#Too Hot For MTV

[leechhealer]

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

The Cranberries - Zombie 1994

"Zombie" is a protest song by Irish alternative rockband the Cranberries. It was written by the lead singer, Dolores O'Riordan, about the young victims of a bombing in Warrington, England, during the Troubles in Northern Ireland. The song was released on 19 September 1994 as the lead single from the Cranberries' second studio album, No Need to Argue. While the record label feared releasing a too controversial and politically charged song as a single, "Zombie" reached number 1 on the charts of Australia, Belgium, Denmark, Germany, and Iceland, and spent nine consecutive weeks at number 1 on the French SNEP Top 100. It reached number 2 on the Ö3 Austria Top 40, where it stayed for eight weeks. The song did not chart on the US Billboard Hot 100 chart as it wasn't released as a single there, but it reached number 1 on the US Billboard Alternative Airplay chart. Listeners of the Australian radio station Triple J voted it number 1 on the 1994 Triple J Hottest 100 chart, and it won the Best Song Award at the 1995 MTV Europe Music Awards.

The Troubles were a conflict in Northern Ireland from the late 1960s to 1998. The Provisional Irish Republican Army (IRA), an Irish republican paramilitary organisation, waged an armed campaign to end British rule in Northern Ireland and unite the region with the Republic of Ireland. Republican and Unionist paramilitaries killed more than 3,500 people, many from thousands of bomb attacks. One of the bombings happened on 30 March 1993, as two IRA improvised explosive devices hidden in litter bins were detonated in a shopping street in Warrington, England. Two people; Johnathan Ball, aged 3, and Tim Parry, aged 12, were killed in the attack. 56 people were injured. Ball died at the scene of the bombing as a result of his shrapnel-inflicted injuries, and five days later, Parry lost his life in a hospital as a result of head injuries. O'Riordan decided to write a song that reflected upon the event and the children's deaths after visiting the town: "We were on a tour bus and I was near the location where it happened, so it really struck me hard – I remember being devastated about the innocent children being pulled into that kind of thing. So I suppose that's why I was saying, 'It's not me' – that even though I'm Irish it wasn't me, I didn't do it. Because being Irish, it was quite hard, especially in the UK when there was so much tension." The song was re-popularised in 2023 after it was played after Ireland games at the 2023 Rugby World Cup. It was picked up by fans of the Irish team, with videos of fans singing the song in chorus accumulating hundreds of thousands of views on social media. This offended other Irishmen, who identified it as an "anti-IRA" anthem, and said that that the lyrics failed to consider their experience during the Troubles.

The music video, directed by Samuel Bayer, was filmed in Belfast, Northern Ireland, in the heart of the Troubles with real footage, and in Dublin. To record video footage of murals, children and British Army soldiers on patrol, he had a false pretext, with a cover story about making a documentary about the peace-keeping efforts in Ireland. Bayer stated that a shot in the video where an SA80 rifle is pointed directly at the camera is a suspicious British soldier asking him to leave, and that the IRA were keeping a close look at the shoot, given "the British Army come in with fake film crews, getting people on camera.” While "Zombie" received heavy rotation on MTV Europe and was A-listed on Germany's VIVA, the music video was banned by the BBC because of its "violent images", and by the RTÉ, Ireland's national broadcaster. Instead, both the BBC and the RTÉ opted to broadcast an edited version focusing on footage of the band in a live performance, a version that the Cranberries essentially disowned. Despite their efforts to maintain the original video "out of view from the public", some of the initial footage prevailed, with scenes of children holding guns. In March 2003, on the eve of the outbreak of the Iraq War, the British Government and the Independent Television Commission issued a statement saying ITC's Programme Code would temporarily remove from broadcast songs and music videos featuring "sensitive material", including "Zombie". Numerous media groups complied with the decision to avoid "offending public feeling", along with MTV Europe. Since it violated the ITC guidelines, "Zombie" was placed on a blacklist of songs, targeting its official music video. The censorship was lifted once the war had ended. In April 2020, it became the first song by an Irish group to surpass one billion views on Youtube.

"Zombie" received a total of 91% yes votes!

[keepthedelta]

thinking about the rosberg family and how a kardashian or dts style documentary about them would be amazing.

you have keke rosberg, a hard racing cigar smoking legend of motorsport from one of it's most dangerous eras, whose name literally means pixie rose mountain. the man who basically invented formula one in finland but was hated by his own media for being too cosmopolitan and when they tried to recognise his achievements refused to let them put his face on a postage stamp because he wouldn't make money off of it. studied to be a dentist but missed the entrance exam and became a racing driver instead. got out of having to take german in school by persuading the master that he would never need it but as soon as he met a hot older german woman went so insane over her that he proposed just months after meeting her and agreed to make it their primary language at home. set a record for the fastest lap in f1 history that lasted until 2004, won his first f1 race and then won a world championship before he won his second. known as a crazy racer who would go through you if you didn't let him past. also the softest dad who loves his baby boy more than anything else.

then there's sina, the coolest person in the rosberg family. was so hot and smart and talented that a man willingly sacrificed his cultural identity to be her husband. professional interpreter who knows a bunch of languages and taught them to her polyglot son. married a f1 world champion but hated his driving so much that she drove herself everywhere, even to events that she attended with him. showed up finland's independence day ball in a suit and bow tie against all dress customs. planned to give birth on her own because it's basically the same thing as going to the dentist, and she doesn't need a man for that. has an f1 champion husband and son and still banned f1 talk in her house for nico's entire career. got so nervous watching her baby race that she vacuumed the entire apartment each time. ditched her husband in dubai so that she could make it to the track to see nico become world champion in person. got drunk and talked about keke's sperm on live television.

nico rosberg, the saddest wettest kitten who ever lived. the most beloved baby in the world. cried at everything as a child. cried when he lost at tennis and when he won. uber competitive. incredibly athletic, competing internationally in karting and tennis. total nerd who had no trouble with his schoolwork despite missing school constantly and got accepted into imperial college london to study engineering. at the time the youngest person to ever drive an f1 car. the biggest single cause of sexuality crises in motorsport since 2006. was once sponsored by the german version of mtv. nicknamed after a teen pop sensation. met the love of his life when he was four and hit her over the head with a bucket while they were making sandcastles. had an incredibly difficult incredibly public divorce from a man he was never legally married to. dropped the mic said thank u, next and is so so happy in his retirement. has stripped down to his underwear on television and done a river clean up in designer coats. boy mom to an orange cat, girl dad to human children. loves his daughters more than anything, the kind of man who will leave a 2 million dollar car on a hill to hitchhike, with his videographer, to his daughters's christmas party. can pinpoint the amount of time lost in a corner exactly and needs everyone to know about it. deeply annoying, absolutely hilarious, incredibly kind.

and of course, vivian. ceo of the rosberg family. still planning the long game revenge on nico for hitting her with a bucket when they were children, born in germany, studied design in milan, can party harder than f1 drivers. has done the interior design for private jets, because apparently that's a thing. owner, creator and namesake of the best rated ice cream shop in the balearics. makes her daughters matching outfits for a taylor swift concert and publicly teases her husband for not being a fan. stages elaborate christmas photos with a different colour theme every year. wore a white dress with turquoise louboutins and chanel bag to match nico's race suit in one of the most iconic and yet deeply underappreciated wag moments in f1 history. ruined them with champagne but didn't care. wants her children to be happy. definitely pegs her husband.

most interesting motorsport family of all time. forget dts, i just want to know about them

[sirenhub]

Saw you were taking requests and decided to drop on in! I’ve been really trying to push the “Leon loves goths” agenda and just wanted to see if you had an ideas for cute rookie!Leon having the hots for a goth. You can make it as sfw or nsfw as you want. I just can’t stop thinking about smothering him in black lipstick kiss marks ahh.

ROOKIE! LEON KENNEDY & GOTH CHICK

∿ warn . nsfw under cut, riding, tit sucking, leon calls you mommy!

this is a drabble! so the quality isn’t very good :(( vaguely proof read too so WAAA BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY! 3k words :33 when i tell you i CHEERED when i saw this in my inbox, i’m being so fr! i’m a proud goth so seeing the goth chick agenda being spread.. UGH! the dream don’t play. goth girl x leon is so real.. WRITING RULES | PINNED

when leon first saw you, he couldn’t look away. he really did try to tear away his gaze from you, but he physically couldn’t help but ogle at your outfit and overall disposition. he’s never seen someone with that sense of style you had outside of media — he vaguely knows what goths are, he’s seen goths displayed in movies and shows, like nancy downs in the craft, or late at night when mtv played the cure.

it was surprising to see you in raccoon city, with clothing that made it seem like you had just stepped out of a funeral and heavy eyeliner that made you resemble the dead.

in a midwestern small town, you don’t often see people with alternative fashion, and seeing you in full gothic attire was like finding a needle in a haystack.

it was almost funny how mundane setting was, leon had just stepped inside the local coffee shop near the police station to grab some coffee before his shift, and here you were, tucked away in the corner of the shop idly reading a book. he would’ve expected to see you at the local hot topic or the morgue, but no, you were just.. reading.

your nose was stuck inside a stephen king novel, carrie, leon thinks — he couldn’t make out the cover words as he stood by the cashier counter.

you were listening to music too, leon saw the cassette resting on the table and the headphones that covered your ears, he wondered what were you listening to. the cure? honestly, that’s the only gothic band he knows, he mainly focuses on listening to grunge, maybe the NSYNC when he needs a change of pace. would you hate that? frown down at him because he likes the occasional boy band? he hopes not.

leon was snapped out of his thoughts when the barista called out to him, “sir, can i help you?” she asked sweetly, tensing in surprise, leon looked back at the woman and cleared his throat. “oh, uh, yeah!” he said quickly.

after giving the barista his order, he paused, glancing back at you. you still read, blissfully unaware of his glances, “hey, does she come here often?” leon whispered as he turned to face the barista, subtly gesturing over to you. the barista raised her eyebrow as she looked over leon’s shoulders to you. “occasionally, but only at night.. some of my workers are convinced she’s like a vampire or something.” the woman laughed, mocking you as she looked back at leon. “what? is she scaring you, officer?” she teased, a small grin coming up to her lips.

leon shook his head, “no, no—“ he paused, “..what did she order?” he asked, realizing how stupid he might look.

the barista’s grin faltered, not expecting that response.

“uh.. vanilla coffee, why?” she questioned.

“can i add that to my order?” leon asked, he wanted to talk to you, and he wanted to seem as natural as possible to not seem like some creep.

the barista paused as she glanced back at you, “oh, yeah! yeah, of course, is that all?” she asked as she took her notepad out again. leon nodded his head, raising his hand to scratch the back of his neck, “uh..yeah, ma’am, thank you.” he said quietly, nodding his head at her once more to show his gratitude before he took out his wallet.

after paying, leon stood by the counter, stealing glances over at you. once the coffees were ready, leon perked up and took them, walking over to your table.

once he reached your table, leon cleared his throat, holding the two steaming cups of coffee as he thought about what to say.

“excuse me?” he called out, hoping to get your attention from the book without having to stand there awkwardly. he had one mission tonight: to get your number.

while you read, you noticed how a figure had come up to you by your peripheral vision. taking your attention away from your reading, you looked up to see who was bothering you. you weren’t expecting to lock eyes with a police officer, it was the last thing you expected. tensing, you were startled, why was there a police man looking down at you? you hadn’t been a disturbance to the shop.

furrowing your eyebrows, you put your book down and took off your headphones before pausing your cassette.

“can i help you?” you asked, distaste clear in your features.

leon just stared, baby blue eyes taking in how pretty your makeup was. it wasn’t full traditional gothic glam, yet the detail in your eyeliner and perfectly coated black lipstick was impressive. leon bit the inside of his cheek before he took in a deep breath and shifted, “uh,” what was he supposed to say? “sorry, i was watching you earlier—“ horrible start, leon! “— and i just think you’re pretty, i like your..makeup and clothes.” he stammered. god, get it together, kennedy!

you paused, the tension in your shoulders releasing, that’s not what you expected at all.

as someone with alternative fashion, you’ve had your fair share of problems with people of authority. the world seems to love assuming that you’re satanic and plan to burn down churches, you’re nothing more than a girl that enjoys indulging in gothic media. from songs, to books, to movies, and make up. it’s just who you are.

nonetheless, having a cop, out of all people, compliment you was endearing.

you eyed the chubby cheeked cop, noticing the two cups of coffee in his hands. he was cute, with those bright blue eyes and preppy look, “aw, thanks.” you began, a small smile curling on your lips.

“what are the two coffees for?” you mused, your eyebrows raising in interest as you looked at the cups.

leon pursed his lips and glanced away, damn, why was he was acting bashful? looking back at you quickly, he let out a breathless chuckle, “i got one for you,” he said, offering you the cup. “thought it could help break the ice.”

you reached out and took the cup off his hands, a small laugh leaving your lips, this guy was charming.

“it’s working,” you mused before putting the carton cup to your lips, you took a small sip, a hum of delight leaving your lips as the warm liquid touched your tongue. vanilla, your favorite. “how did you know i liked vanilla?” you questioned.

leon shifted, “lucky guess?” he said, deciding not to mention he asked the cashier.

squinting, you nodded before putting the cup down. “so.. what do you want officer?” you asked, wanting to know the motive behind his actions, leon moved his hand up to scratch behind his neck. “i was hoping to get your number?” he said, looking at you like a hopeful puppy.

“you want my number?”

“yeah, i wanna get to know you better.”

a small smirk curled on your lips, “alright, officer.” you said, reaching into your bag, you slipped out a pen before reached for the table napkins.

leon watched intently, you swore his eyes seemed to be sparkling.

“i don’t know your name.” you pointed out while scribbling your number down onto the napkin, leon straightened up, “oh, right.. leon kennedy.” he introduced himself, glancing over at his digital watch. leon mentally winced as he realized he was already late to work.

nodding, you finished writing your number before standing up. “alright, leon, i’ll wait for your call.” you hummed, glancing at him with a small smirk before grabbing your bag and coffee. handing him the napkin, you walked away, leaving him staring at you like a lost puppy.

you were so pretty and confident, an air of mystery followed you that made leon want more.

taking the napkin in his hand, he read it.

xxx-xxx-xxxx — call me ;)

just then he realized, he didn’t know your name.

your room was chilly, closer by nine inch nails playing in the background, the song was muffled and quiet, leon’s focus was completely on you.

his lips were pressed against yours, making out with you sloppily, a moan slipped past his lips as the two of you kissed. his hands were wrapped around your body while you straddled his lap. leon’s body was hot, you were taking the lead with this and he didn’t mind — your body pressed against his while your arms were wrapped around his neck.

the kiss was eager and messy, leon’s hands resting against your back as they clutched the back of your lacy black bra, shaky hands trying to work on taking off your bra.

once oxygen began to come between the two of you, you pulled back with a gasp, a string of saliva connecting your lips before you pulled back, your hands moving to cup his face as you looked down at him. panting, leon’s eyes locked with yours, your black lipstick smeared, coating his bruised lips.

a small smile curled on your lips before you aided him with unclasping your bra, quickly tossing it to the side, your tits perking in full display. “like ‘em?” you hummed, moving your hands to cup your breasts and push them up, leon’s eyes widened when he noticed two barbells adorning your perky nipples — your nipples were pierced and his cock was aching.

nodding like an idiot, leon shuddered, “y-yeah.” he confirmed, his hands moving to cup your breasts, greedy hands squeezing the mounds of fat, watching as the fat poked through the gaps between his fingers. he groped them like a hormonal teenage boy that’s never had a face full of tits before.

“they’re soft..” leon mumbled, squeezing and fondling.

letting out a huffing laugh, you plucked his greedy hands away from your perky tits and reached down to his pants, his denim jeans pressing tightly against his clothed cock.

shuddering, leon glanced down with wide eyes as your smaller hands palmed his cock.

a soft moan left leon’s lips, his hips twitching upward against your touch, eager for more. you moved your hand up to the zipper of his pants and expertly undid the button and zipper, leon wondered how many people you’ve been with before him. your movements were eager and precise, you had experience — it made leon’s heart tumble as he realized he didn’t match your level, yet a blossoming excitement filled his tummy.

you were going to make him putty in your hands and he was excited.

hooking your fingers on the elastic band of his pants and underwear, you tugged down the fabrics, a shaky gasp leaving leon’s lips as he felt his cock spring up from the restraints.

his throbbing cock stood proudly, the tip sticky with pre-cum while the tip blushed a rosy color.

your hand wrapped around his cock, giving him slow pumps before your gaze locked with his, “you have a pretty dick,” you mumbled, your lips curling up in a playful smile.

leon trembled, his hands moving back to clutch the black comforter of your bed. leon’s cheeks burned red as he looked down at your hand as you stroked his cock. looking up at you, he shuddered, “b-baby,“ he mumbled, “m’need you.” leon babbled.

“yeah, baby?” you mused, slipping your hand away from his cock to nestle yourself properly on his lap.

“you need me?” you repeated.

leon nodded his head, baby blue eyes lidded as he stared at you.

“s’much, please.”

you bit your bottom lip and hummed, moving to grasp his cock again before moving your hand down to your panties and pushing the fabric aside, quickly adjusting yourself above his aching cock, you lowered yourself, his tip kissing your folds.

leon was a pretty sight, he already looked fucked out and you haven’t even put his cock in, there was something about your boyfriend looking so shaky and needy under your touch that made your cunt throb. your pussy was wet and sticky, eager to feel him around your warm walls.

leon’s hands moved to your hips, his large hands squeezing the fat of your hips eagerly.

“c’mon, please, baby— please.” he pleaded, trying to roll his hips up to try and slip his cock inside your pussy.

“aw,” you smirked, tilting your head to the side, “relax, i’ve got you.” you teased, babying him.

in one swift movement, you slipped down onto his cock, a small moan of relief leaving your lips as your cunt sucked leon’s shaft eagerly. you’ve a handful of dicks inside you before, so it wasn’t uncomfortable, but leon’s body trembled.

feeling your warm walls hug his girth snugly made leon see stars.

he threw his head back as a choked moan left his lips, his eyes shutting tightly as he got accustomed to the feeling. holy shit.

panting, he squeezed your hips tightly, leaving crescent shaped marks on your skin as he dug his nails into your flesh.

“f-fuck—“ leon stammered, his eyes fluttering open and meeting your gaze. his breathing was shaky and you haven’t even moved yet — he really didn’t have much experience. leon has fucked before, he slept with his ex-girlfriend every now and then but her libido was low and leon was hormonal, the most solace he got was a hefty amount of lotion and his fist, but this? this was fucking brain altering.

slowly, you began to roll your hips again his, a soft breath leaving your lips as you felt his girthy cock push against your walls, savoring the feeling.

letting your hands rest against leon’s chest, you dug your black manicured nails against his pale skin. leon wasn’t shy about his pleasure, the moans leaving his lips were needy, whiny, and loud.

“like that?” you moaned, glancing down at him as your hips bounced against his, his cock slipping in and out of your pretty pussy, the tip pressing flush against your cervix, giving it kisses with each roll of your hips.

“y-yes,“ he gasped.

each roll of your hips felt like a surge of electricity slipping through leon’s veins, “s’good—“ he slurred, clenching his jaw as he let out a heavy breath. his grip on your hips remained tight and firm, his hips rolling up against your own, desperately trying to match your pace, but it was sloppy.

you let out a soft sigh, moving up to cup his face in your hands, leon’s gaze moved up to your face, big blue puppy dog eyes meeting yours.

smirking, you moved your chest to his face, moving his head against your plush tits.

getting the message, leon eagerly popped one of your pierced nipples into his mouth, his warm tongue pressing and flicking your bud like a baby. he moved his hands up to your waist, holding you close while he suckled eagerly.

shuddering, you let out a moan as leon sucked on your tits.

continuing to bounce on his fat cock, leon was seeing stars. being able to suck on your fat tits while your cunt actively sucked his cock back inside was making his brain fuzzy while a tight coil began to form inside his tummy.

he moaned against your skin, his balls beginning to tighten while his cock throbbed.

“gonna cum, m’gonna cum, mommy—“ he moaned, his cheek pressed against your tit while his saliva coated his skin.

he was too pussydrunk to realize he called you that, but you heard him. your eyebrows raised in surprise, “mommy?” you mused, a small smirk curling in your lips, “gonna cum for mommy?” you teased, moving your hand to the back of his head, your finger tangling between the locks of his hair. you pulled on his hair, pushing him away from your tits to look into his eyes.

leon nodded eagerly, his hips rolling against your hips.

“yes, mommy.” he gasped.

a small laugh left your lips before you let of of his hair and continued to bounce on his cock, “go ahead then, cum for mommy.” you babied, pressing your lips against his forehead, your black lipstick staining his skin.

leon moaned, his eyes rolling back as his lips parted, his lips were glossy with his saliva as his hands moved down to your hips. he gripped your body tightly as he began to maneuver you, guiding your hips against his as he fucked his hips upward.

his movements were sloppy, leon’s brain zeroing in on chasing his high.

the coil in his tummy began to tighten, he was desperate, forcing you up and down his cock like you were nothing but a pocket pussy.

you were surprised by the sudden change of pace, sometimes you forget that leon is much stronger than he seems. gasping, you felt your cunt get fucked with each thrust upward, your tits bouncing at the force while the sound of your pussy squelching around his cock got louder.

whimpering, leon bit his bottom lip harshly, he was right at his peak, and with one final thrust, he pulled you down onto his cock before his cum spurted out.

his tip nuzzled right against your battered cervix, his cum filling your pretty pussy up. thick, sticky, and milky.

leon’s back arched, his toes curling while his body trembled. he gasped and panted, a deep groan leaving his lips. he hasn’t cum that hard in forever, actually— he doesn’t think he’s ever cum that hard, his head was swirling while his body shook with the aftershock of his climax.

you let out a small moan when leon slammed you down onto his cock, your breathing steadying as he filled your cunt up with his cum.

after a few seconds, you felt leon’s cock slowly getting soft inside you, but you didn’t make any attempts to move. “leon?” you mused, feeling leon nuzzle against your chest again.

“yeah?”

you hummed, slowly moving to roll your hips against his again, his body immediately tensing as his sensitive cock got rubbed against. he squeezed you and gasped out a choked breath, wanting to stop you, needing a break to get down from his high, but the words were stuck in his throat.

“you’re getting me a plan b later.” you moaned, smirking as you felt him tremble.

tags 〜 @rigorwhoring @nilpill @cubedkennedy @ottermarbles @dollivication @dilfmaagnet @v0lturiaq @maes-mind555 @antagonize-me-motherfucker @luvrgreyy @arminsbf @sprawberry @xxfritzz @flutterylust @angelstargel @cockiiess @ghosty-the-doll @crystaksack

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter eight:

➴ warnings: none!!

➴ word count: 3.6k

➴ author’s note: don’t you guys love when people kiss and make up?

sophiamontenegro

liked by taylorzakharperez, zendaya, billboard and 2,692,102 others.

sophiamontenegro thanks for having me, new york 🎅🏻

View all 20,672 comments

mtv JAW IS ON THE FLOOR

trevorzegras you should’ve come to anaheim

sophiamontenegro @.trevorzegras and u should fuck off

ilovhockey77 @sophiamontenegro @.trevorzegras I wanna know the beef between them so bad someone put me in soph’s close friends list

saraunyn @ilovhockey77 im pretty sure its just Trevor who doesn’t know how to take a hint…

arianagrande i love you

morgan.grace you’re so fucking hot Sophia the hell

lovssoph PROUD TO SAY THAT I WAS IN THAT CROWD

— ♡

DECEMBER always brought more work than you’d like to have but for the first time since you started working as a singer, you were grateful for it.

You had so many appearances, so many fans to see, so many concerts to do. You were grateful singing was your favorite thing to do because time passed and you didn’t even notice it.

But, now some of the fuss calmed down and you were able to spend time doing things that weren’t related to your career, like;

“Sophia, come on, you’re gonna be late!” Grace shouted from the living room and you laughed, pouring the butter flavored popcorn into a bowl. “Sophia!”

“Jesus, Grace, calm down,” you shouted back, looking for napkins. “It’s not like we have to be there or whatever.”

Today the Devils were playing against the Blackhawks and Grace asked you if you both could watch it at your house.

“We don’t have to if you think it will make you sad, but i really wanted to watch Nico tonight.” Grace smiled, not even trying to hide how she was head over heels for him.

“It’s okay, Grace, I swear. I want to see Nico too,” you smiled, trying to hide the fact that you’d secretly been watching all of their games, desperate to catch a glimpse of Jack’s blue eyes. “We can do a girls night.”

“But you’re losing all the good shit,” she whined. “The Blackhawks players are fine, too. That Bedard kid is a cute, little honeybun.”

You chuckled, walking away from the kitchen and sitting on the couch beside her, putting the bowl on the table.

“He has a girlfriend, y’know. He dates his teammate’s sister, Ellie I think.”

“Oh, I think I saw a picture of them together at a party last month,” she tapped her chin with her index finger. “They do look cute together.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, watching as the commentator introduced the players. “Who do you think is going to win?”

“Girl, I don’t like to tell anyone my predictions because what if I jinx it?” She stared at you, like you were crazy just for asking.

You rolled your eyes. “Ever since you and Nico started fucking you became awfully surpersticious.”

“Sophia Montenegro!” She raised her arms, kicking you with her feet. “You can’t talk to me like that! I’m your sister.”

“Which gives me permission to say that you and Nico are fucking. Who cares?” You kicked her back, starting a kicking fight.

You both just stopped when you were both out of breath and the game was starting. The first period was going surprisingly smooth for the Blackhawks, which made you— secretly— worry.

Jack has probably seen better days. You would always say that he’s the number one player in the team because for you he absolutely is, but even someone who didn’t know anything about Hockey could tell that he was lacking.

You bit your lips and squeezed your thighs because, even after everything, Jack looked so fucking good. Especially with the black Devils uniform. He looked handsome and you knew that he was all of that, and he’d always be.

Sometimes you’d think about how good the sex between the two of you was, and you’d wonder if you’d find anything like that ever again.

At the end of the first period, the scoreboard read 2-1, the Blackhawks winning. You and Grace were in the middle of a discussion about how her ex looked like Shaggy from Scooby Doo when the commentator started showing the celebrities who showed up to the game.

“Who even cares about the celebrities who showed up?” You threw popcorn at the screen. “Or even better, since when do they show celebrities? Aren’t they supposed to be interviewing the players or whatever?”

“You know a lot for someone who doesn’t watch the games,” Grace teased you, and you just pushed a handful of popcorn inside your mouth. “And sorry to say this, sweetie, but if people didn’t care about celebrities, you and I wouldn’t have a job.”

You rolled your eyes, paying attention to the TV again.

“So, tell me, Nat, I’ve heard that we have some pretty famous people here today.” The announcer talked to the reporter who was standing in some kind of expensive room Sophia didn’t know the name of.

The black woman just smiled, nodding her head and bringing the microphone closer to her face.

“That’s right, Shaan. Some well known people blessed us with their presence here today…”

“I hope it's Ariana Grande or some shit like that.” Grace muttered beside you.

“Oh remind me to call her later, I need to visit her next time I’m in LA,” you replied mindlessly, still watching the sports channel.

“…And among all of these people, we have the one and only, Harris Dickinson and his girlfriend, Chloe McGill!”

“What?!” You heard Grace yelling beside you, which confirmed that what you were seeing wasn’t just your head trying to play games with you.

There he stood, in all his glory, with the cocky smirk that once gave you butterflies and was now making you sick, with his arm wrapped around a girl’s waist.

“Am I tripping or that girl looks awfully like you?”

You looked at the scene in front of you, where the reporter was now interviewing Harris with an enthusiastic smile. The girl beside him, Chloe you think, indeed looked a lot like you.

“She… she looks just like how I did when I started dating him,” you concluded, feeling sick all over again. “Even the fucking bangs, Grace.”

She put her hand on your left arm, caressing you. “I’m so sorry, bubba. Do you want me to turn it off?”

“No, ‘course not,” you reassured her, trying to smile. “I’m fine, I was just caught off guard, that’s all.”

“Okay,” Grace whispered. “Okay.”

“…I’m just happy to be here, y’know?” Harris stated, still showing his pearly white teeth. “I’m a huge Devils fan, just like my girl here.”

“That’s the biggest lie he’s ever said,” you laughed, feeling sorry for how pathetic he is. “He deadass couldn’t even stand the thought of Hockey, or any sport for that matter. What the hell is he even saying?”

“Well, apparently that little girlfriend of his, is the daughter of one of the Devils’ coaches,” Grace promptly replied, and you looked at her, ready to ask how the hell she knew that, but seeing the phone in her hand. “They’re like, rich as fuck.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Harris’ type to me.” You mumbled, praying that the second period would come faster.

And maybe God did hear your prayers because not even five minutes later, the Devils and the Blackhawks were back on the ice. The game was nerve wracking, your nails and eardrums long gone from how much you’d bitten them and how loud Grace screamed during the game.

Jack was smooth on ice, the best you’ve seen him playing all season, even before you and him fought. It was satisfying to watch him doing what he loved and you were happy that he was finally getting back on track.

Two hours later, the game ended; the Devils won. Grace cheered and jumped around while you laughed at her, happy to see her happy. Even if you didn’t understand much of hockey and even if you didn’t care about it, you were also thrilled, because you knew Jack would be happy.

You kinda hated your mind for always thinking about him but you couldn’t help it. Not when you saw how handsome he looked and not when you still loved him. A lot.

The same reporter from before, Nat, continued to talk, interviewing some of the players from the team. Grace whined about being hungry and you rolled your eyes, getting up to cook for her.

“What do you want?” You asked, opening your cabinets. “I can make pasta for us.”

“Ugh, yes, please,” she fake-moaned and you laughed. “If I’m going to fuck Nico tonight, Imma need all the carbs in the world,”

“You’re disgusting. I hope you know that,” you answered back, putting the water to boil.

“For Nico Hischier? Hell yes I am!”

You cut the onions and garlic, before putting olive oil on a separate pan and adding them. Grace continued to yap about the game, pointing out all the best players and who she liked best, while you just nodded and cooked.

“Ooh, they’re having a fancy celebrating party tonight!” She yelled from the living room, even if you could still see her and the TV because you had an open kitchen, grabbing your attention. “Is it a gala? I hope it is, Hockey players look so fucking good in suits.”

“And they say I’m the horny one…” you mumbled, putting the tomato sauce inside the pan.

“Can this woman give us some information we actually want to hear? I don’t care if they have points or not, I just want to see them in suits!”

“She’s just doing her job, Grace, stop being a whore.”

Moving around the kitchen, you finished Grace’s dinner, and grabbed a plate for her, not after filling up a glass of cold water and grating some cheese.

You went back to the living room, placing everything in front of her, while she hugged you from behind, giving you neck kisses.

“I am going to wife you up, baby!”

You giggled. “Shut up and eat, weirdo,”

She just let you go and sat on the floor, swallowing the pasta like it was her last meal.

You both watched as they showed the party, all of the players there, people laughing and smiling for pictures. Jack wasn’t interacting with the reporters, and you thought it was weird, even if you knew he low-key hated them.

“…so, yeah, I’m definitely happy we won tonight but we still have to work hard—” Mercer suddenly stopped himself mid-sentence, leaving the woman— Nat— beside him confused. He covered his mouth with his hand and laughed. “Is that Jack fighting someone? That’s sick! Film that, baldy!” He asked the cameraman.

You and Grace stopped talking and stared at each other. The camera suddenly changed angles and showed a body you knew way too well on top of another body you, unfortunately, also knew well.

“Jesus, Jack is punching Harris in the face!” Grace announced, like you weren’t watching it yourself.

The angles weren’t good because you’d bet money the cameraman wasn’t expecting to record a fight tonight, but it was still pretty damn clear that Jack was punching Harris’ face repeatedly, while his girlfriend screamed and cried and the other players tried to get him off Harris’ face.

Harris fought back, but even though he tried, he wasn’t used to fighting. Unlike Jack, who threw every punch with force and precision.

“It seems like our number eighty-six, Jack Hughes, is having a fist fight with the actor Harris Dickinson!”

“Stop trying to state the obvious, bitch, film the fucking fight!” Grace yelled.

“Grace, calm down.” you whispered, watching as the camera focused on Jack again, this time him being dragged by Nico and Nathan while he shouted at them to let him go.

This was bad. Like, bad, truly bad. They focused on Harris’ face for just a second, and it was enough— his face was all bloody and he was probably going to have a black eye for a week, with how swollen his eye was. Jack had most likely broken his nose and shit wasn’t looking good.

“Oh my God, why did he do this!” You got up from the couch, pacing around the room. “Fuck, does he know what this is going to do to him? Harris is dating the Coach’s daughter, what the hell!”

Grace was also too stunned to speak, something that did not happen often. You could tell she was just as distressed as you.

“Harris Dickinson is going to the hospital with his girlfriend Chloe and his father-in-law, Coach Ryan McGill.”

“What the fuck, this is bad,” you put your hands on your head, trying to figure out what to do. “I need to do something.”

Grace sighed, loudly. “I should be the brain in our friendship but… yeah. I mean, I know you guys are out of contact right now but this… he definitely did this for you…”

“Yeah, Grace, make me feel worse, go ahead.” You hissed.

“I’m not trying to make you feel worse, baby, you know why he did that!” She raised her arms. “You should talk to him. This obviously isn’t working for any of you.”

“Grace—”

“No, you will hear me now!” She talked on top of you, also getting up. “I’ve watched you put on a fake smile and pretend you’re fine and I didn’t say anything because I knew you had to figure it out yourself, but I can’t do this anymore. You’re drowning yourself in work, you spend half of your time at your studio and the other half at John’s studio. You don’t go out, you don’t live.”

“Grace.” You tried again.

“And usually I’d say something like: ‘get over that fucking asshole’ or ‘he isn’t worth it’!” She walked back and forth. “But the worst part is that Nico told me Jack is just like you!”

That made you stop. “What?”

“He’s not at parties, he’s not hanging out with the team, he’s not goofing around. All he does is sleep, eat and go to practice. And, fuck, Nico doesn’t know what to do because Jack never acted like this before.”

“Grace, what…” you breathed, almost yanking your hoodie with how much force you were holding it. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because it’s so fucking obvious you both love each other yet you won’t do anything!” She lamented, staring at your eyes. “I can’t watch you fall apart like this. You have to tell him that you want to be with him.”

“Grace, I can’t— I can’t do that.” You stuttered, trying your hardest not to cry.

“Sophia,” she whispered, grabbing your hands. “That man loves you. He just punched your ex-boyfriend on national television, with everyone watching. I stand with what I said back at that dreadful Halloween party, I’ve seen how he looks at you. And he loves you. Jack Hughes loves you, Sophia.”

You let her words sink in, nodding once. Grace was bossy, delusional and a bit insane too but she was right. You needed to do something.

“Okay,” you agreed, holding her against your body. “What do I do?”

“Shit, I didn’t think you’d agree with what I was saying… I don’t know?”

“You’re such a dumbass sometimes,” you laughed and she pinched your butt. “I think… I think I’m going to his house.”

“That’s a bald ass move and so right. Want me to go with you?”

“No, I’m good. I don’t even know if he’ll hear me out but I’ll try?” You stepped back, grabbing your car keys and purse.

“Call me if anything goes wrong,” she blinked, going back to the couch. “If you don’t, I’ll call you and risk interrupting your fuck.”

“Like I’d ever pick up,” you joked, leaving the house.

Jack lived thirty minutes away from you, and alongside with that, it was a Friday night in Newark— of course the streets were filled with cars. It took you an hour to get there but even so, Jack’s car wasn’t parked in front of his garage like it used to.

You turned your car off, and waited. You could wait outside but with how cold it was, it was safer for you to wait inside. You couldn’t risk getting sick.

Seconds turned into minutes and when the one hour mark came, you sighed.

“Maybe he isn’t coming home tonight,” you said to no one, tired of waiting. You knew you could call him, but you weren't entirely sure he’d pick up. “Maybe it’s just traffic.”

You decided to wait a little bit more, half an hour. If Jack wasn’t there by the end of it, you’d just come back tomorrow. Fortunately, shortly after that, Jack’s car was parked outside of his house.

You watched as he got out of it, opened the back door and grabbed his duffel bag. Taking a deep breath, you left your car and closed the door silently.

Walking to his porch with fast steps, you called him. “Jack!”

He stopped immediately, turning around to face you. He had a bandage on his eyebrow and one on his cheek. Your heart tugged on your chest.

“Soph?” He asked, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him.

You stepped closer, smiling awkwardly.

“Hi,” you said, softly, putting your hands inside your pockets. “Can we… hum… talk?”

He stared at you for a second, before nodding and turning around again, opening his door and letting you inside the house first. You thanked him and stepped inside, taking in the sight you missed so much, his home.

You both stayed quiet for a while; he put his things away and you stood there, weirdly. You didn’t know how to start the conversation, so you just stared at him. He looked tired, dark circles adorning his face, hair messy and face a bit swollen. Even if he looked hurt, he looked ten thousand times better than Harris, who was probably in the emergency room at the local hospital.

“Jack,” you started, noticing how his body went stiff and he stopped moving. “Why did you do it?”

You didn’t give him a chance to reply, stepping closer and putting your hand on his face, feeling the hotness of it, and realizing you missed him more than you knew.

“Jesus, Jack, do you even realize what you did?” You whispered, moving your thumb up and down. “He’s dating your coach’s daughter. He’s a powerful man, baby.” The pet name slipped out of your tongue, but you didn’t want to take it back.

“Fuck,” he breathed, grabbing your wrist and kissing it. “Say it again, Soph.”

Maybe someone else would need him to clarify it better, explain further. But not you. Not when the love you felt for him ran deep inside your soul.

“Baby,” you whispered again, watching as he closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Sophia, fuck, what did you do to me?” His voice sounded so tender, you could feel your body wanting nothing more than to melt inside his arms. “I can’t— Fuck.”

“Jack, you need to understand that what you did, baby, it could cost you a lot—”

“I know. Soph, I know that. And I still would break his asshole’s nose again and again.”

“Why did you do it?”

He stepped away, and you immediately wanted him to come back. “Why did I do it? Isn’t it obvious?” He laughed, humorlessly. “Sophia, I am in love with you. I love you.”

You felt your cheeks getting wet, and only then did you realize you were crying.

“I didn’t understand it sooner because, hell, I have never loved a woman before that wasn’t my mom, and even then, it’s not even close to what I feel towards you,” he ran his hands through his hair. “I didn’t think being in a relationship was for me, I didn’t even want it. But now I look at you and—” he looked at you, blue eyes brighter than you’d ever seen. “I look at you and I realize you’re all I want.”

You were fully crying now, the tears running down your face like models on a runway. Your hands were shaking, and you wanted to scream at him.

“You’re it for me, baby,” he stepped closer, gently putting his hands on your waist, letting you rest your head on his chest. “I know that you’re upset, and I know this isn’t easy for you. We all got bags full of shit that we don’t want, but I will unpack them for you, baby. Just… just let me.”

“Jack,” you sniffled, trying to stop crying. “I need you to know that I love you, too. But,” you pressed your lips together, organising your thoughts. “You need to know that sometimes it’s going to be hard for me. I don’t trust so easily anymore and I’m sorry for it but that’s just who I am.”

You could swear you could feel his smile, while he held you tighter. “It’s okay, Soph. When I tell you that I want you, I don’t mean only the good parts. I want you whole. I want the bad, the good and the in-between,”

“What if,” you hold him impossibly closer. “I don’t want you to get tired of me.”

“Tired of you?” He chuckled. “I want to marry you.”

You stepped away from his like he was on fire. Frowning, you raised your finger.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Hughes. Besides that, you’re literally twenty-two.”

“I don’t mind you being my old sugar mommy,” he shrugged, smiling.

“Call me old again, Jack Hughes, and I promise you will never hear from me again.” You smiled too, and for the first time in probably two months, it felt real.

“Yes, ma’am,” he stopped smiling, stepping closer to you again. Holding your wrists to his mouth, he kissed the right first before moving onto the next. After he was done, he placed them on his neck, grabbing your waist.

You stood on your toes, trying to stay face to face with him.

“Can I be your boyfriend?”

You smiled. “I guess you can.”

“You guess?” He bickered back, plastering his white teeth for you. “Can I kiss you, baby?” He whispered, kissing your cheeks. Then your nose, then your forehead. Always gentle and steady. “Soph, sweetheart, can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, you just glued your lips together, moaning because you had missed this so much. His lips felt like the sweetest thing in the world and when he touched your tongue with his, you were sure you had turned into butter and was now melting.

Maybe your forever wasn’t so distant at all.

[dreamwatch]

Kick 'em When They're Up

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest June warm-up round.

Prompt: Band on the run | Word Count: 997 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Established Relationship, the press being scumbags, angst, Eddie Munson needs a hug, and Steve is going to give it to him, they're in love your honour | AO3

*title from Dirty Laundry by Don Henley

****

It’s taken eight years for it to come out; one world tour, three albums. One video that blew up on MTV. And that was the problem.

Because being a metal band, while they were famous, in metal magazines, in the scene, they weren’t famous. They weren’t Metallica. But it was cool. They were successful enough, they had everything they ever wanted.

But see, you have a successful single, and people who don’t know you, well, now they know you. And they want to know more about you, so they buy magazines. And some magazines, some shitty, low rent, nasty fucking rags, they really dig.

It’s been a long time since he’s seen his photograph alongside Chrissy Cunningham's.

They’d barely got off the stage in Quebec before Phil, their manager, was getting them into cars and back to the hotel. No one telling them a goddamn thing, just “We have a situation, we have to go.” They all piled into Phil’s hotel room, still sweaty, towels around their necks, before the bomb got dropped.

“Bullshit,” Eddie says, even though he can see it in Phil’s face. He scrambles to turn the television on. And it’s there, on the news, not just MTV either, it made CNN. 

He barely makes it to the bathroom before he throws up.

He has no idea how long he’s been sitting on the bathroom floor. People have been knocking but he ignores them. They probably need a piss. They’ll have to go to someone else’s room.

There’s another knock and he just wants to tell them to fuck off but they speak before he gets a chance.

“Eddie?” Jeff, talking to him so softly, which makes him feel worse. Because this isn’t just about Eddie, it affects them too. If this blows up— fuck, he doesn’t even want to think about it.

“Dude? Steve’s on the phone. I think you should come out and talk to him.”

And that’s the trigger, that’s the thing that gets him off the floor and unlocking the door. What he walks into isn’t a hotel room anymore, it’s a fucking war room. Phil is on another phone, the cable leading from the corridor outside the room. Their tour manager and publicist have their heads together at the desk. There are members of the road crew coming in and out of the room, dropping off food and drinks. When the door opens he can see security posted on the door.

Holy fuck. All because of him.

He takes the phone and turns to face the wall. “Steve?” His voice is rough from the adrenaline and stomach acid. He needs a drink.

“Hey,” says Steve in that oh-so-gentle voice, and God how he fucking needs him right now. “How are you holding up?”

“Been better,” he manages to force out. 

“Shit, sorry, stupid question.”

And Steve knows what he needs to hear before he can even form the words; Wayne is fine, Steve is fine, yes there are photographers and press outside his house, no there is no one outside of Wayne’s. 

“You’re all on flights out of Quebec this afternoon, okay?”

“To where?” They were supposed to be back in LA at the end of the week. But now… he has a hot stone in the pit of his stomach just thinking about it.

“Dublin via Toronto. You liked Ireland, right? And it’s quiet, it’ll be easy to hide there for a bit. Dustin has a friend-of-a-friend thing going on, but basically he’s got us a house in the middle of nowhere. We’ll be fine.”

“We?”

“I’m at LAX now. You’ll probably beat me there, you can hide out in the lounge and drink all their booze.” Eddie can hear the smile in his voice. He never stops marvelling at the way Steve just knows him, knows what he needs morning, noon and night. 

He clutches the phone, knuckles turning white. “I can’t do this without you.”

“You can. You won’t be alone, Phil is going to fly in with you, he’ll take care of everything. Just, tie your hair up and keep it under a cap. And take your rings off, okay? Keep your arms covered if you can.”

“Try not to look like Eddie Munson?”

There’s a pause at the end of the line before Steve lets out a soft sigh. “Yeah. Just for now though, right?”

“Right.” 

“I gotta go, my flight is boarding. I love you, okay?”

Eddie feels broken, the thought of hanging up like cutting his lifeline and he almost can’t bear to do it. “Okay. I love you too.”

“Always and forever?”

Eddie can hear the light teasing in Steve’s voice, and he smiles for the first time since Phil told him his life had been turned upside down again. Because that is what Steve does to him; blows away the tears and the clouds and the rain. Takes the open wounds of him and pulls them taught, stitching them together and making him whole again. 

“Always and forever,” he whispers back. 

He still feels sick, still has that putrid, adrenaline-filled rock in his gut just sitting there, but Steve’s voice reminds him of what they can’t take from him. They can take his band, his career, everything he worked for. But Steve will always be there for him. So many times in his life he’s questioned whether he is loved, like, truly loved. Even Wayne, who gave up so much for him, Eddie always worried that it came from a sense of obligation, even though deep down he knew better. But now, trapped in the middle of this maelstrom, the target of another witch hunt, he’s never been more sure of this: Steve Harrington loves him. And he loves him back in a way that should be scary but feels like oxygen, feels like life. And that’s what it comes down to, ultimately;  Steve is his life. 

And no shitty third rate magazine is ever taking that away from him.

****

Thanks to the wonderful @devondespresso for beta-ing!

[talaok]

Pedro Pascal

♡ = smut        ☆= fluff         ➹ = angst

PEDRO PASCAL

Will you kiss me? →You are a famous actress who Pedro has a crush on, and he finally gets to meet you once you get both invited to The Graham Norton Show (☆)

Very good friends → No one knows that you and your co-star Pedro are in a relationship, and as you get interviewed, it turns out you're both really bad at keeping it a secret (☆)

Marie → Pedro pascal x actress!reader (☆)

My hero → You and Pedro find out the Last of Us has won 3 MTV awards (☆)

The carpet → You and your husband Pedro prepare for a red carpet, but once you're there you have a wardrobe malfunction, luckily, he's there to help. (☆)

-Requests-

Hurt/comfort:

Sick day → Pedro pascal x sick!reader (☆)

All I need → comforting Pedro after a nightmare (☆)

You bled through on Pedro’s bed

Reader has a bad day (hurt/comfort)

You ask Pedro to practice a break-up scene and he gets in his head

Cuddling with Pedro after a bad day

Comforting Pedro

You're stressed because of an exam and Pedro takes care of you

Pedro x sick!reader (rushing to the er)

You start to cry because of mean comments about your relationship on the internet, but Pedro comforts you

Pedro takes care of you while you're sick and you end up having your first kiss

Reader has pots disease (☆)

jealousy:

At the Met → You and Pedro, Hollywood's hottest couple, attend the Met Gala together, but when you find out your ex was invited too, things start going sideways (☆+➹) pt. 2

Pedro is jealous of one of your co-stars

Pedro is jealous of your ex (pt.2)

Pedro’s jealous of one of your friends

Pedro’s jealous of your best friend

Pedro gets jealous at the Beyonce concert

jealous!reader

Pedro is jealous of how your friends talk about you and ends up confessing his feelings.

you open the door only wearing a shirt and panties and Pedro gets jealous

Pedro's jealous of another actor because he said in an interview he has a crush on you

Dad!Pedro:

Daddy! → You and your daughter visit Pedro on set (☆) [pt.2]

Pedro x pregnant!reader

Pedro with your daughter

You and Pedro have a child and are very famous

Pedro dresses up as mando for halloween for your daughter

Pedro falls in love with pregnant!reader

Pedro has the perfect day with his daughter and you

You and Pedro finding out you're having twins

Protective!Pedro:

Sick day → Pedro pascal x sick!reader (☆)

You and Pedro had a fight but he’s still very protective of you

Sexier ones:

Pool → A hot pool lesson with Pedro (☆)

You're mad at him, but you're trying for a baby and you're ovulating (bathtub scene from Queen charlotte inspired)

Pedro trying to wake you up in the morning with kisses

He kisses you while you’re fighting

Pedro being your first time

Others:

Mama → Pedro Pascal x interviewer!reader (☆)

First kiss with Pedro (☆)

Pedro is a bad flirt (☆)

Surprising Pedro for his Birthday (☆)

Random fluff (☆)

You wake up to find Pedro starting at you (☆)

Pedro wipes your make up off after you feel asleep (☆)

An Interview to Pedro about your marriage

You’re on face-time when the emmy nominations get announced

Groomzilla

The Diet → tw: eating disorder (☆+➹)

Pedro proposes to you

Waking up with Pedro while on vacation

Pedro takes care of you while you’re drunk

Watching a football match with Pedro but you’re on opposite teams

Making pasta with Pedro

Pedro helps you take a shower

You and Pedro get set up on a blind date

Pedro gets in his head and starts wondering if, after all, you actually want children

Reader doesn't believe in love, and is not sure if she wants to give Pedro a chance

Pedro and wife!reader get matching tattoos

Supporting Pedro at snl

You get insecure about you and Pedro's age gap, but he reassures you

Angry love confession in the rain

You and Pedro's first kiss (you're both actors and fall in love while filming a movie)

Pregnant!reader and Pedro at the SAG awards

You and Pedro (your co-star) get a little too drunk and have your first kiss

Pedro joins in on your skincare routine

[reality-detective]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙊𝙛 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙄𝙨 𝙂𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙥𝙨𝙚: 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙝𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣

𝘼𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙧 𝘼𝙨𝙝𝙩𝙤𝙣 𝙆𝙪𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙚𝙖𝙣 "𝘿𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙮" 𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙗𝙨. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙧’𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜-𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙘 𝙢𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙡 𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙮 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣 𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙥 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙙. 𝙊𝙣 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝 25, 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝘿𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙖𝙝𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙫𝙖𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙛𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙇𝘼 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙈𝙞𝙖𝙢𝙞 𝙞𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙨𝙚𝙭 𝙩𝙧𝙖••𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨. 𝙊𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙬 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙝𝙨, 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚, 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙘𝙦𝙪𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙮, 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢.

• ASU

• CEMEX

• McCain Institute.

• Thorn (Ashton Kutcher)

• NXVIM

• The Rothschilds

• The Bronfmans

During a 2019 episode of Hot Ones that recently resurfaced, Ashton was asked about the parties at Combs' house by host Sean Evans.

'I’ve got a lot I can’t tell,' he said, pausing for a moment before adding: 'I can’t tell that one either.'

Diddy, 54, and Ashton have been friends for decades and appeared together on The Late Late Show with James Corden in 2018 where he gushed about their bond.

'I was doing Making the Band on MTV, he was doing Punk’d and I gave him a call one day and said, "I heard that you are going to punk me and I just don’t think that’s a good idea,"' Diddy told Corden.

As you all can see many celebrities have been quiet about this P. Diddy drama. They know what they did at these parties and they know P. Diddy is not someone who is going to be reserved on who attended these parties if he is questioned on the stand through cross examination once the evidence is presented.

P. Diddy is loyal to no one but maybe Clive Davis & Lucien Grainge. But even they have been brought under scrutiny and its matter of time before they are brought within scope of how they were also participants in some of those parties. You know this case is heavy when all the passports were taken from not only P. Diddy but his children including the baby.

Another thing people have to consider is the fact that P. Diddy has been paying off victims for decades not to go to authorities. Not to say that some were threatened but many took the money and never followed through on what happened. But now P. Diddy no longer has the means to do so at this point. Which is why he was willing to offer his home and his mother's home up for the 50 million dollar bail. Which should imply to anyone that his money is tied up.

So he is in a very tight spot at this time. Which is what makes this case all the more damning to the network of high profile figures who are walking around in fear that they may be getting a subpoena soon. And ofcourse Ashton Kutcher is one of those people. But again I want to mention this for all those who are salivating at the mouth for P. Diddy to be tossed in the slammer. You are thinking way too small here.

The Royals

The Clintons

Barrack Obama

Naomi Campbell

The C!A

The Playboy Mansion

As a matter of fact Most people of influence are controlled with money, drugs, s•x scandals, and pedophilia. The C!A also used prostitution and homosexuality as blackmail and honeypot tools back when they constituted criminal offences and were considered socially scandalous. At Heffner’s Playboy Mansion, straight blackmail targets were lured with a promise of associating with scantily clad beautiful women and celebrities. Innocent targets were drugged and photographed with clearly underaged and/or male sex partners, and the staged photos were enough to create the leverage of control the CIA sought over the now-compromised targets. 🤔

[sageistri]

Jimin had a solo era where he had 10 days of mostly local promo except for Jimmy Fallon for his 6 song EP (1 b-side + 1 title track) in Mar 2023 + 1 collab (with Kodak and Jvke) in the F&F movie franchise in May 2023 + 1 collab with Taeyang of Big Bang in Jan 2023 with accompanying mvs for both collabs + 1 fansong released on christmas week 2023 with 30 hours of notice and recycled footage for its mv + 1 documentary released on weverse in Oct 2023.

JK had a solo era where immediately after hiatus he released left & right in June 2022 with Charlie Puth who's pretty famous in his own right, a world cup song in Nov 2022 and performed solo in the opening ceremony which was watched by 1.5 billion viewers. He then proceeded to release Seven in July 2023 with latto who's also pretty damn famous in the west with Grammy winning producers and an accompanying mv with Han So Hee. Seven is perhaps the most payola'd kpop song of all time - I can't even list it all down without making this ask huge but suffice to say that with all the ads and playlisting on several platforms including tth from day 1 and some help from spotify to keep all his combined versions together instead of splitting them and probably a tiktok heating deal - seven managed to stay on top of global for weeks and netted a bunch of records.

However moving on, JK performs at good morning america, is supposed to perform at the mtv emas (gets cancelled) and announces his next single 3D with Jack Harlow at Global Citizen Fest at NY releasing in Sep 2023. He also has a collab too much with kid laroi and central cee in Oct 2023 with an accompanying mv. After that we're gearing up for his all English album release in Nov 2023 with a 11 track album. He has features from major lazer and dj snake and songs composed and produced by the likes of Diplo, Ed Sheeran and Shawn Mendes. He goes on to perform snty at Jimmy Fallon, Times Square and iHeartRadio live. While none of his songs post seven are as heavily payola'd, they're still very well promoted. In Dec 2023, he releases a remix of SNTY with usher with an accompanying mv. He also features in hots in single I wonder in March 2024. Finally he's released a fan song never let go for festa in June 2024 which is a fansong but has a bunch of benefits usually seen for digital singles but no MV.

Obviously I haven't mentioned everything like their ambassadorships, their single bad decisions with benny blanco (mostly because I forgot about it), smaller promo like suchwita, JK's radio interviews, his visualisers, Jimin's Korean shows, either of their mnet performances, their myriad of tiktoks, their dance performances on youtube, JK's week-long station head parties or accompanying Yoongi on the D-Day tour. Plus as I said I can't mention the full length and breadth of JK's promo compared to Jimin in smaller aspects like number of remixes / remix albums or cd stock because this'll go on forever. And of course this is only the status as of today. We know pjm2 is coming as is probably a documentary for JK and their travel show together. Though I've probably missed out some things for both, I think I've covered the main points of both the solo eras.

There's a bunch of stuff happening here. For one JK's solo era is spaced out very well regardless of who else among BTS is releasing. While other members are clustered in specific times to avoid overlap, JK manages to have the most well spaced out solo era sometimes to the detriment of a member whose promo he might be encroaching on (debatable but I think it's true). The world cup gig which undoubtedly went to BTS being co-opted as JK's solo has never sit right with me but whatever. People can delude themselves about how in demand JK is but the truth is Latto, Jack Harlow and others probably got very well paid for collabing with JK and were certainly approached by Hybe / SB projects rather than the other way around. Same goes for them putting the full force of their marketing department in netting all those performances in the US plus awards. The new jeans controversy gave some insight into how Hybe can use their leverage to net spons, awards and performances when they want to. The fact that most of the collaborators JK had are good buddies with 🛴 isnt lost on any of us. JK's almost exclusive focus on the western market with all English songs is also noteworthy. I haven't even mentioned Jimin's sabotages because I can see how it's debatable but certainly JK's team at Hybe / SB projects were at the least way more careful handling his releases than whoever the hell is running things for Jimin at Hybe even if you don't want to acknowledge the sabotage he went through or the sheer disrespect of having his album release cut off by another members. Also not going into the bs with the delay in Jimin's RIAA certification just so that JK could get that first kpop soloist title or the insanity of Jimin's billboard sales filtering versus JK's premptive itunes preorder for seven before the official announcement of the BB rules change and helpful midweek sales updates that seven had.

After all this, it's amazing that JK's main point of comparison is Jimin. The fact that jjks and armys still feel this compulsive need to compare JK with Jimin after he releases something inspite of JK's peers supposedly being Taylor Swift now (their words not mine) speaks to both how JK was unable to capitalize on his heavy marketing and records versus how much Jimin was able to achieve with Face and Like Crazy.

JK managing to get the most likes on tiktok, staying on charts after heavy playlisting, becoming the darling of kpop stans - notoriously known for being visual stans and extremely fickle, and getting a bunch of kpop awards at the end of 2023 and probably 2024, having the most name recognition among all the members, still needing most of his streams for SNTY to come from Thailand, having album retail sales equal almost the same as Jimin inspite of the huge difference in gross album sales - are these really worthy accomplishments after this extremely long list of moves he's made? Jungkook was very popular to start out with and has always been the darling of armys - to the extent that he managed to avoid getting boycotted inspite of being associated and working with a bunch of zionists for golden. Apart from his new kpop fans, did he manage to net new fans during his solo era though? Or are his main fans still the armys he started out with in the first place from his time in BTS? Is this what anons in your asks think we're supposed to believe is impact?

Impact is what happened after BTS released Dynamite and Butter. A breakout star or single is what Baby was once upon a time for Justin Bieber or Espresso is to Sabrina Carpenter today. You get gp fans when you release good music like Olivia Rodrigo or Billie Eilish. You get critical acclaim when your albums have overarching themes that were carefully constructed and thought out like Beyonces albums. Your solo fanbase becomes more dedicated when you share parts of yourself in your music like Taylor Swift does.

When you make an album with care and dedication, then even when your label doesn't give a damn about you or actively tries to suppress you, your song can still chart more than a year later with your solo fanbase working dedicatedly towards you. That might not be a PCA, but it's a damn sight more valuable imo.

Sorry for how long this got. I just kept remembering more and more stuff to include...

Wow... This is such a perfectly summarized version of the major points and opinions we've all had since jimin's debut... I love it, this is probably the best ask and best post related to this whole thing i have ever read.

It is good for pjms who still ask certain questions about stuff we already talked about and I can never find the exact post where we already talked about it so I'll pin it.

[octuscle]

Studying has been so stressful lately ? Have you got something to help me relax ?

Thursday morning, 8:00 a.m. You park the old Toyota Prius that you took over from your mother in the student parking lot. Thank God it's the weekend soon, you think. But you don't feel like going to the microeconomics lecture right away. Integration of AI in the pricing of inhomogeneous markets. Unfortunately, you're not one of those nerds who can jerk off to the lecture notes. But you have to go through it now. Before you go in there, you surf through Instagram a bit. An ad for Chronivac TimeTravel pops up. It looks silly… Kind of like a role-playing game. You have to choose a character. You think about how your dad always raves about his college days. Maybe it would be cool if it was 1983. And if you were a bodybuilder. A stupid meathead. You choose that as your character. You'll worry about the rest later. Your lecture is about to start. And you still have to fight your way through the group of activists protesting against the climate policy.

The lecture is really too complicated for you. AI is a complex subject. But in combination with microeconomics? Whoever came up with that… You breathe a sigh of relief when the lecture is over. As well as you can with your face mask on. This pandemic is really exhausting. But it's good that at least there are lectures in presence again. This videoconference crap is really not mature yet. Next lecture is Spanish for Business. That's more your thing. The professor is really hot. Good motivation to go back to the workout later. You've been spending every free minute in the gym for two months, and you're starting to see results.

During the lunch break you sit with the lads from the wrestling team. Wrestling is not your thing. But the lads look like bulls. And you like that. You talk about the legalization of cannabis in Canada. That would be a cool thing here too. You've pretty much given up smoking and alcohol since you got into bodybuilding. But you don't think there's anything wrong with a little weed now and then.

At 4:00 p.m., university is over for you for the day. You sit down in the five-year-old VW Jetta that you took over from your mother. It's really embarrassing. You feel ashamed every time you drive it to the gym. Let's see, maybe you can at least put a cool matte black finish on it…

The workout was awesome again. You totally forgot the time. You're back in your car at 9:00 p.m. and drive to your dorm. You turn on the news while you prepare your dinner. China's Vice President Xi Jinping is appointed vice chairman of the Communist Party's military commission. The 57-year-old is seen as a potential successor to state and party leader Hu Jintao. Boring stuff… You certainly don't have to remember that name.

The alarm clock rings at 5:00 am. Breakfast. And off to the gym. The car radio is talking about a possible invasion of Iraq. Many of your buddies from the gym were in the army or navy… Their nerves are on edge. You can understand if you still have friends or family who might have to go to war. But 09/11 must be avenged!

Before university, leg training is the order of the day. You are proud of your colossal thighs. Many of your buddies only work out the upper body. You have the best proportions here. You've only been lifting iron for two years. But for you it's not a leisure activity, for you it's a religion.

You're just in time for your lecture. Game theory. You take your pad and pen and start taking notes. A laptop would be really cool right now. But you know four or five people on campus who have one. It's just incredibly expensive… But you won't need much longer for your bachelor's degree in sport management. Then you will hopefully be able to afford something like that. And hopefully also a new car. Your Jeep Wrangler is a cool car. But it's also eleven years old. Built in 1980… At least it gets you to the gym at 4:00 p.m. reliably.

Some dumbass turned on CNN instead of MTV on the workout floor. Some shit with the Soviet Union. Apparently everything is falling apart there and the former Soviet republics are forming a new union. Boring shit. Fortunately, someone quickly switches back to MTV. Good Vibrations with Marky Mark. Cool guy. But quite a weakling. You do a double bicepz pose in front of the mirror. You've been here every free minute for almost three years. Maybe you should be in one of those music videos.

After your workout, you wanted to go straight to bed. But it's Friday night. 10:00 p.m. The lads ask if you'd like to go to the late show of the new film with Michael J. Fox. Back to the Future. Why not. The movie's pretty funny, too. Time travel. Strange conception… But you like the idea…

Saturday morning, October 22, 1983. At 10:00 you're back at the Gym. On the way here, you've been listening to the radio about peace demonstrations in Europe. The Russki is once again threatening nuclear war. And we are stationing Pershings in Germany. Bonnie Tyler's "total eclipse of the heart" is playing from the speakers in the gym. Fuck the Russki and fuck the Germans. You're all about getting your muscles burning. At 2:00 p.m., your shift at the counter begins. Tonight you and your pals are going to wrestling. That would be a cool alternative. You as the new Hulk Hogan! But until that happens, you help out at the gym on weekends. And during the week, you'll drive a backhoe on a construction site. Hey, it's a cool life. You don't want any other!

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Night in New Orleans

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

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

(Fluff)

5.7k Words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[untitled5071]

your drabble of taffy meeting the creature earlier on the film makes me want to see those two being friends. but also taffy realising the creature likes lisa but lisa is too focused on michael to notice. catch her putting some colour on his face and painting his nails. she makes him watch romantic films to give him ideas on how to win lisa over

I'm glad you liked the last one! I have no idea of you meant for this to be a request but I took it as one anyway, please enjoy some Creature/Taffy bonding time!

🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦

“Okay, the next thing we have to work on is your nails, because no offense, but judging by these cuticles I can absolutely tell that you were in the ground for a century and a half.”

The corpse across from her grunted in indignation, but the effect was skewed by the blush that dusted his cheeks and the fluffy pink scrunchie that was currently holding his hair back. 

Taffy rolled her eyes teasingly and held out her hand, gesturing for the creature to give her his. He complied, and she grabbed the manicure kit she had gotten for Christmas the year before and got to work, pushing his cuticles back gently and cleaning up his nail beds as best she could while her TV announced the next music video it would be playing behind her.

They were sitting on the floor of Taffy’s bedroom; Lisa had gone out for a snack run and left her step sister alone with her secret undead companion, and Taffy hadn’t hesitated to use the opportunity to give the creature in her sister’s closet some much-needed pampering.

 He had protested the idea until Taffy had told him it would make him look more presentable for Lisa, and soon he was reluctantly sitting cross-legged in front of her on her bright teal carpet while Taffy tried and failed to find a foundation shade that matched his pallid skin. 

The process of applying makeup hadn’t lasted long since the creature wanted to remain as natural (unnatural?) as possible, and soon Taffy was taking his hand in hers and applying a base coat of nail polish onto his left hand while he watched curiously. Her TV was tuned into MTV, and she could see Creature stare at it for short bursts at a time before looking away, slightly overwhelmed by the colors, sounds and images he was being exposed to for the first time. 

Taffy hummed along as she fixed up his nails, and when she finished up the left hand she mimed blowing on it and told him to copy her, which he did as she moved onto the right hand, ignoring the stitches as she got started. 

A few minutes of silence lapsed between them; the creature was probably still a little unsure of whether or not he should be hanging around with her; they had a shaky introduction, but he seemed harmless enough to Taffy and she was just happy that someone was around for her sister in a way she herself had never quite been able to despite her best efforts, so he was okay in her book. And Taffy was clearly the family member that Creature had the least amount of disdain towards, so they had formed a tentative friendship, one that Taffy was currently trying to strengthen with this little makeover. 

Deciding to break the silence, she looked up into the corpse’s bewildered eyes and smiled, tearing him away from his staring contest with Billy Idol in the “Rebel Yell” music video.

“Don’t even think about getting bleached, buddy. Blonde would not be a good look for you.”

He grunted again, slightly offended, but she waved him off.

“Let’s rap. When did you first get the hots for Lisa?”

His grunt pitched up in surprise, and he gave her a look that was somehow sheepish, guilty and mortified all at once. 

“Dude, it’s totally obvious. You aren’t subtle AT ALL, I think everyone but Lisa herself can see that you’re totally smitten.”

His cheeks darkened under the artificial blush she had given him, and she nodded sagely. 

“Told you. So, when did it happen? When you got reanimated?”

The creature shook his head and pointed out an arched path with his left hand. 

“Oh, before? When you were still in the ground?”

He nodded, and Taffy whistled, impressed. 

“Damn, that’s some dedicated crush. Who knew grave tending was such a good way to meet guys?”

The creature snorted out a laugh, and Taffy raised a well-plucked eyebrow inquisitively. 

“So when are you going to tell her that you’re head over heels, huh? Frankly I think she should have noticed ages ago, but she’s always needed a bit more help in matters of love than most people and she won’t take my word for it, so you’re probably going to have to do some show and tell before she gets it.”

He hummed distractedly, his blush still very much present as he thought about ways to woo Taffy’s stepsister. She finished up his right hand and took his left again, his brow sill deeply furrowed in thought as she picked up the bottle of black nail polish that she had gotten for the Miss Tristate Teen Halloween pageant and began applying it to his now-dry nails. 

“I can practically hear the wheels turning in your head, you know. If you need any help we can go raid her VHS collection, I know she’s got some rom coms in there that you could get some inspiration from.”

He groaned in agreement, eyebrows still scrunched together. Taffy rolled her eyes fondly at the lovesick, oblivious idiot in front of her. 

“But you know, you probably don’t need much help. She may not realize it yet, but I can tell she’s got feelings for you, too. I don’t have to be an I.P. for that, I just know. I haven’t seen her talk or smile this much since I met her, and it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that she’s turning heads in the hallway. That’s all you, and I’m sure she’ll realize it eventually. Just so long as you keep doing what you’re doing and practically worshiping the ground she walks on, she’ll figure it out. I promise.”

She switched to his other hand as the creature absorbed her words, and when she looked up he grunted, the words lost but the message clear. 

Thank you. 

She beamed at him. 

“You’re welcome. Just don’t break her heart, or else I’m going to put you back in the ground for good this time, okay?”

She said it brightly, but her eyes were anything but joking. Creature’s own widened in turn and he shook his head vigorously and with complete conviction. Taffy nodded, satisfied. 

“Now hold still or you’re going to mess me up.”

The corpse complied, letting Taffy get back to work. She hummed along to the music video playing behind her, and she was just about to put the finishing touches on his thumb when the front door opened and shut under them, and the sound of combat booted feet trampling up the stairs caught their attention. A few seconds later, Lisa poked her head into Taffy’s bedroom door, arms laden with candy bags and eyes bright. 

“Oh, hey guys! Are you doing makeovers?”

“Yep! Come join us, though I should warn you I require payment for my services in the form of Bottlecaps.”

Lisa smiled and walked into the room, handing the previously mentioned candy to Taffy before plopping down next to her corpse, patting the top of his head before taking a look at the spread of self-care items before them. 

While Lisa was absorbed in her examinations, Taffy absolutely did not miss the absolutely adoring eyes the creature was turning her way, nor the way his longing practically radiated off of him in waves. She grinned, and the corpse looked up and caught her eye. She winked at him and gave him a quick double thumbs-up out of Lisa’s view, and his eyes widened, before he relaxed slightly and gave her a shy, conceding smile. 

The moment was interrupted by Lisa straightening, her hands wrapped around the same bottle of nail polish Taffy had just finished using on the Creature. 

“Oooh, can you do mine? I didn’t even know you had black in your collection and I’m awful at doing my own right hand.”

Taffy smiled, utterly delighted at the idea of helping her sister out with a fresh coat of paint. She stretched out her hand and Lisa took it, fingers spread as she bounced a little. The goth looked over at her undead companion as Taffy began painting, and when she noticed his nails her smile widened. 

“Hey, look at that. We’re gonna match!”

He beamed at her in turn, his devotion lined in every crease of his face, and Lisa scooted slightly closer to him, their thighs pressed together. 

Taffy turned her attention to her work, just barely keeping the smile off of her own face. 

They’ll figure it out. Eventually. 

[omgthatdress]

Oh my god I hate Mattel so much.

They took the American Girl brand and gave it a lobotomy.

I was going to make a very very very very bad joke about one of the 90s girls getting an eating disorder after watching Britney Spears, BUT DECIDED AGAINST IT because eating disorders are something you don’t joke about, BUT. HERE’S THE THING.

Here’s the thing. Being a tween-to-teen-age girl in the late 90s early 2000s was BULLSHIT. You had 16-year-old Britney Spears singing “Hit me baby one more time” in her Lolita schoolgirl miniskirt and crop top showing off her perfectly flat abs, and then you went to school and had abstinence-only sex ed mandated by the evangelical right wing who gave out purity rings and told you that only sluts had sex before marriage. And then there was the issue of being a fat girl trying to find jeans that met her school’s dress code the days of low-rise jeans and belly button rings.

I ended up adoring Linkin Park because their music gave voice to the rage that I had inside of me because of all that. I wore men’s pants from Hot Topic not only because I thought they were cool, but they actually fucking fit and they covered my ass crack. I wore black because I didn’t fit in to the ultra-skinny, ultra cool kid Abercrombie aesthetic. And THAT is what growing up in the 90s and coming of age in the 2000s was like.

“Nicki Hoffman is a nine going on ten year old girl living in Seattle, Washington just before the year 2000 (the turn of the millennium). She is six minutes older than her fraternal twin sister, Isabel, but one inch shorter. Nicki prefers grunge, ska music, rock, alternative, and skating; she is the "grunge" to Isabel's glitter. She does not like eating raw fish and sushi; her father teases that they can's spell "finicky" without Nicki. She likes sour candy--the more sour, the better. She's known to be shy, to the point Isabel points this out; she initially doesn't have other friends than Isabel. She's very anxious about the Y2K problem and the risks and worries that have been circulating, so Isabel and her create a list to take her mind off her worries of things to do before New Year's.Her favorite color is purple, her favorite animal is a dog (she adopts her puppy, Blossom, as a Hanukkah gift), her favorite band is No Doubt, and her favorite show is The Powerpuff Girls (her favorite character being Blossom). She likes to snack on Wild Berry Pop tarts. She does not like her middle name, Pearl.The family is interfaith and celebrates both Hanukkah and Christmas. “

It’s a sterilized and dumbed-down version of growing up in the 90s, one where they only real problem facing girls is the y2k bug. It’s about the aesthetic but not the experience. Honestly the girls of today deserve to see that their moms had it difficult, too, and that the pressure to grow up incredibly quickly and be beautiful and flawless and instantly become a woman is nothing new, now it’s just on TikTok instead of MTV.

It’s the trap of nostalgia. Just because you were younger and not as aware of the issues going on in the world doesn’t mean the world was better.

[endlich-allein]

I KNOW that you are a specifically Till acc, but do you have any facts on his bandmates? (If not That’s okay love your blog)

Hi ! Thanks for the ask, I tried to gather all the facts I could think of but I probably forgot quite a few (feel free to add to this list if you feel like it !) :

— Richard did a lot of odd jobs when he was young (shoe salesman, cook, etc.) but the job that made the biggest impression on him was as a cleaner for an old lady who had stuffed her poodles. She made him run a feather duster over her poodles ;

— Richard bought his first album in Hungary for 200 marks. It was the album Plastic Surgery Disaster by Dead Kennedys ;

— Rammstein and Depeche Mode got into a tomato fight in the backstage at the 2001 MTV Europe Music Awards.

— Richard bought his first guitar at the age of 16 in Czechoslovakia, not because he knew how to play, but to sell it back in Germany. On the road, he (and some friends) stopped at a campsite and a girl insisted he play, so he strummed the strings. And it was because girls liked guitarists that he became one himself ;

— Paul said that every time Till went to Leipzig, he went to his grandmother's and ate pasta ;

— Paul thinks he might have been a psychic or psychiatrist, Schneider thinks he might have been a computer scientist and Ollie a masson ;

— Paul thinks that if the band were stranded on a desert island, they'd eat Till first, but they'd have to wait until he fell asleep because he probably wouldn't let them. And the worst thing is that Till agrees with it because, when asked the same question, he replied that the group would eat him first because he has more meat than the others...;

— Flake and Paul, along with Feeling B and others, turned Till's house upside down, smashed tables, turned up the music and cooked fried eggs with honey because they couldn't get their hands on the butter ;

— Paul says that if he had to invent an object, it would be a plate that keeps the heat in, because according to him, the dishes are always too hot, so he waits and then they quickly become too cold ;

— Richard and Flake, during the recording of Reise Reise, got into a verbal joust : Richard said that Flake's wife "sang like a cuckoo", and Flake informed Richard that nobody cared about his children's talents ;

— Richard grabbed Till's collar and slammed him against a wall because Till made a joke about Richard's unconditional love of Donald Duck movies. Till repeated this in an interview (with Richard and Ollie) in 2006, to which Richard replied: "Idiot ! I’m a fan of Italian realism from the early 60′s. Alberto Sordi, Fellini... I’m not a snob but unlike these gloomy guys I know cinema well." ;

— Flake told Paul he couldn't be racist because he didn't like anybody ;

— Schneider and Till have gardening competitions, but Till is jealous because Schneider always has the most beautiful orchids ;

— Till sent a huge box of candy with the note "Enjoy the fucking candy" to Chris Martin (Coldplay) to thank him for helping him with a sore neck. Since then, they've been friends, and Chris dedicated a Coldplay song to Till and his children during a concert ;

— Schneider's mother was angry with him because of the Mutter song, but he didn't understand why, he just told her that he didn't write the lyrics ;

— Ollie accidentally hit Till on the head with his bass, Till had to leave the stage and be bandaged, he ended the concert with a huge bandage ;

— Ollie once stole something. It only happened once. It was a little wooden boat, and when he got home he felt so guilty that he confessed the whole thing to his mother ;

[tired-biscuit]

sitting on hokage naruto in his office and shikamaru suddenly enters thinking nothing of it and not realizing that the jinchuruki's dick is literally up your ass. BRO HE STARTS TALKING ABOUT WORK AND Y’ALL ARE JUST SWEATING AND RED LMAOOOOO

THE WAY THIS MADE ME FUCKING LAUGH, THE JINCHURIKI'S DICK UP UR ASS AHSJSJSHSH PLSSSSS ANON, I CAN'T THAT WAS SO FUNNY

but fr, you'd be fighting for your life; trying to appear normal while sitting on his lap. and naruto's pretending so badly, he's like scowling so intensely at the papers that shikamaru flicks onto his desk that it makes his eyes disappear under his fuckin' eyebrows PLEASE

and when you turn to look at him, there's a literal bead of sweat rolling down the side of his temple, and yet this mf is still playing as if he hasn't got his whole cock jammed up inside you; trying to speak to shikamaru even tho he's breathless and almost grunting in-between words.........

meanwhile, you can't even talk. you know that if you'd open your mouth even by a fraction, the top 10 greatest hits consisting of your slutty moans would come shooting out of you, like you're the mtv channel from the early 2000s when they still actually played music ahhahahah---- he's big and twitching inside you after all, when you move, you can feel him in your belly; the stretch is insane cos of his girth cjwkcisndujd

AND OMFG IMAGINE IF YOU CLENCH AROUND HIM COS OF THE NERVES WHEN SHIKAMARU GETS TOO CLOSE, AND HE JUST SQUEEZES YOUR THIGHS WITH HIS HANDS TO KEEP YOU DOWN AND CUMS COS HE KIND OF FINDS ALL THE RISK HOT FJSJJDJSWJ..... IT'D BE SUCH A STICKY MESS!! like you've got the hokage's fucking assistant standing right opposite you, looking at you sort of weird, while the hokage himself - the strongest shinobi out there - is stuffing you full of his cummies, making it all drip down your thighs bye

also, what if he tried to keep a straight face during it..... he's just like, "yeah, mhmm.... we'll, uh... mm, we'll settle this later, shikamaru, okay?" as if he isn't spilling everything he's got up your poor little hole, he just can't stop cos he's got so much stamina and it's making his eyes want to roll back into that thick skull of his fuejdwhdhwysy I CAN'T OK, I WANT ME SOME JINCHURIKI DICK NOW LMAO