the kitchen. Vines of rusted cracks branched out beneath my feet, overhead a broken strobe light flickered. The cheap bulb gave everything in the kitchen a yellowish appearance, as if it were molded.

“Itailians are such wonderful cooks,” I could hear the food in his mouth as he spoke. I opened his pantry and tossed the bottles into his trash can, they sounded like wind chimes as they clinked against each other on the way down. “Where is her family from?”

“His,” I corrected. I closed the pantry door behind me and opened his fridge, it was mostly empty besides a few unlabeled takeout boxes and lines of beer cans. “Do you have any water?” I asked.

“Take from the tap, Louisville water is real clean, don’t gotta pay for overpriced plastic,”

The water from his tap always tasted like iron, and occasionally had a faint brown tint to it. “I’m alright,” I replied, leaving his kitchen empty handed. I came back to him already half-way finished with his pasta, he had smudges of marinara across his bulging cheeks that I assume he’d felt around his lips and attempted to wipe away. I studied the ombre lines of spotted red as I continued talking. “I don’t know where Caesar’s family is from, I haven’t asked,”

“Should soon, he could be illegal, you don’t want to be caught up with someone like that,”

I don’t think I would have cared if he was. “He’s not,”

“We have really good genetics you and I, blue eyes, strong enamel, don’t impregnate someone with bad genes, your kids will miss out,”

“He’s a man dad,”

My father’s face pinched. “A real one? Not one of those weird pussy boys you bring around,”

I wasn’t sure how to reply to that one. I wasn’t even sure who he was talking about.

“Your generation is doomed, boys are girls, girls or boys, back in my day we just called em dykes and moved on with it,” He shoveled more of the food into his mouth, little pieces spewing as he preached. “Nothing wrong with being a bull dyke, nothing wrong with dating one either, your mom looked a little like a bull dyke when I met her, real angry,”

I just nodded dully. He took that as a sign to keep talking.

“This boy have a penis?”

“Yes dad, he has a penis,”

“Do you take it up the ass?”

Years of similarly uncomfortable sexual questions had made me immune to the embarrassment of answering them. “We haven’t had sex,”

“But you want to,”

I considered it. Caesar was tall and broad, he had a nice face, nice hands. I’d never slept with a man before, but as far as relationships go we already did everything else associated. We went out to dinner, saw movies, we held hands, shared a bed, held each other while we slept. “I think I do,”

“I think you should, trying new things is good for you, teaches you things about yourself,” My dad finished the last of his tortellini and set the tupperware on the floor beside his mattress. “I’ve participated in sodomy with a woman, it was okay, no better than the usual penetration,”

“I don’t think I needed to know that,”

He laughed, raspy and wet. “You’re a grown man now, you can take it, you’re what, 19?”

“18,”

“18, I remember being 18, best years of my life,” I sat down on the end of his mattress and listened as my father began to recall the tales of his youth. He spent his later teen years working in a factory, he told me, a factory that belonged to the company he later became a higher up in. He told me that was where he met my mother, she was a receptionist, impossibly pretty with a strong attitude. She took her coffee black and didn’t tolerate any disrespect. He told me to stay away from women like that, that if I’m going to marry a woman, marry a real one.

As I walked back out to my car I stopped at the headlights and lifted my chin up to stare into the full moon. The moon has always looked fake to me, too round and picturesque. The lines of its craters are so vivid that as a child I had once tried to climb a ladder and grab it. At 18, I was still just as much of a child, silently I lifted my arm up into the air and hovered my hand over where I could see the moon. As I closed my hand I imagined it crushing and turning to dust between my fingers.

JULY - AUGUST

Caesar and I started hanging out less, he got a new job at some warehouse that had him on from six in the morning to eight in the afternoon every weekday. I still worked at the same grocery store I’d started working at freshman year. I felt a little emasculated when Caesar would talk about his job, lifting wooden panels, crates, and gas tanks seemed a lot manlier than checking out housewives in an apron. I didn’t know what it was about being with another man that made me so determined to reassure myself I was still one as well, maybe I’d spent too many years picturing gay men as skinny twinks in booty shorts and wearing glittering lip gloss. One day while in the bathroom at work I practiced saying gay slang in the mirror. When I cocked my hip and limped my wrist with the work apron on I did look like a real fag. It was a strange concept to comprehend. Did I want his dick up my ass? I didn’t think so, I’d never been interested in a thing like that before. Plenty of other guys seemed to like it, girls even.

I decided to text my ex about it. She told me to meet her at Barnes and Noble that weekend, I agreed.

The ex’s name was Singe, she stood at an unimpressive five feet four inches that she overcompensated for with obnoxious platforms and tall updos. Her hair was 'singed' at the ends, as she liked to say, fading from black at the roots into a crimson red at her ends. I found her perusing the psychology section, carefully looking over each book with narrowed eyes and a manicured finger.

“We don’t take well to shoplifters,” I said behind her, holding my voice an octave lower. She rolled her eyes and slid the book she’d been holding back into its spot on the shelf before turning to face me.

“Hey John, took you long enough,”

“Traffic,”

“I’m sure,” She motioned with her hand for me to follow, an array of beaded crystal bracelets sliding down her wrist at the action. “So you think you’re gay?” She inquired, non-accusatory. In Singe’s circles everyone was gay, genderqueer, polyamorous, it might as well have been a prerequisite to being punk. I knew she’d be the last person to judge me, but I still hesitated to answer, as if a camera crew were going to walk out from behind the bookshelves and expose me for my perverted attraction.

“I still like women, or at least I think I do, I liked having sex with you,”

“Did you? You never seemed as into it as I was,” She replied.

“I was into it, just, I don’t know,” I tapped my fingers against my pantleg. “Wasn’t as into as you in the ‘frequency’’ sense,”

“You’re the first guy I’ve known who was put off by a girl who wants to bone 24/7,”

“There’s other more interesting things to do,”

“Like what?” She led me into Barnes n’ Nobles adjourning Starbucks, sitting us down at a table by the window so we’d get to enjoy the beautiful view of an outlet mall parking lot.

“Movies,”

“Movies are boring, why would I care about fictional lives when I could be living my own?”

I frowned. “There’s a lot more to them than that,”

“For you, I actually get out of house and live my life,”

She had a point.

“So you’re what, bisexual?” She followed up.

“I guess,”

She tapped her long nails against the tabletop, considering. “Who’s the guy?”

“Caesar,”

“The guy who owns the PotStop?”

I didn’t know it had a name. “Yeah, him,”

“He’s really standoffish,” Singe commented. “I don’t see him actually talk to people much. Do you know who he normally hangs out with? Everyone I know knows him but no one I know hangs out with him. Have you met any of his friends?”

“Not yet, why’s it matter?”

She gave me a look, a deadpan ‘are you serious’? “Number one red flag is no friends, either they’re a narcissist too obsessed with themselves to put time into other people or they’re such a dick no one wants to be around them,”

I opted to ignore the implications that had on myself, seeing as my own personal circle consisted only of Singe, my dad, and now Caesar.

“Have you ever done anal?” I asked her.

“A few times, why?”

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s okay, I wouldn’t say it’s my favorite but I enjoyed it,”

“Do you think I’d enjoy it?”

She laughed. “I can’t tell you whether or not you’d enjoy it John, you have to figure that out for yourself,”

“I don’t want to do it if I’m not going to like it,”

“So don’t do it,” Signe clapped her hands together. “Problem solved,”

I didn’t end up doing it, not anal at least. Caesar and I rarely got each other off and when we did it was strictly hand stuff. He thought doing anything else would make it weird, too gay. I should have realized early on that a guy who doesn’t want to be ‘too gay’ is not a guy you should be in a gay relationship with. For the first time in my life I worried that I was unattractive. Even if I wasn’t super interested in having sex with Caesar, it felt weird that he wasn’t at all interested in doing it with me. I wished at times I was more feminine looking, another first, I thought eventually he’d meet a girl he wanted to penetrate and either cheat or leave. I couldn’t stand the thought that Caesar would leave me.

We only dated three months.

I think back on those three months quite often and I find myself standing in front of two Caesars; the man I fell in love with and the man I dated. The man I fell in love with knew me and understood me in ways no one ever had before, and in ways no one ever would again. He saw through every lie I told, every fake smile and charade. This Caesar loved the parts of me only he saw and took no offense to the many idiosyncrasies I have that were exposed during our while short lived, intimate relationship. This Caesar is deep and intelligent, with good intuition and a drive to be better, do better, that I could respect.

This Caesar, funny enough, didn't exist, and would never exist. Even if one day he grew out of all of his immature habits and actually tried to make something of himself, maybe went to therapy and self-reflected on the way he treated me, the man I dated would never be the man I fell in love with.

The man I dated left me stoned and strung out downtown Louisville with no car and no wallet to hook up with a chick because I, just as I had dreaded, was not fulfilling his needs. His very real, manly needs to get off inside of something. I will admit, he was not completely to blame, he asked for my permission to swing and I, ever eager to please, had said 'batter up'! I had hardly expected him to find a girl that same night, nor did I expect him to abandon me for her on the dirty concrete of the city sidewalk. Too many drinks and a 10mg edible in, I could barely walk. Luckily enough, my tall frame and the bulge in my jeans saved me from being kidnapped or date raped. No, the worst outcome of the night was a thirty dollar bullet to my bank account. Initially the uber was only twenty, but I left a ten dollar tip after he'd been so kind as to even walk my crossfaded ass up to my apartment door.

I fell asleep as soon as I hit my bed, the cheap mattress I’d thrifted had never felt firmer, my decade old sheets softer. I almost didn’t want to get out of bed the next morning, if the source of my tribulations hadn’t let himself inside I would’ve stayed buried in those soft sheets all day.

“Rise and shine beautiful, I brought a hangover cure,” Caesar placed a strange drink concoction on my kitchen island, along with a tupperware of breakfast food.

“You make that or her?” I asked him, my voice was raspy from drunk singing and it added an extra edge to the sharp tone of my inquiry.

“I did,” He opened the tupperware and grabbed a fork from my cabinets. “I didn’t spend the night at her place, just hit it and went home, I hope you like meat in your scrambled eggs,”

“Meat?”

“Chicken,”

“Normally people use pork,”

“I’m not a normal person,” Caesar came around to the side of my bed and nudged my shoulder with the tupperware. “Eat,”

I felt sick to my bones. It’s a much different feeling than feeling sick to your stomach, you feel it through your whole body. It’s a cold feeling, on the edge of nausea, it makes you tense and void. Not sad, not angry, not jealous, sick.

I sat up and took the food from Caesar, it smelled delicious. I wasn’t sure if I could stomach it.

“How was it?” I prodded. He shrugged.

“Okay, sex is sex,”

Sex is sex.

The eggs looked like clay, mushy, impenetrable. I grit my teeth.

Sex is sex.

“I’m not hungry,” I gave the tupperware back to Caesar, who leveled me with an odd look. “Too hungover?”

“Yeah, sorry, thank you for the thought,”

“Of course,”

I thought about that for days. Sex is sex. I’d had sex very few times in my life, strangely enough. You’d think, wow John you’ve dated so many girls, and you’re so hot, you’ve probably done it a million times, but I haven’t. The very few times I did have sex it was awkward and weird, I hardly enjoyed it. Hand stuff with Caesar was good, really good, I genuinely enjoyed it and it made me feel connected to him. It was like him and I were in on this secret, we knew each other's bodies in ways others didn't.

Sex is sex. I began to question if he saw our hand stuff the same way. I began to question if he saw any of our relationship the same way. Was I so delusional as to believe this man and I had this insane, unfathomable bond, unlike anything I've ever felt before, when in reality I was nothing more than an experiment? Not even that, if I was an experiment I'd know, he'd be more curious, want to try more things, no Caesar enjoyed my company, he liked my personality.

He liked me.

I'll never know if he loved me. I loved him, I know that much. I was obsessed with him, the way he wore his hair, the rings on his fingers, the shark tooth necklace that hung over face when we roughhoused and the forgotten skateboard in his garage. I loved his tenacity and when he'd act stubborn, scrunching his face to convey his silent protest. I loved his sharp eyes and soft cheeks, I loved his worn out Doc Martens and his wall of stolen street signs. I loved Caesar. I loved him so much that when he looked at me, really looked at me, I felt like I couldn't breathe.

I was sure during the time we were together that he was my endgame. That we had some connection no one else could understand, that my allowance of his misdeeds was a test of my love for him. I realize now that kind of thinking is idiotic. Real life isn’t a romcom, there is no fate, no destiny. Caesar and I weren’t meant to be, we weren’t soulmates, we were two losers without friends who just happened to be at the same place at the same time.

I’ve never been a good sleeper. It doesn’t help that my dad likes to stay up most nights watching conspiracy theory documentaries and listening to ‘underground’ podcasts. I could hear them from my room, the apartment walls thin enough that even the heavy breathing of dad’s neckbearded idols reached my ears as I searched desperately for sleep.

I started calling Caesar anytime I couldn’t sleep, and soon enough every night ended with the two of us deep in conversation over the glitchy speakers of our androids.

“Would you step on a bird to put it out of its misery?” Caesar asked me one night during an exceedingly more abstruse game of 21 questions.

“No,” I replied. “I couldn’t,”

“I could,”

“I’m not surprised,”

He laughed. “The bird is better off dead than suffering,”

“Did you ask me this just to sound edgy,”

“No no,” Caesar sounded earnest. “I wanted to know your thoughts, why wouldn’t you?”

“I’d feel bad,”

“You should feel worse about letting it suffer, if you really felt bad you’d kill it,”

I shifted uncomfortably in my bed. It wasn’t my fault that the bird was suffering, but it would be my fault the bird was dead if I killed it. There was no certainty that the bird would suffer forever unless I killed it. Why was the first option to step on it rather than to rescue it? In all honesty, the apartment might benefit from having something bright and energetic like a bird. I thought to myself that if the next morning I found a bird with a broken wing or legs that couldn’t care for itself, I wouldn’t step on it, I’d take care of it.

“If you had a pet bird what would you name it Caesar?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never wanted a pet bird,”

“But if you did,”

“Bladee,”

“Like the artist?”

“Yes,”

Naturally. “You’re obnoxious,”

“I’d be boring if I wasn’t,” I rotated onto my side so my hand rested in the palm of my hand and I faced the side of my phone. “Would you rather I named it something like Tweety?”

“No,” I said through a yawn. “But maybe something like Carl,”

“Carl?”

“Or Steve, Miles-”

“John,”

“Yes?”

“A name like John,” Caesar reiterated. “What’s with you and lameass names?”

I didn’t respond to that comment, it was true, I had a lame name. It wasn’t my fault, I didn’t pick it.

“Have you ever considered renaming yourself?” Caesar continued to dig. “Like Singe did,”

“I’m not alternative like Singe is,” I flipped back onto my back. “I don’t see the point, John fits me,”

Caesar grunted in agreement, then began on a tangent about the latest homicide he’d heard about in the news. He echoed the same sentiments I’d heard from other proud anti-fascists our age, not spouting a drop of his own thought out opinion. The line of reasoning he followed wasn’t wrong, it wasn’t stupid, just vague and overused, empty showy protest against a system he didn’t understand but pretended to know better than. I suppose his name fits him as well, if taken ironically. He was the personification of misquoted Caesar, a buzzword finding itself quite often in the wrong place; a politician's shitty speech, a school wall, a teenagers social media bio.

SEPTEMBER

I’ve recently started college, my major is still undecided but for my electives I’m taking Introduction to Film Studies and Spanish.

I enjoy Film Studies, it's easy. You don't have to learn how to feel, just the words to describe it.

The scene before you is dark, a single light flickers, the pole it stands upon is rusted. Beneath the actors feet the ground is moist from the morning's rain and one man awkwardly regards his partner's back pressed against the alley's brick wall with hesitation.

He can feel the ghost of wet brick on his back.

In class he'd describe these details as ominous, foreboding, and dreadful.

The man against the wall lifts his head and laughs, his voice is smoother than is normal; he is drunk.

"I don't like when you drink," Now that the man has spoken it becomes aware to the viewer that he's not a man, no not nearly, he's just a boy.

An eighteen year old boy.

"You're seriously no fun," Caesar mocks. "Weren't you just drinking with me? Fucking hypocrite,"

I looked anywhere but at him. The night was alive, the beating blood of Louisville's punk scene pumping around us, but never touching. "I had one shot, you've had six,"

He didn't digest my comment well, looking as though he might puke up five months worth of built up grievances onto my adidas. "So judgy," He settled on.

"I'm calling us an uber,"

"You're not,"

I didn't reply.

"You know what your problem is?" He lifted his head up, hair askew. "You think you're so much better than everyone else, you're so caught up in your own head you've convinced yourself that you're the only person that matters,"

I struggled to push my phone up and out of the pocket of my skinny jeans. I couldn't be sure if my hands were shaking, not when the light barely reached them.

"Do you even feel anything?"

"Of course I feel things," I pressed hard against the outline of my phone. The corner was caught on my pocket seam.

"You never show it," Caesar shook his head, hair beads rattling against one another. They were new, silver to match his rings.

A skull.

A snake.

A die.

All rusted on the inside.

I finally got my phone out of my pocket and it was heavy. A lead weight in my hand. Beneath the street light shone a glare on the screen that made it difficult to find my uber app.

"Do you love me John?"

I ignored him. Requested two stops.

"Do you love anyone?"

"Would you stop."

Caesar laughed. "Predictable,"

I grit my teeth. "What, what's predictable?"

"You," He pushed away from the wall so that he towered over me. "You're just like every other entitled, emotionally constipated, middle class white boy, it upsets you that I actually want us to feel something,"

"Want us," I echoed.

"Us, I want to feel something together, collectively, connected," He took my free hand, interlocking our fingers. "Don't you want that too?"

"Our uber will be here any minute now," I pulled my hand away from his and stepped back. His dark eyes remained trained on mine, locked into my irises.

"I can see why everyone leaves you, John," I stifled. "You never gave them a place to stay to begin with,"

In a movie scene you can see the ground is wet but you can't feel that the air is humid. You can infer from the blue hues and the main character's shivers that it was cold, but you'll not always be right. There was no shiver, just a violent twitch, as though someone hooked up spark plugs around my big toes. Caesar's pretentiousness was painful, and his snobby, accusatory attitude extremely off-putting. I hated dramatic assholes who pretend they can see right through you, that they understand the world in ways you're incapable.

I put him in the uber when it came and ordered a separate one for myself, let the driver know the second stop was unneeded, but could keep whatever pay they gave him for it.

My ride took me to my dad's, where I didn't bother to peel off my wet shoes, instead just stumbled into his bedroom and sat on the edge of that stained, crusted, rickety old mattress. I crumpled like a paper wad, head in my hands and joints stiff. I stayed there until the sun came up and my father's alarm rang.

He slid his glasses onto his face with sweaty, wrinkled hands, almost dropping them as they journeyed from the bedside table to his bed.

"John," He coughed out. "What are you doing here,"

"I'm breaking up with Caesar,"

"Who?"

"Caesar," I repeated. "The real boy,"

"Ah," My father slapped his lips together, kissing away his morning mouth gunk. "Never quite liked the kid anyways, give it just a few years and they'll have him locked up for one thing or another."

"Yeah," I kept my head in my hands, embarrassed that my dad might see the puddles that had begun to form in my palms if I dropped them. "He wasn't really my type anyways."

#short story #angst #queer #mlm #punk #writing

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